#v. better to die saving lives than live taking them

[yearnstarved]

"are you kidding? i made all that up."

( INBOX PROMPT | @darehearts )

★ "GEE. YOU DON'T SAY." Bones huffed before breaking into a brisk walk. A light jog was more accurate. —Running, he was running. "We were captured, interrogated, and released on a bluff you ran. I play poker with you, Jim. I know your tell. We should get out of here before the cave dwellers catch on."

[yearnstarved]

✧ "THAT'S A HIGHLY SUBJECTIVE DEFINITION." McCoy didn't deny that he did hold contempt towards Khan. There was a lot of grace he withheld based on the fact that he wasn't ready to forgive. The nightmares of seeing Jim's stiff body hadn't stopped so this was the most cordial he could be.

"May I remind you that we're all doing our best. You are safe from harm but everything else is a repercussion."

patience is, admittedly, not one of his finer qualities. perhaps under different circumstances, his capacity would be greater ( in fact, in the past, it has been ), but these days, his reserve has run rather dry. the doctor’s response earns him a cutting glare from the augment.

“ observation & scrutiny are HARDLY synonymous. i’m in no mood to be scrutinized today. ”

[dilf-docs]

A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane. LIKE i got infected with a raw carnal primal need to write for one of zaun dilfs,, it literally took my brain hostage ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @arcanegifs

[drarry-soulmates]

Thoughts on drarry

I didn’t like Draco before reading the books. In the movies, they just portrayed him as a bully so I didn’t care for him. In the books he def hits different. :‘V

I mean, he’s still a “bully” in the sense that he messes with Harry, but he’s not actually bullying Harry. He picks on Harry, in the same way you’d mess with your crush, and Harry can more than hold his own. Harry even scares him:

“Missing your half-breed pal?” he kept whispering to Harry whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from Harry’s retaliation.

So… he was scared but so gay, he couldn’t resist becos this is literally the only way he could keep Harry in his life. x’D Imagine being afraid of your crush’s wrath but you just.. can’t help it lol >///<

And literally picking on Harry is the only way he can continue to talk to Harry because after the rejected handshake (and being in different Houses), Draco is too prideful to grovel for friendship. Harry basically condemned their relationship to schoolyard 'enemies’ who will risk their lives again and again for each other. Who’s mutual obsession becomes so obvious that everyone just knows that they look out for each other, despite outwardly acting like they hate each other. When other characters can see it, you know it’s real.

Despite being schoolyard 'enemies’, Harry absolutely falls for Draco so hard. Harry can’t ever stop staring at Draco no matter what Draco is doing (whether he’s acting suspiciously or just eating his lunch), and Draco likewise cannot stop watching him. Draco can’t stop talking about Harry either, in the same way when you have a crush, you can’t stop talking about that person. When i have a crush, i am talking about them literally nonstop. Every little thing your crush does is absolutely fascinating. That is Draco with Harry. Draco’s dad had to tell him to shut up about Harry LMAO. Draco not realizing how obvious he is being:

“… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick — ”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son.

Like, bruh, just pls STFU XD it’s no wonder Voldemort became suspicious of his feelings for Harry:

"He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?”

lmaoo.

And of course how Narcissa just assumed that Harry, a kid who she must’ve known wasn’t exactly friends with her son (them being on opposite sides of the war) would know or care to take notes about the whereabouts of her son in the middle of a goddamn war:

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

And of course she was right. Harry did know. In fact, both of them had just finished saving each others’ lives.

Yep.

Harry saved the life of a Death Eater. In the middle of the war. Against Voldemort.

At a time when the less Death Eaters there were, the better. Even Ron had thought Harry was being ludicrous for going back in the fiendfyre that Draco’s friend started in an attempt to kill them:

“It’s — too — dangerous — !” Ron yelled, but Harry wheeled in the air. “IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, HARRY!” roared Ron’s voice.

Harry risked his FRIENDS’ LIVES.

For Draco.

Draco, who had at this point, openly admitted to being a Death Eater. Draco, his supposed sworn enemy in school and outside of it.

Harry could care less about Goyle or Blaise, he was all about saving Draco. Harry didn’t even notice that Crabbe was long gone at this point LOL.

And right before the fire, Draco did the same for him. After Draco confronted Harry instead of surprise attacking him (knowing full well that Harry is too formidable in an open confrontation), Draco refused to let his friends hurt him as Crabbe was about to unleash a non-killing hex:

STOP!” Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. “The Dark Lord wants him alive —” “So? I’m not killing him, am I?”

And then: “Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” Malfoy yelled…

Draco NEVER yells. Ever. He is always so calm and collected (when he’s not obsessing over Harry). So this is honestly incredible to me that he is yelling….. He is straight-up panicking because his friends might hurt Harry.

And then of course in Malfoy Manor, even at great risk to himself and his family, he doesn’t reveal Harry’s identity. When asked if Harry was in fact Harry Potter:

“I don’t know,” he said…

Although he has no problem giving away Hermione or Ron’s identity.

Look, Draco, isn’t it the Granger girl?” “I … maybe … yeah.” “But then, that’s the Weasley boy!” shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. “It’s them, Potter’s friends — Draco, look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name — ?” “Yeah,” said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. “It could be.”

Draco had never been just another Death Eater to Harry. Draco was someone Harry had grown to fall slowly in love with over the years, despite their animosity. And Draco, for his sake, had fallen so hard for Harry, THE sworn enemy of Voldemort.

In the books, he and Harry are obviously hopelessly in love with each other. Countless passages showcase their obsession, including Harry’s constant thinking about Draco’s looks, like his eyes or his hair, or his smirks (Draco’s version of winking). Harry doesn’t think about anyone’s eyes as often as he does Draco’s (Ginny’s eyes we only know are brown.. What shade? idk, DRACO’S EYES HOWEVER). He knows Draco so well, which is shocking because they’re not even friends or in the same House. He knows Draco better than he knows all of his actual friends, except for Ron & Hermione.

He can read Draco so well, even though Draco is a pro at Occlumency because he had learned from a young age to shut down his emotions and present a cold, strong exterior. This again, goes back to his pridefulness due to his rough upbringing under Lucius. But Harry can see through that. And Harry is likely one of the very few that can. (On a side note, Tom Felton said that if Draco had been raised by Hagrid, he would’ve turned out much differently, even been perhaps a hugger. lol.)

Draco’s obsession, then, is even more incredible when you consider that he is actually really good at hiding how he feels. But with Harry, he just cannot for the life of him, hide it. You can’t help who you love, after all. Despite Draco’s obsession being more obvious because he’s just so damn aggressive with it, Harry’s tiny, shy expressions are utterly endearing…. like that time Draco was in the middle of an OWL exam and Harry merely *walked into the room*:

Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look over at him; the wine glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and smashed. Harry could not suppress a grin.

How adorable is that?!?!?! (from BOTH of them!!!! you’re really telling me that Draco went from getting an O to an E grade in his Levitation portion of the exam just becos of Harry lol. and Harry’s tiny little shy smiles aweee) *squeals* and what’s more:

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry’s way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

Harry just stayed quiet. How gay is this scene? Like, a guy who’s blocking your path is a total romance movie trope LOL. I’m just imagining Harry standing there blushing. >///< Ron is often a cockblock, ngl (more on that in my analysis of DH). Harry’s personality in the books is pretty outgoing, and he most definitely has a temper too, towards others. But when it comes to Draco, it’s Ron that gets overly aggressive, even when Draco isn’t messing with Ron. In fact, often when anyone talks badly about Draco, Harry doesn’t. He does talk non-stop shit about Umbridge, Snape, or Rita Skeeter, but not Draco lol……. He hates Snape too, and often compares Snape and Draco, as he thinks about how he hates Snape far more than Draco lol.

Snape had emerged from the staircase leading down to his office, and at the sight of him Harry felt a great rush of hatred beyond anything he felt toward Malfoy…

Even though Draco messes with him far more than Snape does. He loves the attention he gets from Draco, so much so that once Draco has his own shit to deal with in HBP and stops messing with him as much, Harry takes to literally *STALKING* him with a magical map all around the school………….

Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious.

Lmao. Remember, at this point, he still had no concrete evidence Draco was doing anything sus. None of his closest friends who had both been witnesses to Draco’s supposedly sus activities agreed it was anything worth worrying over. But nope, Harry can’t drop it. It’s to the point where even Arthur Weasley knows about his crush……

“I think you missed something,” said Harry stubbornly.

‘Well, maybe,’ said Mr Weasley, but Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was humouring him.

lmaooooo. Arthur’s reaction to his baseless accusations towards Draco was hilarious. x’D It’s truly fascinating how the adults around them just know. Both Draco’s parents and Voldemort, just as Arthur knows for Harry.

The story of Harry and Draco is an accidental horribly tragic love story for both repressed gay boys who are too afraid to actually admit how they feel. :( Their untold love is truly the epic forbidden love story of the entire goddamn series. It had the best most perfect build-up and chemistry, and JKR just like, totally overlooked that due to her irrational dislike of Draco Malfoy for some reason. 😮‍💨

Welp, that’s it for now. I’m in the middle of getting through HBP with my notes. I’ll make a new post once I finish taking the rest of my drarry notes with the series. I still had a ton more to say about DH but i’ll leave it for once I’m actually finished with the DH notes.

[k4marina]

— v. The Spoils of War || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: with highgarden now secure daenerys shifts her attention back to the caves of dragonstone and you finally venture down since your arrival.

warnings: war, executions, death, game of thrones typical themes

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

important note at the end, please read.

series masterlist || next part

5.4k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

I could hear the screaming from up above. The air smelt like burning flesh and amber as Daenerys had gone around lighting anything and anyone ablaze. My eyes roamed the ground immediately spotting Drogon and Daenerys on the ground. A scorpion's spear was lodged into Drogon’s shoulder and not too far off the side was Jamie wielding a spear, readying himself to attack Daenerys. Thankfully, Drogon noticed and threw fire his way only for Jamie to be saved by someone and thrown into the river.

“Protect them.” 

Viserion screeches and fire erupts from his mouth as he lights a ring of fire around Daenerys and Drogon so she could safely remove the spear. I turned Viserion back and aimed him towards the remaining enemy. 

“Dracarys.” 

Viserion ignites the ground beneath us in flames, destroying any remaining scorpions and Lannister men that were foolish enough to still fight. Through all the screaming and burning I could hear the galloping of horses and war cries. I look back to see a swarm of Dothraki coming from the West. They circle the remaining enemy soldiers, intimidating them. 

“Over there,” I say to Viserion. “We’re safe to land over there.” 

Carefully, Viserion descents to the open clearing I’d pointed out. Once on the ground again, I jumped off of Viserion and walked over to Daenerys. The fire around her and Drogon had fizzled down and she’d managed to get the spear out of his shoulder. I eyed the wound and then her worried expression. 

“He’ll recover.” I glanced back to the Dothraki taking the prisoners. “They got here faster than expected.” 

“I had Qhono send his fastest riders.” Daenerys replies. Her eye’s trailed towards the river. “He got away.” She says, referring to Jamie. 

“Good.” I turn to look at the river too. “We’ll need him in the future.” 

–––

Tyrion walks over the ash covered ground. There are burned bodies and empty cargo strewn about. The Dothraki loot the bodies of any remaining Lannister gold and weapons. He steps up onto the stone boulders where Daenerys stood. Tyrion and I stood on either side of her while Drogon and Viserion were behind her, eyeing the captured soldiers, ready to pounce with one word.

“I know what Cersei has told you,” Daenerys starts off calmly. “That I’ve come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That’s Cersei Lannister, not me. I’m not here to murder. ANd all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and Poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it, or refuse and die.”

Tension hangs in the air as her words settle into the prisoner's mind. A few Lannisteer men kneel to the ground, while most remain standing. Dragon roars, moving closer to the men and almost all the Lannister men quickly kneel, while a few still remain standing including Randyll and Dickon Tarley, Samwell Tarley’s father and brother.

“Step forward, My Lord.” Daenerys commands. Randyll steps up in front of the kneeling Lannisters, his son not too far off. 

“You will not kneel?”

“I already have a queen.” He replies, gruffly. 

“My sister, she wasn't your queen until recently though, was she, until she murdered your rightful queen and destroyed House Tyrell for all time. So it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible.” Tyrion says. 

Randyll turns to Tyrion, “there are no easy choices in war. Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros, has lived here all her life. You on the other hand, you murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back.”

“If I remember correctly, the Targaryen’s have lived in Westeros for hundreds of years and before Aegon's Conquest they resided on Dragonstone in Blackwater Bay for nearly 500 years.” I turn to him with a pointed look. “Her Grace was born on Dragonstone and forced to flee her home and live in exile in a foreign land thanks to the Usurper. All she’s doing now is coming home and reclaiming what was her families from those who stole it from them.” 

Tyrion turns to Daenerys. “Perhaps he can take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He would be invaluable at the wall.” 

“You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my queen.” Randyll grits. 

Daenerys doesn’t reply, merely turning to the Dothraki. Two men step forward, grabbing Lord Tarley and pulling him to the side. I watched as Dickon stepped forward. 

“You will have to kill me too.” 

Randyll pulls away from the Dothraki, turning to face his son. “Step back and shut your mouth.” 

“Who are you?” Daenerys asks Dickon. 

“A stupid boy.” Randyll replies for his son. 

“I’m Dickon Tarley, son of Randyll Tarley.” Dickon answers proudly. 

“You are the future of your house,” Tyrion tries to reason. “This war has already wiped one great house from the world. Don’t let it happen again. Bend the knee.” 

Randyll nods to his son, wordlessly telling him to save his life. “I will not.” He double downs.

“You’re loyal to your father and family, it’s commendable.” I step forward. “It’s a shame your father doesn’t share the same trait.” 

“My father is the most loyal man I know.” Dickon quickly defends. 

“Is he?” I say, accusingly. “He fought valiantly for the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and now that the last Targaryen is here, he turns his back on her forgetting that 20 years ago he stood by her brother.” I shake my head. “But that shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, if he could turn his back on his eldest son, he can turn on anyone.” 

Dickon looks taken aback. “Eldest son? What do you know about my brother?”

“Nothing.” Randyll sharply replies. “That woman knows nothing.” 

“Do I?” I pressed further. “He couldn’t stand your brother.” I stepped down the boulder. “He hated the fact that he chose to read books instead of picking up a sword. So much so that he told his own child that if he didn’t take the black willingly, he’d kill him and make it look like a hunting accident. Instead of letting your brother be and naming you heir, he threw him to the Wall.”  I stepped closer to Dickon. “Tell me, is this the man you want to die for? The one who’d murder his own child for reading books? Is this where your loyalty lies?” 

The apple of Dickon’s throat bobs as he nervously swallows, shaking his head. “No, my father would never.” 

“No? Ask him then.” 

Slowly, he turned to his father who looked like he was ready to burst with anger. “Father. Tell me that she’s lying… please.” 

Randyll clenches his jaw, casting his eyes downwards, answering Dickon’s question. He looked like he was ashamed. Not over the fact that he’d behaved in such a deplorable manner to his son, but the fact that he’d been exposed to his other son. Dickon’s face fell. He brought his hand up to wipe his face and collect his thoughts. He side steps me, standing clearly before Daenerys. 

“House Tarley has served House Targaryen for centuries.” He began, his voice steady. “My father fought for your house against Robert's army and now, I will fight for your house, Your Grace. House Tarley is with you.” Dickon kneels, bowing his head. 

Daenerys looks at me, impressed before turning to the new Lord Tarley. “Rise.” She commands. “Your loyalty is greatly appreciated. I look forward to fighting beside you as I reclaim my family's throne.” 

Dickon stands, bowing his head once again. I lightly pat his arm, “you made a wise decision.” I turn back, stepping back to my place besides Daenerys. 

“I’m giving those who are still standing another chance. Bend the knee or suffer the consequences.” Daenerys looks at the rest of the men standing in the eye as she speaks. Half bend the knee, while the rest too dumb for their own good stood their ground. Daenerys looks towards the Dothraki who pull those who are still standing to the side so they could meet their punishment. 

“Dickon..” Randyll calls out his son who doesn’t spare him a glance or reply as he’s dragged away. 

Drogon moved towards the prisoners, eyeing them like a prize. Daenerys turns towards them, “I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my name, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die.”

She pauses, making eye contact with Drogon. “Dracarys.” 

Drogon draws in a deep breath and dragonfire spews out of his mouth at the men. They’re instantly engulfed in flames, their bodies completely incinerated. The remaining Lannister men recoil in shock and horror. Drogon huffs, pleased with his work and turns back to his brother. 

Daenerys turns back towards Dickon who had tears in his eyes after watching his fathers execution. “I will call for you to raise your banners, Lord Tarley. Until then, rest and prepare for the battle to come.” Daenerys says, sort of reminding Dickon of his new position as Lord, but also as one of her allies before she turns back and walks away with Tyrion not too far behind. 

I stood atop the boulder, watching as the men who bent the knee walked away, thankful that they had lived before turning my gaze towards Dickon. 

“You made a wise decision.” I say, softly. “It was a hard one, but right. You will be a far better Lord than your father was.” 

“That’s not true. I can never be as great as him.” He said, dejected. 

“Would you ever threaten your own child for wanting to be in the company of books rather than swords?” I ask. 

Dickon shakes his head. 

“Then you’re already better than him.” 

—–

“Are we ready to leave?” I ask Daenerys and Tyrion. 

“Yes,” says Daenerys. “Highgarden is secure. The Dothraki will remain at guard here until a group of Unsullied take over the castle.” 

“And I’m assuming you’re going back home to check on the place?” I ask Tyrion. 

He nods. “I won’t take too long at Casterly Rock.” 

I looked around at the battle-ridden field. The once dead soldiers now buried under ground, stripped of their armor and weapons. I spot a Dothraki carrying one of the Lannisters' swords and get an idea. 

I turned back to Tyrion and Daenerys. “Have all the enemy swords gathered and taken back to Dragonstone with us.” 

Daenerys frowns. “Our men have plenty of swords, what use are the Lannisters weapons to us?” 

“Just humor me.” 

Daenerys and Tyrion share a look, but nonetheless, she gives the order to round up the swords. A few Dothraki call out towards us, signaling something to Daenerys. 

“They say that they’re ready to leave.” Daenerys explains. 

Understanding, Tyrion bows. “Then I will be taking my leave, Your Grace.” 

Daenerys dismisses him with a nod and the two of us watch as he makes his way over to the Dothraki that would be escorting him to Casterly Rock. Once they were out of sight Daenerys and I began our walk to where our dragons were. 

“How did you know that about Randall Tarley?” She asks. 

“I read about him,” I replied. “His eldest, Sam, became a Maester and in his old age he wrote about his life. Growing up, his life on the Wall, being the first man ever to kill a White Walker, basically a biography. In the book he alluded that his father would have done anything to get him out of his family, even making things look like an accident.” 

“So you did all of that on a hunch?”

I shrug. “It’s not a hunch if it’s true, is it?” 

“I guess not.” 

We fall into a comfortable silence, but it’s clear Daenerys is in deep thought. “What do you mean we need him?” 

“Who?” I ask. “Jamie?” 

She nods. 

“I mean what I said.” I said. “We don’t need him now, but later. He’ll be a great ally and an important tool to help knock down Cersei.”

“Jamie will help bring down Cersei? The woman he loves?” Daenerys doesn’t sound convinced. 

“He loves her now, but not for long. His bond with Cersei is already strained after the death of his children, it won’t be long for him to realize that the woman he once loved has changed for the worse.” 

“So once he’s come to his senses he’ll bend the knee to me?”

“What? No?” I shook my head. “He’s not going to waltz onto Dragonstone and bend the knee. You need to remember, he was there when your father had gone mad, he lived through Aneys’ madness. I know you’re nothing like your father, but he doesn't and he’ll be hesitant to shake your hand.”

“You just said he is going to be an ally. How is he an ally if he doesn't bend the knee to me?” 

“Because anyone who is against Cersei is an ally.” 

She stops walking, staring off at Viserion and Drogon. Her eyes lingered at the wound on Drogon’s shoulder where he’d been pierced with a spear. A spark of anger runs through her at the thought that her son was injured. 

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’ll pay for what she did tenfold, we’ll make sure of it. You just need to keep a cool head and trust me.” 

She lets out a long breath through her nose, “okay.” 

“Though, I think you and I should hitch a ride on Viserion and let Drogon fly alone.” Daenerys agrees with my suggestion and mounts Viserion after I do. Both dragons take to the sky, Drogon a little shaky, and they fly back to Dragonstone. 

–––

When we landed we were greeted by Missandei, Jon, and Ser Davos. Missandei was the first to step forward, eyeing Drogon and then the blood on my armor. 

“Are you hurt?” 

I shake my head, helping Daenerys off. “It’s not mine. Give Drogon something to eat, he’ll heal on his own, so just let him be.” 

She nods, relaying the same information to a Dothraki guard who goes to do as I’ve said. Daenerys walks over to where Jon and Ser Davos are standing back, still wary of the two dragons.

As they talked, Missandei turned to me, “have you heard from Grey Worm?” 

I smiled, knowingly. “No, but Tyrion is heading to Casterly Rock and I’m sure he’ll send us a raven soon. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of alone time once he’s back.” I winked, teasingly. 

She suppressed a smile, blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Daenerys turns back, beckoning us forward. We walk over to her, Jon and Davos glance over at the blood on my armor, but don’t comment. 

“Jon Snow and his men have been exploring the caves below.” Daenerys explains. “As they’ve said, it’s filled with Dragonglass.” 

Jon nods. “From what we’ve explored so far, we can tell that the entire cave system is filled with Dragonglass.”

“We’ll explore tomorrow in the morning,” Daenerys says, watching as the sun begins to set. “Everyone get some rest.” 

Missandei and I bow, watching as she walks towards the castle. Today had been a long day and the last thing I wanted to do was explore some caves. Missandei and I began walking back to the castle with the men behind us. Jon and Davos walked silently together. 

“How was Highgarden?,” Missandei asks.

“Beautiful,” I recall. “Minus the Lannister force trying to ransack it.”

“I’m sure Lady Olenna had something to say about that.” Missandei laughs, but I don't, catching her attention. 

“What happened? Did she make it out safely?” Missandei asks. 

I pause, thinking back to her in that room. “No,” everyone stops walking, shocked. I turn back to their expecting faces. “I got there in time, but she didn’t take the antidote. I tried to convince her, but all she said was that Cersei had taken everyone from her, that her time was over and she was at peace with it.” 

“So you just?..” 

“I honored her wishes. I held her hand until the poison took effect. I’ve already given the orders to have her buried with the rest of her family. At least Cersei can’t split them apart in the afterlife.” 

No one spoke, all of them just taking in my words. The air got colder, and the stars began to peak out of the sky. 

I shook my head, “It’s been a long day. I’ll see you all in the morning.” I turned, not waiting for a reply and trekked back into the castle. The halls were dark and barren, but it was still nice. The walk to my room was refreshing, there was a small ache in my legs from riding Viserion all day. How Daenerys was able to fly a top of Drogon with no saddle was beyond me. Maybe I could look into making a saddle. Once in my room, I slipped my armor and clothes off and stepped into the already drawn bath waiting for me. 

Tomorrow was going to be another big day. Everything was starting to pick up fast. So much was going to start happening in such little time. I could only hope that it’ll end up in our favor instead of Cersei’s or worse, the White Walkers. Once I had bathed I slipped into my nightgown and settled into bed with a heavy heart. 

––

The air smelt like salt, fish and seaweed. A gust of air rushed past me as I walked down the stone steps towards the beach, blowing my hair silver back. I spotted Missandei and Daenerys already there, talking amongst themselves. 

I bowed my head towards Dany, “it’s fucking freezing out here.” 

“The days are getting colder,” Daenerys says. 

“Where’s Jon?” I ask, looking around the beach. Both northern men and our Dothraki were scattered around the shore, carrying boxes and supplies. 

“There,” Daenerys juts out her chin, pointing at Jon making his way over to us. 

“Your Grace, My Lady,” Jon says. “This way.” 

He leads the three of us to the entrance of the cave where he’s handed a torch by Ser Davos. The opening is dimly lit, almost inviting until you look deep into the center of the cave where nothing but the dark pit awaits. I clench my jaw, nervous. I hadn’t been in here since that night.

“Are you okay?” Daenerys asks in hushed Valyrian, just loud enough for me to hear. 

I stare into the cave and nod, my hand instinctively coming up to where my necklace sits on my neck. 

“It’s just a cave, that’s all.” I can't tell if I’m telling her or myself. 

Missandei and Ser Davos wait by the entrance of the cave as the three of us step forward. Jon leads with Daenerys beside him while I follow behind her. The cave looked the same as it did when I woke up. I could feel an unsettling feeling settle on my chest as we went further into the cave and closer to it.

“I wanted you to see it before we start hacking it to bits.” Jon says. He lights a brazier, illuminating the cave and the Dragonglass against the fire. 

Daenerys looks around the cave in awe. “Is this what you saw when you first entered?” She asks, looking at me over her shoulder. 

I shake my head. “No. They’d hacked away at most of the glass in this cave over the years for weapons or jewelry. When I came here it just looked like a cave.”

Jon lights another brazier, listening to our conversation, despite not knowing what we were saying. “So this is it, all we’ll ever need. There is something else I want to show you.” 

He steps further into the cave and Daenerys turns back, asking with her eyes, are you okay? I nodded and beckoned her forwards. She turned, following Jon. I held my breath the closer we got to the carvings. A few nights after my arrival I’d sat down and explained to Daenerys how I’d gotten here, or was brought here, more or less, but decided to leave out the part about the paintings. 

The jagged cave walls were now covered in multiple carvings. The carvings reached all the way up to the ceiling of the cave. They varied from swirl patterns to drawings and smooth shapes. Looking at all of it so up close, I couldn’t help but marvel at it all. After so many centuries, the carvings remained the same, undisturbed. When I’d first arrived those carvings had either faded or were hacked away by people who wanted “a piece of history” but seeing them now in its actuality left a shiver down my spine.

“The Children of the Forest made these.” Jon uses the flame of the torch to show the molars painted onto the walls. 

“When?” Daenerys asks. 

“A very long time ago.” He replies. 

“They were right there standing where we’re standing before there were Targaryens or Starks or Lannisters. Maybe even before there were men.” Daenerys says. 

“No,” Daenerys turns from the wall to Jon. Jon walks to another wall, bringing the flame close to show a decision of the Children of the Forest and the First Men standing together. “They were here together, the Children and the First Men.” 

“Doing what?” Daenerys asks, stepping closer to examine the murals. “Fighting each other?” 

Jon takes her by the arm, leading her to the other side of the cave, using the torch to light the way. The mural showed the Night King and the White Walkers. 

“They fought together against their common enemy.” She says, putting it all together. “Despite their differences, despite their suspicions, together.” Daenerys stares down the painting, silent. “We need to do the same if we’re going to survive.” 

“Because the enemy is real. It’s always been real.” Jon finishes her thought. 

Daenerys turns to Jon. “And you say you can’t defeat them without my armies and my dragons?” 

“No, I don’t think I can.” 

Daenerys steps forward, closer to Jon. “I will fight for you. I will fight for the north…” Jons face softens just slightly, “when you bend the knee.” Only for it to harden again. 

“My people won’t accept a southern ruler, not after everything they’ve suffered.” Jon doubles down. 

Daenerys steps even closer, “they will if their king does,” she argued. “They chose you to lead them. They chose you to protect them.” 

There was a pregnant pause, the Dragon Queen and the King in the North staring at each other, either one not willing to back down. 

“The Boltens were northern,” I finally spoke up, eyeing the two. They both look up at me. “Second most powerful House in the North after the Starks. Tell me, were they better than Southern rulers?” 

Jon opened his mouth to interject but I cut him off. “Is your pride more important than your people's survival?” 

Jon closes his mouth, standing down while Daenerys seems pleased that I was there to deliver the final blow. There’s another moment of silence as Jon mulls over our words.

“The torch.” I say, conusfung Jon and Daenerys. “Hand me the torch.” 

Confused, he hands me the torch. Daenerys frowns, “are there more paintings?” 

Jon shakes his head. “No, Your Grace.” 

“There are.” I step between them, walking deeper into the cave. “Let me show you what I saw that night.” 

Silently, they followed me, Jon looking between Daenerys and I. I lit the way for the three of us, my eyes bouncing off of the walls for the markings. I stopped suddenly, staring at the wall on my right. There. 

I moved to the torch forwards, revealing the full mural. Daenerys brushed past a bewildered Jon and stood by me. Surprisingly, my necklace didn’t react like it did before, allowing me to fully see the mural. 

There, same emblem as my necklace; two dragons entwined around a sword with a ruby at the hilt in the middle of a dragon eating itself, like the drawing of a snake eating itself. There also seemed to be a message written below, although crudely. The symbols mirrored the glyphs used in Valyrian, enough for someone to decipher it, but almost illegible. I moved the torch closer to the nearly faded symbols. When I had gone to see the paintings, before I was brought here, everything was smudged but still legible while the words were completely faded away.

“What does it say?” Daenerys asks. 

I carefully read aloud. “ābrar iā morghon.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Life or Death.” 

–––

The walk back to the entrance of the cave was quiet, each one of us deep in our heads. When we reached the entrance Davos and Missandei were joined by Varys who held two raven scrolls. He glances over the three of us before bowing, handing off the ravens to Daenerys. She opened one, reading the contents and pocketing it. She eyed the other, this one tied in red ribbon, on the side a word was written. Knowingly, Daenerys handed it off to a confused Missandei. 

Daenerys and I smiled at each other, like giggling school girls before she turned her attention back to the people around us. 

“The Westerlands and the Reach are now fully secured.” Daenerys announced. 

“That means Cersei has the Crownlands and, what? The Stormlands?” I hum. “If they haven’t turned on her yet.” 

“She’s surrounded.” Daenerys says, elated. 

“Don’t be quick to sound so excited. We still have a long ways to go.” I say. “She still has whatever remains of Euron’s fleet, the remaining Lannister army and the city's watch, and, if she can, which I doubt, the Golden Company.” 

“How is she to gain the Golden Company's support if we’ve stopped her plan?” Missandei asks. 

She wasn’t wrong. Cersei’s grand plan to gain the Myrish sellsword company’s favor was to sack Highgarden and by herself an army and supposedly elephants, but now that Daenerys and I have foiled that plan, while also dealing a heavy blow to her army, she has almost no options. But we still have to be vigilant. Everything was going well for Daenerys originally, until she was dealt blow after blow to the point of madness. 

“There’s other ways,” I answer. “The Red Keep is the Targaryens' second home. Every King from Aegon the first to Aenys has walked those halls. It’s littered with Targaryen artifacts, not to mention that there are nineteen known dragon skulls under the Red Keep, and many more that we don’t know.” I shake my head, “she still has a way to gain their favor.” 

Daenerys grimaced at the thought of Cersei being in possession of her family's items whether it be a simple pot or the dragon skulls of all the dragons that had remained after the Doom. 

“Then what do we do?” She asks me. 

“We wait.” I say. “We out number her, no doubt. But we can’t rush or else we’ll make a mistake and create an opening for her to strike on. We must stay vigilant.” 

Everyone agrees, understanding the full degree of things. We had one shot, one opportunity to take the throne, and rushing was not an option.

Daenerys turned to Jon. “Tell your men to continue their mining, if you require more hands, tell me and I’ll put my men to good work.” 

“Also,” I turned to Jon. “Light as much of the cave as you can. Preferably past those markings. And tell your men not to touch them, they’re already faded as it is, we don’t need them wiped away.” 

“I understand.” Jon bows to Daenerys and I before he and Ser Davos walk away to begin their work. 

––

Everyone in the castle is asleep except for Daenerys and I, lounging in the Painted Chamber. The hearth is lit and a platter of bread, fruit, and wine is laid out for us. On the table an Unsullied figurine stood on both Highgarden and Casterly Rock. The Martel sigil stood tall on Sunspeer and a Kraken on the Iron Islands while in the North stood a Direwolf. The only Lion remaining on the map was on King’s Landing.

“All these allies, all these soldiers yet I’m still not close enough to my goal.” Daenerys mumbles, a cup of wine in hand. 

“You will,” I plucked a grape off the vine, plopping it into my mouth. “There’s still a long ways to go.” 

She takes another swig of wine, “how far ahead are we?”

I lean back on the sofa, head tilted up. “We stopped them mid way to Highgarden, which is about a day and a half ride to and from King's Landing. Capturing Casterly Rock only took half a day, thanks to the new armor and weapons that Tyrion’s raven mentioned. If I had to guess, four or five days.” 

“That’s it?” 

“It’s not much, but at times of war every day counts.” 

We settle into silence, Daenerys planning what to do next while I try to fight off sleep.

“They’ll starve.” 

“Hm?” I slowly open my eyes. 

“The people of King’s Landing, they’ll starve. We’ve cut off their food by taking both the Rock and the Reach.” 

I nod. “We have.” 

Daenerys pauses. “But you already knew that.” 

“Mm-hmm.” I sighed through my nose, sitting up. “Out of everyone in King’s Landing, Cersei has the most food. And if she’s such a benevolent ruler, then she’ll distribute it to the smallfolk.” 

“But she wont.” 

“Exactly. Civil unrest will ensue and the people's hate for Cersei will get worse.” 

Daenerys sighed, placing the glass of wine on the table. “How did Aegon do it?” 

I watched her tired expression carefully. “He had his sisters. Visenya mostly focused on the war aspect of the campaign while Rhaenys focused on allies and the smallfolk.”

“There’s only two of us.” 

No there aren’t. 

“We’ll see.” I finished the cup of wine. “Speaking of, how is your and Jon Snow’s relationship?”

Daenerys turns a light shade of red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure.” I say, not convinced. “Have you shown him the dragons?”

She shook her head. “They’d eat him alive.” 

“I won’t be so sure.”

She watches me pick off some more grapes. 

“ābrar iā morghon. Life or Death.”

I stopped what I was doing, slowly glancing up to meet Daenerys’ gaze. 

“What does it mean?” She asks aloud. “What does any of it mean?”

I take a moment, rubbing my face. “Maybe it’s asking us to pick.” 

“Between life or death?” 

I hummed. “Do you know what a dragon eating itself means?”

She shakes her head. 

“It represents the eternal cycle of rebirth and destruction.” I say, absentmindedly swirling my finger in a circle. “It’s supposed to be a snake, but instead this one is a dragon.” 

“And this dragon represents you?”

“No, you. Well, rather your house, I guess.” I dropped my hand, folding them on top of my stomach. “For centuries the Targaryens have tethered between destroying itself and thriving. It’s asking you to pick life or death. Do you want to be the reason why the Targaryens finally tip over and destroy itself or the reason it thrives for generations to come.” 

She sighs, frowning. “I came here to reclaim my family’s throne, but now that I’m here I’ve been told of the Army of the Dead and now that the fate of my house rests in my hand.” 

I stand up, moving to sit next to her. “I know, it’s a lot. But you can do it.” 

Her eyes wander over to the map of Westeros, landing on the Lion on King’s Landing and the Dragon on Dragonstone, facing one another. The stone carved lion mocked the dragon. If it could speak it would definitely be saying something along the lines of “I dare you, pussy. Do something,” but more in an old Westerosi fashion. 

“One step at a time,” I reached over for her hand. “Everything will fall into place and you’ll have Cersei at her knees and the throne in your hands.” 

a/n: another chapter for you lovely people. i was wondering, now that we're getting closer to climax of the story (night king and cersei) how would you guys feel if i also wrote some side stories that would take place after the main one? smt like life after taking back the throne and what not, lmk ur thoughts.

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia

[aetherose]

"Esteri—" And her sister had stopped listening to her entirely. Figures. She facepalms. (Well, don't say she didn't warn Esteri when she intervenes in the executions later this month...)

She stopped listening to her dear sister. She is planning the executions, scribbling notes down on a piece of paper.

[zev-zev]

having more silverv thoughts and i have to share them.

i know the scene at johnny’s grave is THE silverv turning point, with johnny and v both showing off how much they truly care for each other but—that moment at the hotel with johnny when he decides to give v his dog tags???? god i love that moment too. esp with how johnny calls the tags “proof” of him turning over a new leaf; where he intends to save v instead of just letting them die. and i really think it’s such a HUGE gesture, especially coming from johnny! and not even solely because of his physical promise to v but because of what the dog tags once represented.

johnny fought in the corpo war. he was a blind follower under arasaka’s boot for a long time. hell! his robotic arm is arasaka made. he was a soldier. he tells v how he rotted inside that hotel room for days, or even weeks, realizing what a terrible human being he’s become under arasaka and just how horrible corpos truly are.

and yet— something he resents so much, he changes into something for the better. the dog tags once were proof of his rage. his blind, ignorant rage for arasaka, for the war, but mainly the rage he felt towards himself. johnny truly hated himself at this point in his life. it was his own pivotal moment in life where he, then and there, would take a stand against corpos. so much rage embedded in the metal tags but there he is; offering them up, his own twisted hate, to v. but with an entirely new meaning.

he offers the tags not only in proof of wanting to save v but in proof that he cared more for them than he let on. changing the tags meaning from his promise of rage to turning them into something v could have to think of HIM. to think of him at that moment. where any time the metal lay flat on v’s skin or when v would absentmindedly fiddle with the tags; johnny wanted them to not think of how angry he used to be, or how much he genuinely despised himself—he wanted v to think of this new side of him. this softer, caring side where he promised to give up his own “life”(so to speak ofc) so that v may live. the greatest sacrifice anyone could accomplish and johnny was willing to do it, for v! never rouge or alt or kerry or anyone else that mattered in his life, no, for v.

and it’s almost funny how johnny shows his feelings before this moment too. how as soon as v had passed out from the relic induced seizure, his first thoughts were to, not only save v, but to take them to the hotel where he had stashed his rage. knowing in that moment that he wanted to give up his tags as proof of his literal physical devotion to v. and god he was entirely devoted to v the minute he dragged the body to that hotel room. not only to serve as a place where v would be safe while they were incapacitated from said relic malfunction—but to also prove to v how much he was willing to change FOR v. because he cared so much about them even if he couldn’t really find the right words to say it.

knowing he took what was once his rage for arasaka, the war, the loss of the people closest to him during this time; took it all and instead turned it into his desire to protect and save v. and his rage is definitely not something easily given up on, which is clear throughout the game.

and ugh idk. just getting to see these little moments of where johnny changes but specifically changes for v drives me insane. every little moment between them feels so much bigger than it really is when you know that they’re meant to be soulmates.

[noceurous]

take the heat away, make the girl stay

your boyfriend is always capable of finding solutions to anything, including heatwaves

warnings: cursing, mention of kids, i’d say dilf!dave but he is already a dad, possessive!dave, some ice play, smut (18+), p in v, fingering, usage of various nicknames (honey, darling, baby), daddy kink, praise kink, some cumplay, this is basically little plot big smut

a/n: this is my entrance to #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel (thank you so much kylee for this amazing challenge it really inspired me). it's also my protest against this heat and humidity on where i live. as always reblogs/comments are always appreciated.

You huffed, annoyed from the heat. Constantly tossing and turning on the couch. It felt like hands made out of fire and hot steam were constantly caressing your body.

You got up, heading to the fridge. You needed something, anything, cold to keep you sane. You smiled when the cold air from fridge hit your face when you opened its door.

The picture Dave’s kids drew were decorating the fridge. You loved when he went on full dad mode sometimes, buying fruit and veggies even snacks rich in fibers whenever his kids came to stay at his place. He cared about their classes and high school gossip, used his sources to track their potential boyfriends.

And no, they didn’t have a clue about their caring father was dating a girl who was closer to them in age wise. He knew Carol would have a hard time to keep her mouth shut about you, filling girls’ heads with wrong ideas. He was waiting for the best moment to open up to them first. That’s why the pictures you two had were either on his phone or in your place.

You took out a glass, filling it with ice, and pouring soda over it. The sizzles and bubbling noise made you feel better already. Pressing the cold glass on your cheek, whimpering at the feeling. You could feel sweat moving down between your breasts and your back. The coldness of the glass made you realize how hot your body was.

You heard your boyfriend’s voice as he entered the room, turning your body towards him. “Honey did you see my t—“ He stopped talking when he saw you.

Leaning over on his counter in your underwear and a small tank top, pressing a glass to your cheek. Your body was glistening with sweat.

“I didn’t see anything.” You said, checking him out as he did to you. He had just gotten out of shower, water droplets still dripping from his hair. Clean shaven as always. Lack of facial hair brought out his lips and cheeks, which you loved to wander on with your lips.

“Too hot?” He raised an eyebrow, doing the best he could to save your look in his memory. In small amount of fabric and shining like a goddess.

“I think I have just passed out and woken up again by the heat. We need to buy a new ceiling fan.” You said, pressing the glass on your other cheek.

“What’s wrong with the old one?” He asked, resting his hip on the kitchen counter, watching the sweat drops move down from your sternum disappearing inside your top. The need to touch you became more persistent.

“It’s about to die.” You explained after you pressed the glass on your forehead, trying to cool down your body before drinking your soda.

“Okay. I will take care of it.” He nodded, taking a mental note. Slowly leaning to give you a kiss but stopped when you placed your hand on his chest.

“It’s too hot.”

“Even to kiss you?”

“Even to stand near me.”

He looked you up and down, looking for a sign of doubt after you denied him. “Is this because I had to cancel our trip to Hawaii?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged taking a sip from your still cold drink. Your brain almost froze with your overuse of ice but you tried to play it cool. Freezing seemed much better than boiling.

“Darling, trust me there is not even one cell I have that does not want to take you to Hawaii. It’s just some idiot messed up something important and I need to clean after him. Promise, I will take you there after I’m done with this. Kids are still with Carol, we still have time.”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up the rest of your drink. Dave made plans to spend the last two weeks of summer with the girls in his cabin, and of course you’d be staying here watering his imaginary plants. You had no right to bitch about how good he was as a father, when he made you this wet by being so.

He leant down to kiss you again, but you scoffed away. He groaned, placed his arm on your waist, pulling you closer to him to smash his lips on yours. You sighed when you felt his lukewarm body pressed against yours. You quickly gave into the kiss, he was too good of a kisser for you to push him away.

He placed your glass on the counter, dipped his fingers in to take out the ice. You watched water droplets slide down his long fingers, just before he placed the ice where your shoulder met your neck.

You hissed at the cold feeling on your skin, moving your head to the side to give him more access. “See, that’s better right?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, watching his gaze fixated on your neck. “I think I can kiss you there now too, no more blaming it on the heat.” He leant over you, tongue tracing along the wet trail where the ice left.

You felt your knees get weaker as his tongue moved on your body, the wetness pooling in your underwear became more prominent. “D—dave.” You said, hands went to his belt of the bathrobe.

“Try again, darling. Who is making you feel good?” He said as he swiped the ice across your collarbones, following the trail with wet kisses, sucking down on the last spot.

“D—daddy!” You exclaimed, unwrapping his bathrobe, letting it show his glory.

“That’s right. Do you want Daddy to make you feel better? Make the heat go away?” He placed his forefinger under your chin, tucking it up for you to look at his eyes.

The familiar warmth of brown of his pupils left its place to hungry darkness, waiting for your permission to go on.

“Yes.” He motioned you to the kitchen counter. Palm tapping on the very expensive white marble.

“Hop on.” He said as he helped you sit on the counter, standing between your legs.

His gaze was dropped down to your chest, seeing your nipples perked up through thin fabric. He licked his lips, watching you wiggle on the counter. “Take off your top for me.” He ordered and watched you obey just the second he finished talking.

He moved the half melted ice to his mouth, placing it between his lips as he placed his hands on you. Your body shivered at the cold contact of his fingers, wanting more. He gently pushed you down on the counter, watching your body jolt with the cold stone.

His lips moved across your naked chest, moving south from the hickey he just gave you. He circled it around your nipples, watching them perk up against the cold. You looked like a statue he carved to himself lying under him, all pretty just for his eyes.

When the ice melted down to a tiny indecisive shape, he swallowed it. His lips and tongue were cold enough to give you shivers when he pressed a kiss above your belly button. “Mine.” He murmured, taking another ice from your glass between his lips. Droplets mixed with water and soda dropping on his floor.

His tidy mind was too focused on you lying needy in front of him. He threw it inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He placed it back between his lips, kneeling in to move the ice along your thighs. His hands were placed on the back of your calves, gently separating your legs. He smiled when he saw the large wet patch on your underwear, leaning closer to trace the ice along your inner thighs, wanting to see your reaction.

“Oh!” You held your breath, feeling the cold between your legs. Your eyes fluttered, your clit throbbing inside your panties. You bit down on your lower lip when you looked up and saw his cock; in a dark shade of red, looked like it hurt him.

You licked your lips at the sight, wanting to touch him, feel him. When you tried to move your hand to him, he held your hand, placing it next to your head. “What do you want?” He said, moving the ice on your lower belly. Watching the cotton soak up the droplets.

“I want you.”

“You already have me darling. You need to be more precise.” He said as he moved the ice higher; from your hips to your belly, then to your sternum, missing your breasts and your needy swollen nipples on purpose.

“I want you to fuck me until I’m no longer bothered by heat.” He smiled, pressing the ice on your lips.

“Open.” He pushed the ice between your lips, feeling himself throb when he saw how you took the ice between your lips.

He cupped your pussy, before dipping inside. Fingers tracing along your slit. You moaned. “Fuck, you are so wet baby. And so hot, what will I do with you?” You wanted to open your mouth but his gaze on you was a warning enough.

He collected your slick from your slit, pressing his finger tip on your clit. “Oh, Daddy!” You moaned, tugging down on his hand holding yours. His finger circled around your entrance, pushing his finger inside. You moaned under him, feeling the coldness left from the ice.

“So tight, so warm…” A whimper left your mouth when his finger curled inside you. “That’s my good girl, so responsive.” He kissed your temple, pushing another finger inside you.

“Fuck!” He chuckled, fastening his fingers as his other hand held your wrist tightly. Still surprised with the way you clamped down on his fingers, small whimpers leaving your lovely lips and eyes flashed open with pleasure. Small frown between your eyebrows from the pleasure.

You came down around his fingers, chest moving up and down quickly. He pressed a quick kiss on your neck, pulling out his fingers.

He sucked down on his middle finger. “Taste so good, better than anything you can imagine.” You felt yourself flutter, as he raised you back on your feet.

“Take off your robe.” You protested, lips still felt numb from the ice. You pushed the soft material down his shoulders, making him stand naked as you did. You looked down when it fell to ground with a thud. Feeling victory when you saw his aching cock; tip glistening with precum.

You kissed on his neck, taking in the scent of his shower gel, pine and something more bitter. His body shivered slightly to press of your cold lips. You kissed along his shoulder and chest, as he wrapped your leg around his waist. His cock aligned perfectly to your entrance with your angle.

Before a sound could leave your mouth, he pressed his lips to yours, taking in your whimpers and moans as he pushed himself into you. He bit down your lip when your warmness surrounded him, groaning against your cold lips as he started moving inside you.

You placed your arms around his neck, fingers tangling around his locks. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “Shit, you’re so big.” You whispered between kisses, nails scratching the back of his head.

He nudged your nose with his. His large hands pushed your body closer to him. Feeling the heat radiating from the space between your legs. Perfectly pressed on his groin.

You were looking at him, head dizzy with pleasure, eyes were locked into his. Your breasts were pressed onto his chest. “You’re a sight, aren’t you?” Too afraid to admit to himself how precious you were to him. Afraid you’d be slipping from his fingers if he got any louder. One of those fingers had a ring mark that already faded away, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

“I’m your sight.” You responded, lips forming a soft smile on his, pressing a gentle kiss. You loved to be owned by him, being his and his only. Letting him take control of your mind and body when you feel overwhelmed to do it by yourself.

Now the heat was the least thing on your minds when his balls felt tighter and you felt your walls closing around him. “You’re close.” He said as his chest swollen with pride, feeling himself larger than he already was.

You nodded, breathing got quicker and you felt your silk coat your inner thighs. “Yeah.” You answered, your body moved without consulting your brain and your elbow hit your glass, knocking it down.

Pieces of glass, soda, and ice mixed all together on the floor. You didn’t care when you felt your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, almost slipping from his arms but he was holding you tightly.

“That’s my good girl, my perfect girl coming for her daddy.” His hand at the back of your neck, holding you up as his thrusts got sloppier.

He pressed his nose down at your shoulder, his teeth sinking down into your shoulder. Marking your soft skin up, his eyes closed with the pleasure. You felt his hot cum fill you up, leak from your hole to smear around your thighs.

He stayed inside you for a while, kissing you with all he got. It felt like you belonged to him, your place was between his arms. “We’re going to Hawaii tomorrow night, I’ll make some calls, and you should pack your bags.”

“Really?” You could not stop smiling, cupping his cheek to make sure this was real.

“Anything for you.” He said kissing the top of your nose.

“Then we need to take a cold shower again, after I clean up here.” He clicked his tongue on his upper palate, wrapping your tired legs around his torso.

“Shower first, cleaning up second. It's too hot.” He said as he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled as you burried your face on his neck, mentally preparing yourself for the second round.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 3, Episode 5 - Bedtime Stories

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Hi my beauties! Another late update but it’s better late than never. Work has been a pain in my ass, plus it’s carnival season in my country and that means school projects for my little cousins are piling in. Istg, those teachers basically make us do the projects and not them XD

Though I’m pushing through and taking every little chance I get to write, which is barely any hahaha. Hope everyone likes this one!

Warning: smut, p-in-v sex, oral (male receiving), teasing and angst if you squint really hard.

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Somewhere in the US

The Impala was casually driven down the desolate gravelly road with Dean Winchester behind the wheel. At this very moment, Sam and Y/N were going back and forth with Dean, trying to persuade him. “We don’t understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam argued as Y/N glared at her boyfriend. “Because I said so” Dean stated firmly, keeping his eyes glued on the road.

Sam huffed in annoyance at his brother’s response, looking over to Y/N for support. “We’ve got the Colt now” Y/N defended, leaning forward from the backseat. “Y/N…” Dean warned. “We can summon the crossroads demon-” Sam added, “We’re not summoning anything” Dean snapped back. “-pull the gun on her and force her to let you out!” Sam continued shouting.

“We don’t even know if that’ll work!” Dean argued back, “Well then we’ll just shoot her, if she dies then the deal goes away!” Y/N yelled, “We don’t know if that’ll work either, guys!” He cried out, he was tempted to throw them both out of the car. “All you’re pitching me right now is a bunch of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ and that’s not good enough because if we fuck with this deal then both of you die!!” Dean exploded.

He was beyond frustrated at his brother and girlfriend for how naive they are being right now. They were determined and stubborn about it but Dean wasn’t willing to listen to their ridiculous plan, the idea of risking their lives to save his was heart wrenching.

Y/N and Sam were both equally frustrated and angry with themselves at how stubborn Dean is being about his whole ‘no to summoning the crossroads demon’. Yet despite their irritation, they care and love for him more than anything and are desperate to get him out of his deal although feeling helpless.

“And if we don’t screw with it, you die!” Y/N retorted, the pain and anger clear in her tone. “Sam, Y/N, ENOUGH!” He bellowed loudly, slapping his steering wheel in frustration. “I’m not gonna have this conversation!!” Y/N clenched her jaw, tightening her grip around her locket. “Why, because you said so?!” She mocked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“YES BECAUSE I SAID SO”

“WELL YOU’RE NOT JOHN OR DAD!!”

He paused and gripped the steering wheel at her words, his whole body went rigid in the driver’s seat. Meanwhile, Sam froze. his jaw falling agape. Right now, he was wishing his seat would swallow him. “Excuse me?” Dean said stiffly. Y/N kept her gaze hard, knowing she had just stepped into uncharted territory, but she never shied from a challenge.

“You heard me” She stated firmly, holding her ground as she crossed her arms over her chest. His head snapped over into her direction, the two lovers holding a heated gaze in which both were not backing down from before he focused back onto the road. “No, but I am the oldest. And I’m doing what’s best!” Sam and Y/N sighed in frustration, rolling their eyes at Dean’s words. “But Dean-!“

“You’re gonna let this go, you understand me?” He interrupted Sam’s protest, his expression as serious as a heart attack, Sam held back a scoff as he nodded stiffly, not really having a choice in the matter. Dean then turned to Y/N, he shot her a stern look, his expression demanding in compliance, “Are we clear?” He stated firmly. Y/N gritted her teeth, raising a brow at him, “Excuse me?” she bit back bitterly.

He looked at her, her stubbornness getting on his last nerve. “I gave you an order!” he snapped. Her head flew up with shock, her heart dropped in her chest. She felt like she was 14 again, forced to listen to her father. Tears welled up in her eyes, staring back at him with disbelief as she practically shrunk into her seat. Sam’s eyes widened, the look on his face said ‘You did not just say that’.

The second those words left his mouth, he regretted them. He went bug-eyed wide when he saw how hurt his girlfriend’s features turned, the look in her eyes told him he messed up big time.

Y/N forced herself to close her mouth, swallowing harshly. She tore her gaze away from Dean, shutting down mentally and emotionally. It was uncommon for her to shut down, usually she’d snap back at her father after she grew a pair and started rebelling with Sam but hearing it come from Dean made her crumble. “Yes, sir” she muttered through a croaky voice and watery eyes.

Right there and then, his heart shattered into pieces at her soft reply, he had never made her use that word before, not even in a sexy way, usually it was reserved for their dads. Hearing her call him like that felt so wrong on so many levels. He never wanted her to ever be afraid of him, that was never his intention. He knew he really screwed up, at a loss for words, feeling guilty and ashamed.

Sam shifted his eyes over to Y/N, who was clutching at the book in her lap, biting her lip to stop her tears from flowing. His face dropped, a painful pang hitting in his own heart before he looked at his brother, glaring at him.

The brothers communicated with their eyes, ‘Apologize’ Sam’s face told him in Winchesterarian.

Dean met his gaze, an expression of helplessness and ‘I don’t know how to’ written on his face.

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he jerked his head toward Y/N, ‘Apologize. Now.’

He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head, telling him to just apologize to her. He could’ve been able to just do it until he dared to look at his girlfriend through the corner of his eye. Seeing her teary eyes that she was trying to mask over with a cold expression was the thing that had him feeling like he had been shot in the heart.

“Y/N...” He tried, softly, “Baby, look at me” Her nostrils flared at his desperate plea, further turning herself in the corner of the backseat behind Sam. She didn’t dare to look at him, cursing herself internally for getting so worked up. Why didn’t she just snap back? She’s usually good at that.

He swallowed hard, it felt like there was a lump in throat, his heart shattering even more the more he watched her refuse to look at him. “Please? Look at me” he begged lowly, reaching over to place her hand on her thigh. She remained silent, Sam’s gaze burning into the side of his brother’s head. The younger Winchester felt as though he was in the middle of the argument of the parents he never had.

The pain only increased at the action as she practically slapped his hand away, he skulked like a kicked puppy. He had to restrain himself from grabbing her and making her look at him.

“Tell him about the psychotic killer” She told the younger Winchester, her voice wavering as she leaned back into the seat, pulling her knees to her chest, not even bothering to take her off her black knee-high boots. Sam, on the other hand, was pissed at Dean.

‘What? I tried’ Dean responded in Winchesterarian, attempting to shrug nonchalantly. Sam shot him a nasty glare that said, ‘You can try harder, you jerk’ before he looked at Y/N, who was now hugging her knees against her chest, “The what?” Sam asked gently, turning around to face her.

“From the newspaper clipping inside the book” She answered, resting her chin on her knee. Sam nodded, furrowing his brows as he opened the book and started to read over the article. Dean let Sam go over all the case information, his eyes once again glued to his girlfriend’s form in the backseat. He really hated himself right now.

“Psychotic killer: Rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.” Sam read off of the article, “Okay, any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his 4-inch claws, animal eyes?” Dean joked half-heartedly, his question directed to Y/N. She simply shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on the droplets of rain running down the window. Dean let out a puff of air. He wanted this conversation to be over so he could just hug her and take it all back.

“Sammy?” he turned to Sam who also shook his head. “But the lunar cycle’s right” Sam sighed, “Look, if it is a werewolf, we don’t have long. Moon’s full Friday and that’s the last time he changes for a month” He added urgent, his tone solemn. “Two days, no sweat.” Dean mumbled, glancing back at Y/N who now was in the middle of lighting a cigarette.

She took a deep puff of her cigarette before letting out a loud sigh, rolling down the window since the rain cleared up. Dean watched the glow of the butt between her fingers, her elbow resting on the window. Her emotions were at war with each other as she inhaled the nicotine.

On one hand, she was boiling with anger towards him but on the other, she longed to just forget about it and be held in his arms. She and Sam just wanted to help him, that’s all.

____________________________________________

Maple Springs, New York

“I’m Detective Plant, this is Detective Page and Lee” Dean introduced himself to the sole survivor of the ‘psychotic killer’ mauling, flashing him his fake badge along with Sam and Y/N before pointing to them. Sam and Dean used the last names of the frontmen of legendary English rock band Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. While Y/N used the last name of Evanescence’s lead singer, Amy Lee.

“We’re with the County Sheriff’s Department” He added as they all simultaneously opened their suit jackets, stuffing them into the inner pockets. Y/N wore a suit this round too, contrasting her usual blouse with a skirt.

“Yeah, uh, been expecting you” Kyle, the sole survivor, sighed from his hospital bed. He wore a blue hospital gown, along with stitches to the side of his face due to claw marks from the ‘psychotic killer’. “Yeah? You have?” Y/N asked, the trio shocked. “All morning. You are the sketch artists, right?”

“Um…” Sam hummed nervously, “Absolutely” Dean chimed in confidently, Y/N glanced over at him raising a brow before nodding along in confirmation. “That is actually who my partner is,” Dean smiled, pointing to Sam. Y/N caught his drift, when Dean nudged her, going along with it, “Oh, man. The things he can do with a pen” Her words caused Sam to panic.

Sam awkwardly chuckled before side-eying the two. “But, listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you…uh, how'd you get away?” Dean asked as he stuffed his hand into his pocket. Kyle’s expression darkened at the question, he inhaled deeply to calm himself down before answering. “I- I have no idea. I was hiding…and he found me. He was coming right for me and then he just stopped”

Dean, Y/N and Sam exchanged looks with each other, all three wearing the same expression of confusion. Kyle’s breathing became labored as he reminisced, “Stared at me with this blank look. After that, he just took off running” Sam and Y/N looked at the man with pure sympathy, their hearts aching for him. His situation hit home since they related to his survivor's guilt.

“Okay…um” Sam cleared his throat, swallowing as he took out his notepad from his pocket. “I’m gonna need as much physical detail as you can remember” The younger Winchester flipped the pad open before clicking his pen. Dean and Y/N peered over his shoulder with amusement, eager to see what ‘drawing’ he was gonna come up with.

Kyle nodded before taking a moment to compose himself. “Uh..yeah. He was about six feet tall. Dark hair” He inhaled sharply. “Um..what about his eyes? What color eyes did he have?” Sam asked, lifting his pen. “Uh…blue? It was dark” Kyle answered, puzzled as Sam nodded. Dean shot Y/N an amused look, taking in how she was smiling at the panic Sam was in.

She glanced over at him, her smile faltering as they made eye contact before focusing back on Kyle. Dean’s face dropped along with his heart. “Did they seem…animalish?” She asked, “Excuse me?” Kyle’s brows furrowed. “What about his teeth? You notice anything strange about them?” Sam chimed in, scrambling to save his drawing that was turning out to be a complete disaster.

“No, they were just teeth” Kyle shook his head, his eyes squinted in confusion. “Teeth. Okay” Sam responded. “What about his fingernails?” Dean asked, “Look, he’s- he’s just a normal guy with normal eyes and teeth and fingernails” Kyle began to hyperventilate, Y/N immediately picked up on the tell-tale signs of a panic attack, having experienced them herself. “Sir, it’s okay, we’re just-” She tried to comfort him.

“No” Kyle became choked up, tears welling up in his eyes as he shook his head frantically. “No. Those were my brothers. This guy…he killed my brothers. The only family I had.” Sam and Y/N’s expression softened, their hearts breaking for the broken man on the hospital bed. Dean had his expression of pure pity as Kyle burst into tears, his shoulders shaking as sobs filled the room. “How would you feel?” He asked them.

He felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart at Kyle’s question as Y/N’s gaze dropped to the ground, biting at her lip to stop herself from becoming choked up also while the images of Sam dying flashed in her head. The two shared a sorrowful look before answering, “Can’t imagine anything worse” Sam replied, swallowing harshly as he imagined anything happening to Dean.

“Agreed” Y/N sighed in agreement, Dean’s gaze shifted over to the two, his expression filled with guilt and remorse. He took a deep breath, “Look, I know this isn’t easy but if you could remember any more details..” Dean said to Kyle gently. Kyle nodded through the sobs before he inhaled deeply, wiping the fresh tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I got- I just” He began to apologize, “It’s okay, hun” Y/N reassured him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Just..go back to that night. You were at the construction site” Dean prompted him. Kyle thought for a second, “There was one more thing. He had a, uh…a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character” Kyle tried to remember. “It was the guy, who- He was chasing the Road Runner” He rubbed his head as Dean and Y/N’s faces lit up. “Wile E. Coyote” They answered in unison, pointing at him in recognition.

“Yeah, that’s it” Kyle confirmed, Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from screaming victory. "That’s the bastard,” Dean smirked. Sam looked at them almost impressed as he continued scribbling on the notepad. “Kyle?” A voice said from behind them, their heads turned to face Dr. Garrison. “Dr. Garrison” Kyle smiled sadly at the man. “How are you holding up?” The doctor asked his patient in concern.

“Okay, considering” Kyle sighed, “You’re, uh, Kyle’s doctor?” Dean asked, taking out his fake badge. “Yes,” Dr. Harrison raised a brow at them. “Can I just ask you a few questions?” He asked, gesturing for them to step outside. “Uh- Sure” The doctor nodded, his expression puzzled at the question.Dr. Garrison followed Dean outside into the hallway before he shut the door behind them as Sam and Y/N stayed with Kyle.

“Don’t I get to see it?” Kyle asked Sam, pointing to the sketch in his notepad. Sam’s eyes widened as he flipped open the sketchpad, Y/N peered over his shoulder again, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing at the horrendous drawing. “Uh…yeah, yeah” Sam chuckled nervously, handing Kyle the pad. “It’s a, you know, work in progress” Kyle took the pad from him, his brows furrowing as he tried to make out the messy drawing. “It’s really..um-” Kyle responded confused, giving Sam a pitiful look.

-

The trio were now walking back to the Impala, Dean was cackling at the drawing in Sam’s pad as Y/N snickered into her palm. “Boy, this is a piece of art, really” Dean laughed as Y/N snickered into her hand. “Yeah, like you could’ve done any better” Sam rolled his eyes, snatching the pad away from Dean before smacking his brother in the back of the head with the pad. “Ow, hey!” Dean rubbed the back of his head before he continued snickering.

Y/N took the pad out of Sam’s hands, laughing harder at the drawing the longer she examined it, “I’m so framing this” Dean smiled at her laugh, enjoying seeing her laugh after the silence she’s been giving him. He chuckled at her comment, “No” Sam whined in protest, “It’s not that funny” He reached for the pad, but Y/N snatched it away, holding it out of his reach. “Oh, hell yeah it is” she shot back before sticking it in her pants. “But I-“

“Don’t even” she warned playfully, shutting him up. Sam pouted as she reached up, patting him on his head of hair before he turned to Dean. “What did the doc have to say about Kyle’s brothers?” He asked as he sighed in defeat. “Not much, they were DOA at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report” Dean replied, “Let me guess, their hearts were missing” Sam muttered as they continued to pace down the sidewalk.

“Nope, but chunks of their kidneys, lungs and intestines” Dean answered, Sam and Y/N grimaced in disgust and confusion. “Dude, that’s just gross” she mumbled, gagging, “Yeah, also definitely not werewolf behavior” He agreed, feeling a bloom of relief that she sorta spoke to him. Whether it was indirectly or not, he would take anything he got at this very moment from her. Hell, he’d take another slap if it means they’d kiss and make up.

“So, what? A demon? Attacker could’ve been possessed” Sam suggested, “Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?” Y/N questioned, raising a brow. “I think that- uh…could it-. I got nothing” Sam stuttered, “Me neither” Dean agreed, nudging Y/N with his elbow. She looked up at him in acknowledgment, giving a nod before she sighed.

The hunter smiled back at his psychic as the trio finally approached the Impala and stood in a comfortable silence while Dean unlocked the door. That was quickly disturbed by Sam clearing his throat. They turned to face him, his arms crossed with a raised eyebrow. “Can you two at least talk to each other, or are you gonna ignore each other for the rest of the hunt?”

Y/N and Dean snapped their heads together, meeting each other's eyes for a split second before looking away. Y/N avoided looking at Dean altogether while he shot a warning look at Sam. “Shut up, Sammy” The couple snapped in unison before simultaneously opening their doors, Dean opening the drivers side and Y/N opening the passenger’s side, both climbing in.

Sam sighed, his hands dropping to his sides but a small, smug smirk formed on his lips as he opened the back door and settled into the back seat. Y/N crossed her arms as she stared out the window while Dean sighed, starting the car, his eyes shifting over to her every so often. The silence immediately fell over the car like a thick sheet, and tension was radiating off in waves from the front of the car.

Sam groaned to himself as he sunk into the seat, knowing it’d be another 15 minutes of unbearable atmosphere until they got to the motel room and then another however long this fight was gonna last until they made up.

____________________________________________

The evening was now setting in. Dean went out to get dinner for everyone while Y/N stayed back in their motel room and Sam stayed in his separate one. Now, she was on a phone call with Jo, rambling on about her argument with Dean.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Jo” Y/N sighed heavily through the phone as she laid on her side, staring up at the ceiling. “I know you’re both stubborn as hell, but you’re gonna have to talk to him. This can’t go on forever” Jo responded with a calm, stern tone. Y/N groaned, burying her head into one of the pillows.

“I want to but I can’t!” She exclaimed defensively. “Everytime I look at him now, all I see is dad and it’s so fucking-….UGH!” She screamed into the pillow, her words muffled along with her string of curses and shouts. “Hey- hey” Jo replied with a comforting tone. “I know, the whole ‘Daddy issues’ thing is a huge trigger. But this is Dean, he’s not John or your dad” There was a soft yet stern tone to her words, trying to talk some sense into her friend.

“I do not have daddy issues” Y/N scoffed, pulling her head out of the pillow to prop herself against the bed frame. Jo scoffed right back. “You so do and so does Dean. Hell, all four of us do” Jo responded bluntly, “You have major, unresolved trauma that stems from your dad. You and I both know it” She said gently. Y/N inhaled deeply, biting at her lip. Y/N knew she was right. The two of them had had similar conversations a thousand times before.

“I hate you, sometimes” Y/N bit back, running a hand against her forehead. “No, you love me” Jo chuckled, her laughter brightening the mood. Y/N smiled, rolling her eyes even though she knew the girl couldn’t see her, “Just…talk to him. Yell at him, smack him, whatever, I don’t care. Just end this stupid fight you two are having” Jo continued, growing serious once more.

Y/N chuckled bitterly to herself, the irony of the situation kicking in. “Who knew, our first fight is somehow our dads faults” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, go figure” Jo muttered, “Listen- I gotta go, Sam’s calling me. But you promise me, Y/N. That you’ll talk to him” Jo told her softly but firmly. Y/N nodded even though she knew Jo couldn’t see her. “Yeah, yeah. I will” She finally caved.

“Good, cause I don’t want to be your guys’ relationship counselor” They shared a soft laugh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?” Y/N joked. “Cause I’m awesome and you love me” Jo deadpanned before both girls burst into laughter, “Alright, love you, be safe” the younger huntress sent a kiss through the phone. “Love you too” Y/N replied with a bittersweet laugh, “Bye”

She hung up and laid it on the bedside table next to her, her smile falling almost immediately. She could still hear Jo’s words playing in her head, echoing through her mind as she groaned loudly. She sighed as she flopped back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Jo was right, she needed to talk to Dean. She couldn’t let this go on any longer.

-

Meanwhile, Dean strolled down the halls of the motel. His left hand was loaded with two bags, one bag containing his and Y/N’s dinner and the other with Sam’s. While his right hand held a bouquet of Y/N’s favorite flowers and a bag with her favorite snacks, a carton of her favorite cigarettes and a chocolate chip cookie bigger than his head, you’d swear it was a cake.

He came to a stop in front of Sam’s door, tucking the flowers under his arm gently, ensuring he didn’t crush the delicate fresh petals. He brought his free hand, pounding it against the hardwood.

Sam was sitting at the desk inside, his phone to his ear, his head propped up on his other fist while a coy smile played on his face. “Mmm, I think I’d like th-” His attention immediately turned to the door at the knock, jumping in his seat. “Shit- Hold on baby, I think Dean’s back” He told Jo quickly over the phone, placing it down on the table before standing up to make his way over to the door.

He raised an eyebrow as a smirk appeared on his face as he swung the door open, glancing between the bags and bouquet that was tucked under his brother’s arm. “Trying to butter her up?” Sam snickered as Dean rolled his eyes, pushing past Sam and into the room. “Oh shut up” He muttered, putting the bag with his little brother’s dinner down on the desk. Sam’s eyes flicked to the enormous cookie and cigarettes.

“Dude, it’s like the size of my head” Sam chuckled, moving to open it. “Hands off, it’s not for you” Dean quickly snatched it back, giving a stern look. Sam snickered, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, I got you a salad like a healthy person” He rolled his eyes, “Fucking rabbit food” he muttered. “I’d rather eat ‘rabbit food’ than have a heart attack before I’m thirty” Sam fired back as he sat back down by the desk.

“Whatever, bitch.” Dean scoffed, flipping Sam off over his shoulder as he walked back out of the room. Sam chuckled once more as he shut the door behind him, turning the lock before heading back to his seat in front of his laptop, picking his phone back up off the table. “I’m back” He finally spoke into the phone once he settled. “And you were gone for too long,” Jo replied with a playful tone.

-

As Dean made his way back to their room, he inhaled deeply. She was probably still pissed at him, and rightfully so. She was also stubborn though, and she’d probably just continue to stonewall him until he properly apologized or she blew up.

He paused, looking down at the gifts in his hands as he reached the door to their room. Maybe a peace offering will do the trick? He sighed to himself as he took out the key to the room.

He tried to be as quiet as possible, unlocking the door cautiously and carefully opening it. He found her laying on the bed, her back facing the door. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not, but he knew she wasn’t going to be in a good mood by the way her shoulders seemed to be tense.

He shut the door carefully behind him, setting the bags with the food on the table before he slowly approached the bed, hiding the flowers in one hand and the bag with the cookie and cigarettes behind his back. He sighed once more and softly cleared his throat.

“Princess?” He called out quietly before pausing, waiting for her to either acknowledge him or ignore him completely. When she didn’t respond, he moved to stand next to the side of the bed, watching her for a moment. Despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at him, he could still tell she was definitely pissed. Hell, she was radiating it.

But her heart softened at the desperate tone in his voice, her eyes meeting his. Y/N pushed herself up from the bed, staring at Dean intensely as he kept the gifts hidden behind his back. Now that he had her attention, he hesitated for a moment before bringing the gifts into her vision.

“I, um, I got you a little something” He spoke cautiously as he held them out for her. He gave a small smile, an olive branch if you will. He looked hopeful, like a lost puppy, as he held up the bag that held the ridiculously huge cookie inside, cigarettes and then the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you…” He murmured.

Y/N looked from the gifts then back to Dean, she raised an eyebrow gently as her gaze shifted from his hand back to his face. She was surprised, to say the least, “Are you trying to butter me up?” Y/N repeated Sam’s words, her voice firm but not sharp, “You think you can just buy your way out with cookies and cigarettes?” She asked bluntly, not letting him off the hook so easily.

“No I-“ He exhaled, sighing. He shook his head, dropping the bag and the flowers on the nightstand. He ran his free hand over his mouth nervously, taking a second to gather his words. This was no time for cute sarcasm and corny jokes. He had to choose his words wisely.

“No, I don’t” He replied honestly, his face going serious. “I just- I just wanted to get you some of your favourites. I wasn’t trying to buy forgiveness” He responded softly. “I just...I just wanted to show that I don’t wanna keep being cold to each other…I’m sorry” He apologized genuinely yet simply, which was hard for him since he wasn’t good at it. “Please just…let me in, princess…I’m beggin’ you”

She felt her resolve falter at his words and his tone, how open and vulnerable he was being. She hated that he knew just what to do and what to say to melt her into a puddle. Damn him.

She exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping as she shook her head slightly at herself for how quickly he could get to her. “Asshat” She muttered, her words lacking any venom behind them. He let out a soft huff of a laugh, a small grin forming on his lips, “Nutcase” He playfully shot back.

His body relaxed since he was slowly but surely making his way through the wall she’s built up around herself. He took a deep breath, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He shifted his body so he was facing her. He set the cookies down beside her on the bed before reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Hey, look at me” He murmured.

She inhaled and exhaled a few times, refusing to give in. “Baby, c’mon, look at me” He pleaded again, his tone serious now. After a couple moments she finally broke, letting out a defeated huff before her eyes moved to meet his own. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this apologizing stuff. I ain’t no Shakespeare but I really am sorry. I should’ve never said that, I’m not dad and I’m certainly not your father” He emphasized on the ‘never’.

If her heart wasn’t pounding in her chest and melting at his words, she would’ve let out a light laugh. Of course this is when he actually starts to do the right thing and take things seriously.

She let out a sigh, crossing her arms in front of her. “No, you’re not them” She agreed with a huff before her expression softened slightly, “But…you still hurt me, y’know” She told him slowly, trying to word her thoughts without coming off too confrontational.

“I just-“ Tears pricked at her eyes again, she forced herself to swallow them, deferring her gaze to her hands. “I just don’t want to see you go” She whispered, he felt his heart drop to his feet at that. The tone of her voice made it worse.

He shuffled to sit right next to her now, resting his hand on her knee, “C’mere” He murmured, pulling her over into his lap. Once she was settled he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to his body. He pressed his forehead against the side of her neck, “I’m sorry” He apologized once more, “I just couldn’t live without you”

Her head shot up, “And now I’m supposed to live without you?” She scoffed, pulling herself off of his lap. “Sam is supposed to live without you?!” Her voice raised. He couldn’t find a response. Part of him wanted to be selfish and say yes, but he knew it was wrong. Sam had already lost their dad, losing him would break him, but Dean didn’t realize that.

“Y/N-“ He started to protest, only for her to cut him off. “Why?” She questioned firmly, crossing her arms in front of her, “Why is it okay for you to die in months, huh?” She shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. “It’s not fair, Dean! We can help you!”

He rose from the bed, his jaw clenched, “We’ve been through this already” He told her in a stern tone. She let out a scoff through her nose, “Well I’m sorry for having a hard time swallowing the fact my boyfriend is going to die, just a little” She shot back sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed at her, “You think it’s easy for me?!” He huffed, his own frustration bubbling up. She rolled her eyes, matching his irritation as her arms fell by her sides. “No, actually, I don’t think it’s easy for you! But you’re acting like if you’re okay when clearly you’re not! You’re acting like if going to hell is just a trip to the fucking supermarket!”

She had a point. She was calling him out for his defense mechanism. But he hated how she was making him face how afraid he really was. “And what am I supposed to do, Y/N?!” He raised his voice, “Am I just supposed to walk around being a pansy ass cry baby?!” He snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. “No, you’re supposed to let us help you!”

“Damn it, Y/N, I’m trying to protect you!” He barked out, his expression hardening. “I am the oldest, I know what’s best for everyone else!” He yelled, taking a step toward her. “Is that an order?” She challenged, clenching her jaw. She threw his words straight back in his face and boy, did it hurt like a motherfucker.

They were toe to toe, his expression now soft. She simply raised her chin defiantly, refusing to back down. He bit the inside of his cheek as his nostrils flared, “No, no it’s not.” His head dropped. He took a moment before raising his head back up to just look at her, realizing she wasn’t just mad. She was scared. Terrified of losing him, as he was with her. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face.

“I’m scared” he admitted softly, his voice cracking slightly, “I’m fucking terrified of what’s gonna happen” His shoulders slumped, no longer trying to mask his vulnerability as he brought a hand up to cup her face.

She stared up at him, her eyes locked on his. Shock glazed through her eyes at the fact that he just confessed. “It’s not fair” She repeated quietly, dropping the defiant tone as she reached out to lay a hand on his chest. “None of it’s fair”. Her voice and touch were now gentle, it was like a switch had gone off. Their argument now over, now replaced by a raw, vulnerable moment.

“No, sweetheart, it ain’t” he agreed with a sigh. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to control himself. He was trying his hardest not to cry in front of her. He swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat as he moved his hand from her cheek to hold her hand, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he spoke softly, his voice cracking as he held her hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Her eyes softened at the sight of him breaking his wall down. She felt her heart clench in her chest as he held her hand tightly in his grip like a lifeline. She knew he was trying to keep his emotions in check, to keep up his tough exterior, she knew him all too well.

She didn’t want to be fighting with him, she wanted to be holding him close, comforting him. So she snaked her arms around him, pulling him into her. Dean instantly buried his face in Y/N’s neck, finding comfort.

His body relaxed, sinking into her warm embrace. His face pressed into her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck gently. He inhaled her scent, grounding himself. He felt safe in her arms. Just the feel of her against him, the familiar coconut and tobacco scent filling his nostrils, it was enough to soothe his racing heart and the anxiety that loomed over him.

His tears began to fall freely, letting out gentle choked sobs into her neck. It tore her apart limb from limb to hear Dean’s muffled sobs, her arms tightening around him as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you”

She held him close, running a hand up and down his back in a soothing motion. Her eyes shut as she gently pressed her lips to the side of his head. Dean slowly peeled himself out from her neck, his eyes trained on her lips as she brought her hand up to cup his cheek, wiping a stray tear away with her thumb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he closed the remaining distance between them, gently connecting their lips. With one hand cupping her cheek and the other on her waist, he kissed her with a desperate need and tenderness.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in the short locks of his hair as she deepened the kiss, letting her own emotions and desire show through her actions. The taste of Dean’s salty tears coated her tongue but she didn’t care, she wanted to make him feel better. Their kiss was filled with a mix of passion and desperation, eliciting a light moan from her lips.

The moan was what did it for him. In a swift motion he picked her up. Y/N gasped from the sudden shift as he hoisted her with ease, her thighs residing on either side of his hips. His lips returned to hers. He walked backward until he lowered himself onto the bed, leaving Y/N straddling him.

He laid back on the mattress, his strong arms wrapping around Y/N's waist, pulling her closer. His hands roamed her back, tracing the curves of her spine before settling on her hips. He nipped at her bottom lip playfully, then soothed the sting with his tongue, deepening the kiss further.

Breaking away for a moment, he gazed up at her with heated eyes, "I need you" His voice was husky with desire. He nuzzled his nose against hers, breathing in her scent deeply before capturing her mouth once more in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over her curves, squeezing and caressing every inch he could reach.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, he looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, "Make love to me, baby" he breathed, his voice low and pleading. Y/N shivered at his words, her core clenching with need. She leaned down, her breasts brushing against his chest as she captured his lips in another passionate kiss. Her hands pushed off his leather jacket along with his flannel, eager to feel his skin against hers.

Breaking the kiss, she sat up and pulled his shirt open, revealing his chiseled torso. She ran her hands over his pecs, feeling the defined muscles beneath. "I need you too," she whispered, her hot breath fanning over his skin. She leaned down, her lips trailing kisses along his collarbone, her hands sliding lower to unbutton his pants.

As she worked to free him, she looked up at him through her lashes, her (e/c) eyes smoldering with lust. "Tell me what you want…tell me why you need” Dean groaned under her ministrations, his head falling back against the pillow as her lips trailed fire across his skin. His hands gripped her hips tighter, urging her on as she worked to free him from his jeans.

He panted heavily, his voice strained with desire when he finally managed to form words. "Stop being a fuckin’ tease, y/n/n." He hissed. His hips bucked slightly, seeking friction against her palm as she finally freed his straining erection.

Dean's eyes darkened with lust as he watched her lower her head towards his aching cock. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up slightly, seeking the contact he craved so desperately. When her warm, wet tongue made contact with the tip of his cock, he let out a guttural groan, his grip on her hair tightening. "Oh, shit...just like that," he praised, his voice rough with pleasure.

He rocked his hips in time with her movements, pushing deeper into her mouth with each stroke. The sensation of her lips and tongue working together was almost too much to bear, and he knew he wouldn't last long if she kept this up. "Baby, you're killing me here," he warned, his words coming out in ragged pants. "If you don't stop, I'm gonna cum right down your throat." He sounded utterly pathetic, and she loved it.

Dean's words sent a thrill through Y/N, knowing she had him right where she wanted him, on the edge and desperate for release. She doubled her efforts, taking him deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive head, lapping up the pre-cum that leaked from his tip.

"Mmmph," she hummed around his length, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. Her free hand slid down to cup his balls, gently rolling them in her palm. Dean threw his head back, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he fought to maintain control. Suddenly, she drew back, licking her lips as she peeled herself off of him.

Dean's hips jerked upwards, seeking her warmth as she released him from her mouth with a pop. He was left panting, his chest heaving with exertion as he stared down at her, his eyes wild with lust. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and desperation.

Her eyes flashed with a mischievous glint as she began deliberately stripping slowly, taking her sweet time. Y/N bit her lower lip, savoring the anticipation building between them as she teased him mercilessly. She took her time removing each article of clothing, letting the fabric slide sensually over her curves. First went her top, revealing the bra that barely contained her breasts. Next came her pants, pooling around her ankles to expose the lace panties that hugged her hips.

Her hands moved to the clasp of her bra, but instead of releasing it, she simply toyed with the mechanism, keeping herself just out of reach. She leaned in close, her breath hot against Dean's ear as she whispered, "You want these off? You gotta earn it, big boy."

With that, she straightened up and turned around, presenting her backside to him. She bent over slightly, giving him an enticing view of her ass clad in the delicate lace. Dean’s eyes instantly zoomed in on her anti possession sigil tramp stamp, his hand finding its way around his cock as she ran her thumbs along the edge of her panties.

Dean's gaze locked onto the tantalizing sight of her ass, his eyes drinking in every curve and dip, every perfect imperfection. He could see the intricate design of her tattoo, a constant reminder of the powerful woman he loved. His cock throbbed in his hand, pre-cum leaking from the tip as he imagined burying himself deep inside her.

He slowly began pumping himself, his lips parted while she pushed down her panties, finally allowing it to pool at her feet. Y/N stepped out of her discarded clothes, now fully nude from the waist down before Dean's hungry gaze. She turned around to meet his eyes, snatching his hand away from his cock, stopping his self pleasuring.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise as Y/N abruptly stopped his hand mid-stroke. He let out a soft whine as she removed his hand from his throbbing erection, his body craving her touch. He looked up at her with pleading eyes, his voice low and needy. "Please, baby..."

He tried to pull her closer, desperate to feel her bare skin against his own. But she held him at arm's length, a coy smile playing on her lips as she admired his state of arousal. "Patience, charming," she cooed before attaching her lips to his against, straddling him once more. In a swift motion, she grounded her wetness against him, eliciting a soft moan from herself.

As their tongues danced, she ground her hips against his hard length, coating him in her slick arousal. Dean's hands roamed her back, squeezing her ass as he pulled her flush against him, desperate for more contact.

Y/N broke the kiss, her chest heaving as she gazed down at him with hooded eyes. "Please” he whined. She smirked in response, heeding to his pleas as she reached between them, positioning his tip at her entrance before slowly sinking down, enveloping him in her tight heat inch by delicious inch until they were fully joined. They both let out a gasp at the exquisite sensation, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

Y/N began to move, rolling her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Dean's head fell back against the pillows as she sank down onto him, his eyes fluttering shut at the incredible feeling of being buried deep within her warmth. He could feel every inch of her, her walls gripping him tightly as she started to move.

"Oh, fuck yes..." he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she rode him. He couldn't get enough, his hips bucking up to meet her downward strokes, driving himself even deeper inside her.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, a sensual dance of pleasure and passion. Dean's mind went blank, focused solely on the feeling of Y/N above him, her breasts bouncing with each roll of her hips, her moans filling the room.

He reached up to cup one of her breasts, thumbing over the hardened nipple as he pulled her down to capture her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. Their tongues tangled, devouring each other. Y/N felt Dean's fingers dig into her hips, urging her on as she continued to ride him with increasing fervor. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breathing and moans of pleasure.

She broke the kiss, her chest heaving as she gazed down at Dean with lust-filled eyes. "You like that, baby?" she purred, grinding her clit against him with each downward stroke. "Tell me how good I feel..." Dean's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she rode him harder, her inner muscles clenching around his cock with each grind of her hips.

“Fuck, yeah," he gritted out, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel amazing, baby. So fucking tight and wet..." His hands slid down to grab her ass, kneading the firm flesh as he helped guide her movements. "Take what you need, princess. Use my cock however you want."

Dean's hips snapped up to meet hers, driving himself impossibly deeper as he chased his impending climax. "I'm getting close," he warned, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. "Don't stop, please..."

Y/N's pace became frantic, her nails digging into Dean's shoulders as she chased her own release. "Yes, yes, yes!" she chanted, her voice rising in pitch as she neared the edge. In a sudden motion, Dean tilted her to the side, flipping them over so that Y/N was pinned beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to thrust into her.

The change in angle allowed him to hit that sweet spot deep inside her with each stroke, sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of them. Y/N cried out, her back arching off the bed as Dean's new position sent her hurtling towards climax. Her legs tightened around him, heels digging into his ass as she urged him on. "Right there, Dean! Don't stop!"

With a feral growl, Dean pounded into her, driven by the urgent need to make her come apart beneath him. He could feel her walls starting to flutter, signaling her impending orgasm. He reached between them, using his middle and ring finger to tease her clit. "That's it, let go for me," he rasped, his own release looming on the horizon.

Y/N's entire body tensed, the added friction provided by Dean’s fingers sending jolts of ecstasy through her veins. With a wail, she shattered, her pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Her eyes flashed white for a brief moment before returning to normal, her vision blurring from the intensity of her climax. "Dean!" she screamed, her nails raking down his back as she rode out the aftershocks.

Dean threw his head back, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as Y/N's spasming walls triggered his own explosive release. He pumped into her frantically, burying himself to the hilt as jet after jet of hot cum flooded her pussy. "Fuck, Y/N!" he bellowed, his body trembling with the force of his release. He collapsed on top of her, still twitching inside her as they both struggled to catch their breaths.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Dean, holding him close as they both came down from their intense high. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair, nuzzling his cheek affectionately. "Mmm, I love you," she murmured, a satisfied smile curving her lips. After a moment, she carefully unwrapped her legs from around his waist, allowing him to slip free from her still-quivering pussy. She watched as a trickle of their combined fluids seeped out, trickling down her creases.

“We should clean up," she said softly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Dean lifted his head, meeting Y/N's gaze with a tender smile of his own. "I love you more, baby," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He carefully extracted himself from her body, groaning slightly at the loss of their intimate connection. Rolling to the side, he sat up and stretched, his muscles still humming with satisfaction.

He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers so she sat up with him. "But first... I think we've earned a little cuddle time." He tugged her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he nestled her against his side.

Y/N nodded, snuggling closer to Dean's warm embrace. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his abdomen, enjoying the feel of his skin under her touch. Y/N nodded, snuggling closer to Dean's warm embrace. She rested her head on his chest as he threw the blanket over them, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Her fingers traced idle patterns on his abdomen, enjoying the feel of his skin under her touch. Her eyes glanced over to food he brought early that was resting on the table and the large cookie on the nightstand. “So….about that food…”

____________________________________________

The next morning, the trio found themselves at the hospital again after finding out about another attack, one casualty and one survivor. They were decked out again in their suits and ties, pacing down the halls. The brothers walked side by side to Y/N. Her eye caught wind of a few deputies, yanking them both to the receptionist desk.

The brothers stumbled slightly at the abrupt force but composed themselves quickly, turning to conceal themselves. They were now casually leaning on the desk as the deputies walked by. Once the police were out of sight, they exchanged nods before proceeding back to the hospital room of the victim, Julie Watson. Sam kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure the cops didn’t suspect them.

Once they found the room, they came upon Dr. Garrison trying to aid a hysterical Julie, the blonde woman sobbing and pleading to leave. “Please, please” Julie pleaded, “Hey, shh, shh. We need to observe you. The drugs may be in your system” Dr. Garrison said gently, his hands on her shoulder.

The brothers shared a look as they watched the woman sobbing, Sam felt an instant pang in his heart for the woman. His first instinct was to approach her but Y/N held up a hand, telling him to stay back, a deep frown of pity on her face towards the grieving and traumatized woman. “I have to go, I have things to do. Arrangements I need to make”

“It can wait. Now you need to rest” Dr. Garrison insisted calmly. “Stay. I’ll be back in a few minutes” He advised her, turning to walk out of the room. His eyes connected with Y/N’s, a deep sigh escaping him. “Detectives” Dr. Garrison greeted the trio as he stuffed his hands into his coat pocket. “Dr. Garrison” Dean greeted back, his eyes shifting between the doctor and his patient. “What the hell’s going on here? My whole town’s going insane”

Dr. Garrison shook his head, his shoulders slumped forward, the exhaustion evident on his features. “We’ll let you know as soon as we do” Y/N replied kindly, offering the man a small tight smile. Her sympathy towards the doctor was clear as she responded, and Dr. Garrison returned a tired smile, rubbing a hand over his face, “I’m afraid my patient is becoming difficult. Can you help me talk to her please? Maybe as a female figure, she might respond to you”

“Course, anything to help” Y/N nodded firmly, Dr. Garrison seemed grateful before wordlessly stepping out of the room. Y/N and the boys then stepped in, cautiously approaching the distraught woman. Julie was trembling and looked like she was fighting a losing battle with her own emotions. She sniffled and wiped her tear-streaked face as she saw the three approach her. “Mrs. Watson? Hi” Dean greeted her, reaching into his jacket along with Sam and Y/N to pull out their badges.

“We just need to ask you a few questions,” He added. “Do we have to go over this again? Now?” Julie hiccupped. The brothers nodded, putting their badges away. “We’ll try to be brief” Sam assured her gently as Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, taking a hold of Julie’s hand in hers, while the boys remained standing behind her. “Mrs. Watson, can you tell us how you got away?”

Julie’s bottom lip quivered even more as fresh tears gathered in her eyes, “l didn’t eat as much as KEN did so I wasn’t as out of it” She began, letting out a shaky sigh as she looked from one hunter to the other. “And when the old woman was…” She hiccuped, glancing down at her hand in Y/N’s, her grip tightening around the psychic’s hand.

Y/N’s hand rubbed soothingly over her hand, her own heart clenching in her chest. “It’s okay, honey. Take your time.” Y/N urged her softly, Julie shut her eyes tightly, sucking in a deep breath as she tried to compose herself. “When the old woman was what?” Y/N prompted gently, placing a hand over Julie’s that was gripping her own.

“..when she was carving up Ken, I shoved her and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove” Julie finally forced out, another sob leaving her chest. The brothers exchanged a solemn look, Dean’s jaw clenched. “She’s dead, right? I killed her?”

They all exchanged solemn looks, Y/N turning to the Winchesters before nodding in confirmation to Julie’s question. “Do you have any idea why she would do this to you?” Dean questioned gently, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Julie shook her head frantically, her fingers digging into Y/N’s hand, “No. One minute, she’s just a sweet old lady and the next, she was like a monster” Dean furrowed his brow along with Y/N at Julie’s story.

“Can you remember anything else?” Sam butted in. “Um..yeah” Julie glanced down at her and Y/N’s hands again, sniffling. “Did you find a little girl there by any chance?” She asked them. “A little girl? At the house” Sam asked, looking between Dean and Y/N. They shared an equally confused expression, wondering where this was going.

“I thought I saw her outside the window. She- she just disappeared. Just..vanished into thin air” Julie informed them, taking her hand off of Y/N’s so she can wipe her nose. “Must’ve been the drugs” Y/N’s furrowed her brows at Julie’s words, her gaze flickered behind her, between the boys. They were all thinking the same thing. A spirit. A vengeful one.

“This disappearing girl, what did she look like?” Dean questioned. “Does it matter?” Julie asked. “Yes, every detail matters” Y/N insisted, nodding. Julie sighed before thinking back, “Um…she had this dark, dark hair and really pale skin. She was around 8” She made eye contact with Y/N, “She was a beautiful child. It was…of to see her in the middle of something so horrible” Julie began to sob into her hands again.

The trio shared another look, something akin to a plan forming in their minds. “Thank you for your time, Ma’am” Sam nodded to her kindly before looking towards Dean and Y/N to follow him out of the room, the three gathered in the hallway right outside.

____________________________________________

Now at the scene of the crime, they all changed out of their suits, in their usual outfits now. Sam scanned the house with the EMF meter while Y/N trailed her hands along the edge of a window still, a gaping hollow feeling filling her body. “Well, there’s no sulfur anywhere. How about the EMF?” Dean asked Sam from the kitchen. “There’s definitely some, but it’s faint” Sam answered.

Dean entered the room, his eyes roaming around, noting nothing suspicious at first sight. “Bring it over here” Y/N gestured with her hand, opening her eyes as she opened at the window still. Sam approached her, holding the EMF meter right next to the window. The meter began to screech loudly, beeping more rapid and frantic, the meter confirming the presence of a spirit. Dean chuckled to himself, “Gotta love that ESP” He smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows at Y/N.

She scowled playfully in return as Sam snickered, flipping them both off. "Eat a rag" she quipped before shutting her eyes again, trying to see if she could connect to anything. The brothers watch her, waiting for her to communicate with the spirit. But Y/N's face scrunched up, a frustrated sigh leaving her. "I can see her, I can get glimpses." She said, her eyes opening up again.

"Not enough to connect and get information?" Sam inquired. Y/N shook her head, her shoulders slumping defeatedly. “It’s most intense by the window, there was definitely a spirit here” She confirmed, pushing herself up to her feet before dusting her hands off. “So we’ve got the spirit of a little girl who stood outside the crime scene and watched?” Dean commented, Sam and Y/N shrugged in return, “Looks like” Sam said as he shut the EMF meter off.

“What the fuck do you make of that?” Dean asked, Sam and Y/N shared a look, having had a conversation about the crimes when Dean was taking forever in the bathroom at the motel. “Actually, we do have a theory. Uh- sorta” Sam responded as he rubbed the back of his neck. Dean’s brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "Hit me" He was intrigued, arms crossing his chests as he rocked back on his heels. “Well, we’re thinking about fairytales” Y/N began.

Dean’s head shot up, “Oh, that’s- That’s nice” Dean snorted, placing his hands on his hips. “You two think about fairytales all the time?” He teased them. “No, charming, not like that” Y/N sighed, Sam rolling his eyes at Dean, he knew his brother would not make the case easier. “Dean, we’re talking about the murders” Sam answered for her, taking over.

“A guy and a girl hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat ‘em. That’s Hansel and Gretel. And then we got three brothers arguing over how to build houses and then attacked by the big bad wolf” Sam explained as he picked up his jacket from the couch. Dean’s face took a moment to process these words Sam had just spoken before the realization dawned on him, “Three little pigs?”

“Yeah” Y/N nodded as she put on her own jacket after taking it from Dean’s extended hand. “Actually, those guys were a little chubby,” Dean commented with amusement. “Not the point, smartass” Y/N playfully flicked the bottom of his chin in retaliation to his sass. Dean smirked mischievously, raising an eyebrow at her.

Sam’s eyes flickered between them, shaking his head. “Oh, wait. I thought those things ended with everybody living happily ever after?” Dean asked as he padded over to the window still, peeling the curtain back slightly. "No, no, not the originals" Y/N corrected him as she too headed to the table, picking up Dean’s duffel bag to sling it over her shoulder, Sam nodded in agreement as he pulled his phone out from his pocket after it vibrated.

“See, the Grimm brothers’ stuff was kind of like folklore of its day. Full of sex, violence, cannibalism” She explained. "Yeah, and then it got sanitized over the years, turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories” Sam chimed in as he responded to his girlfriend's text message before stuffing the phone into his pocket and stuffing his jacket on. Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, letting the curtain fall back into place turning around to face them once again.

“So you think the murders are, uh, what’s a reenactment? That’s a little crazy” Dean said, tilting his head at them as Y/N placed her foot up on the table to tie her laces. “Crazy as what? Everyday of our lives?” Y/N shot back, Sam snorted in agreement. Dean chuckled lightly and shook his head at them. "Touché" he conceded. "How’s a creepy ghost girl involved?" He voiced his thoughts aloud.

Sam frowned as he zipped his bag up on the table, “Um, well, she must’ve been here for a reason. I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too” he said, Dean internally groaned, looking between his brother and girlfriend. “We gotta do research now, don’t we?” Y/N looked up from tying her shoelace to playfully smirk at Dean.

“You say that like it's a bad thing" she teased, Sam holding back his chuckle, earning a glare from Dean. “Nerds,” Dean scoffed, taking the duffel bag from her as she placed her foot back onto the ground. Y/N rolled her eyes at Dean's comment, her hands finding her hips. "Excuse me, who's been reading romance novels all week?” She shot back, Sam bursted out laughing at the revelation.

Dean pointed a finger at her, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face. "That is a low blow" he defended weakly with a grumble, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Sam continued to laugh. “Burn!” The younger Winchester exclaimed between laughs, lifting his hand up to high-five Y/N.

Y/N gladly high-fived Sam, both of them chuckling at Dean's expense as he grabbed his keys, glaring at the pair but there was no real heat behind it. "Yeah, yeah, it up, chuckleheads” he grumbled, Y/N playfully pouted as she wrapped her arm around her boyfriend’s waist, the three now leaving the crime scene.

-

Hours later, Dean shoved the door open to the Cumberland County Central Library as Sam and Y/N waited outside. Upon seeing him, they both perked up. “So?” They asked expectantly in unison as Y/N flicked her burnt out cigarette bud into the trash can. “Checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size” He began, the two trailing behind him.

“Okay” Y/N mumbled, stuffing her hands into her leather jacket’s pocket. “Know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?” Sam and Y/N recognized that tone, “Zero” They answered in unison as Dean nodded in confirmation. “You wanna know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? -Right again: Zip, zilch, nada”

Sam and Y/N shared a look, a bit discouraged at that piece of information. "Tell me you’ve got something good because I’ve totally wasted the last six hours” Dean complained as they walked across the street and into a woodsy area. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s” Y/N asked him. “She got a thing for fairytales?”

They chuckled in amusement, “No, trances” Sam informed him, “See, she would go into these unconscious states where, um. Get this: her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits” He explained, “The ghost Puppet Master” Dean pursed his lips, “Yeah” Y/N nodded, “Think that’s what this kid is doing? Sending Wolfboy and Grandma into trances, making them go kill crazy?”

“Could be” Sam shrugged, “It could be kind of like a spirit hypnosis or something” Y/N suggested, all continuing down the trail. “Look, trances I get, but fairy-tale trances? That’s bizarre even for us” Dean shook his head. They all came to a halt in their steps when they heard a frog croaking, their heads simultaneously lowering to the ground to see a toad.

Dean scrunched his nose at the sight of the little creature, the toad ribbitted loudly at him. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s completely normal.” Sam deadpanned with sarcasm, as Y/N shot Dean the classic Winchester bitchface in her own form, her hands resting in her hips.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally fucked-up fairy tales” Dean responded in defeat, tilting his head at the frog. “I’ll tell you one thing though, there’s no way I’m kissing a damn frog” Y/N gave him a cheeky smile, her eyes playful. "Not even a little peck?" She teased. Dean made a face at the suggestion, but a smirk was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes and mumbling under his breath. "Please don't encourage him," he implored.

The couple chuckled as Y/N eyes flickered across the street, her eyes catching a pumpkin that was sitting on the porch of a house. “Hey, fellas. Check that out” She pointed to the pumpkin. Dean and Sam’s eyes followed the direction where she was pointing to, curious. “Yeah? It’s close to Halloween” Dean asked with his eyebrow raised.

Sam caught on, shaking his head. “You remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach and the nice that become horses” Sam told him as a mouse ran across the porch. Dean’s eyes held horror, his head slowly peering over to the duo. “Dude, could you two be more pansies?” Y/N rolled her eyes at him, her hand finding her hip once more.

“Could you be less of a jackass?” She retorted, not missing a beat. Sam chuckled beside her, earning a playful glare from Dean. Dean put his hands up in surrender. "Just saying," he said with a shrug, "We got a possible Three Little Pigs scene, a Hansel and Gretel case, and now we've got a Cinderella deal" Y/N added, her fingers curling into the sleeves of her jacket.

"Next we're gonna have Snow fuckin’ White" Dean mumbled, causing both of them to chuckle.

-

After picking the lock to the house, Y/N rose from her knees, allowing Dean to stretch next to her and open the door. The trio peered in simultaneously, their eyes darting around the eerily quiet house, “Well who knows, maybe you’ll find your fairy godmother” Dean mused, chuckling as he smiled widely at Y/N and Sam. The duo side eyed the elder Winchester, choosing to ignore his comment as they stepped into the house.

The three fanned out, cautiously peering around every corner to search the place. The sound of a creaking in the house caused them to look at each other with suspicion. All pulling out their guns from their jackets in perfect unison. "This is the beginning to a bad, low budget horror movie" Sam mumbled, his eyes flickering around the seemingly empty house.

Y/N bit back a chuckle, but couldn't help the slight smirk forming on her lips at the comment. "Yeah, or an episode of Scooby-Doo" She chimed in. Dean let out an amused scoff. Another sound of clatter drew their attention to the kitchen, Dean jerked his head towards it. Pointing firmly, “Help, I’m in here” The sound of a woman’s terrified voice garnered their attention.

The three of them made their way to the kitchen, guns raised once again, the young woman coming into their view. She was battered, bruised and cuffed to a drawer handle, Sam and Y/N immediately dropped to the floor, the huntress digging into her hair to take out her pin. “Hey, hey. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Sam assured the beaten girl, “You have to help me, she’s a lunatic” The girl sobbed as Y/N began picking the lock to her handcuffs. “What happened, sweetie?” She asked her gently.

“My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me, chained me up” The young woman croaked, tears running down her battered face. “Where is she now?” Dean asked firmly, he could’ve sworn he saw a little girl peering from the other room at the corner of his eye. “I don’t know” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed together, her hand still working on the cuffs. "Sam. Y/N” Dean kept his eyes on the little girl, indicating to Sam and Y/N of her appearance.

The trio’s eyes widened, “That’s her” Y/N informed them, recognizing the girl from her visions back at the house. Dean nodded before pushing himself up, following behind the girl. The little girl seemed to float away, Dean’s feet quickening their pace after her. “Hey!” He called, reaching out his hand to try to grab her but he fell straight through her. “Dammit” He cursed to himself, sprinting after her once more, only to get the same outcome.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard the floor boards creaking behind him, spinning around to meet eyes with the little girl. Her red hair hand placed neatly at the top of her head, pulling back her dark hair. Her white flowy dress made her seem more eerily, “Who are you?” Dean asked calmly but the little girl didn’t answer. Her blue eyes pierced his green ones with intensity, fear and almost desperation.

Her spirit simply flickered, leaving a bright red apple on the floor in her place. Dean’s expression twisted in confusion and suspicion as the little girl vanished. He knelt down to pick it up, examining it in his hand.

Sam and Y/N were too busy with the girl in the kitchen to notice that Dean had wandered off, their attention solely focused on the abused young woman.

-

“Paramedics picked up Cinderella” Sam told his brother as he and Y/N reapproached the Impala, Dean was still leaning against the hood, his gaze trapped on the Apple in his hand. “That’s good” He sighed in response, before tossing the apple for Y/N to catch. “So little girl, shiny red apple. I’m guessing that means something to you, fairytale boy and girl” Dean half-joked.

Y/N’s hand caught the apple, her eyebrows furrowing together in thought, "We think it’s Snow White." she said, looking over to Sam, "You remember? The wicked queen gave Snow White a poisoned, red apple?" Her fingers gripped the fruit in her hand and she leaned against the Impala, right next to Dean. Dean nodded, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Snow White? Aw, i saw that movie” He responded, “Well, the porn version anyways” He smirked as a disgusted look appeared on the younger Winchester’s face and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dean pushed himself up from the Impala, opening the passenger side for Y/N as he spoke, “There was this wicked stepmother, phew. She was wicked” He said skittishly as he made his way over to the driver's side door.

Sam ignored his comment, bracing his arms at the top of the Impala at the back right side. “There is a wicked stepmother and she tries to kill Snow White with a poisoned apple.” He informed his older brother as Y/N tossed him the apple. Sam caught the apple, his fingers curling around the fruit’s surface. "And then the step-mom disguises herself as an old woman and offers Snow White the poison apple." He added, eyeing the red fruit with intrigue.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam, "But the Apple doesn’t actually kill the girl, right?” Y/N shook her head at Dean’s question. “Nope, puts her into a deep sleep. So deep it’s almost like she’s dead" Y/N responded, “See, I knew you remembered” She half-joked. Dean rolled his eyes, but a smirk managed to find its way on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, whatever" He replied as they all hopped into the Impala.

____________________________________________

Now back at the hospital, “No, sorry. We don’t have any comatose little girls” The receptionist informed them, “Are you sure?” Sam asked as Y/N frowned. “Totally. It’s mostly old guys” The receptionist assured them, “And, well, Callie. She’s been around since before I started here” she added, earning intrigued looks from the trio. “Callie?” Dean asked, “Yeah, it’s so sad” The receptionist said sympathetically.

“And poor Dr. Garrison, he just won’t give up on her” This made Y/N cross her arms over her chest. “Was Callie one of his patients?” She asked, curiously. “No, his daughter” The receptionist told them, they all shared looks that said, ‘Worth a shot’ before thanking her and excusing themselves.

-

They found themselves in Callie’s hospital room where Dr. Garrison was reading a fully grown and comatose Callie ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ from ‘The Brothers Grimm’ Book. “The huntsman stepped inside and in the bed lay the wolf. So the huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the wolf's belly” Dr. Garrison read. The trio shared looks of horror as the doctor’s eyes flickered up to them.

He closed the book before laying the cloth bookmark in its place, taking off his glasses. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead before making his way over to the three, clearing his throat. “Detectives, can I help you?” Dr. Harrison greeted them politely. “We just heard that Callie is your daughter” Dean began, “And we wanted to say how very sorry we are” Sam added sympathetically.

Dr. Garrison rubbed his eye in frustration, his expression weary as he nodded in acknowledgment, “Well, um, thank you” He breathed, a beat of silence stretching between them before he spoke once more, “If you’ll excuse me” He attempted to make his exit, passing through the space between Dean and Y/N. Dean stepped out of the way for the doctor, his gaze watching the dejected man walk away, an expression of pity on his face.

“Oh, well we’re headed this way, we’ll walk with you” Y/N said casually as they all walked beside the doctor. “How long has Callie been like that?” she asked, trying to keep a tone of sincerity so she didn’t sound too nosey. Sam shot her a look, since her tone didn’t help much and indeed did sound nosey as hell. “We don’t mean to intrude, we can’t possibly know how hard it must be for you seeing her like this” Sam assured Dr. Garrison.

Dr. Garrison gave Sam another nod of appreciation before turning to Dean, “Yeah, it’s not easy” Dr. Garrison sighed, his back turned to Sam and Y/N. The younger Winchester took the opportunity to give his Y/N a smack to the back of the head along with a look that said, ‘Really, dude? Really?’

Y/N let out a silent hiss of pain, rubbing the spot where Sam had smacked her, “Dipshit” She muttered under her breath, a small pout forming on her lips. Dean suppressed the urge to laugh. “She’s, uh, been here since she was 8 years old” Dr. Garrison told them as they began walking again, “That’s when she was poisoned?” Sam asked, “Yes, swallowed bleach,” Dr. Garrison confirmed. “Never figure out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, brought her to the ER. Here, I was on call”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, his demeanor becoming more serious. Sam and Y/N took a moment to process the information, “Your wife was, uh-? Was that Callie’s stepmother?” Dean asked, Dr. Garrison’s eyes glanced over to Dean with surprise, stopping in his tracks. Everyone came to a halt as the doctor’s eyes flickered between them all, “Actually, yes. How’d you know that?”

“Lucky guess” Y/N came to Dean’s rescue, Dr. Garrison nodded hesitantly, seemingly taking the bait. “Julie was the only mother that, uh, Callie ever knew” Dr. Garrison’s tone was solemn as he stuck his hands into his labcoat’s pockets. Sam and Y/N narrowed their eyes, sharing a look as they mentally put two and two together. “My wife passed away last year and, uh…it’s just my daughter and me now” Dr. Garrison’s voice broke as though he was holding back tears. “She’s all I got left”

A sympathy coursed through Y/N and Sam's veins and Dean's eyes softened a bit. Dr. Garrison cleared his throat, “Um, excuse me, I’ve gotta get back to work” Dr. Garrison excused himself, checking his watch. The trio of hunters watched as Dr. Garrison walked away, heading back towards Callie’s room, “Well, you guys were right. It’s Snow White in spades” Dean said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. They all turned on their heels, headed in the other direction.

“Yup. Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep.” Sam nodded in agreement. “What’s the motive, you think?” Y/N chimed in between them. “Could he like Mischa Barton, Sixth Sense. Not the O.C” Dean shrugged. “What?” Sam asked, beyond confused. “Hey, we know fairytales, he knows movies” Y/N snorted, nudging her boyfriend to continue explaining. He shot her a sly wink in return, “She played the pasty ghost. You know, remember the mom had that thing where you know, uh, you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Uh…” Sam nodded in recognition, “Münchausen syndrome by proxy. Huh, could be” He agreed, “So say all these years, Callie’s been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what Mommy Dearest did” Y/N began, “And after all this time, her spirit just gets angrier and angrier until it finally just starts lashing out” Sam added as they reached the building’s paramedic entrance. “Meanwhile, she has to listen to Dad tell her all these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady, it’s enough to drive anybody nuts” Dean chimed in.

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her? I mean, Callie’s stuck here. Her father’s keeping her body alive” Y/N questioned out loud. “It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones” Dean muttered, “Ya think?” Sam shot back sarcastically. “Coming in” a paramedic’s voice boomed through the sliding door as two EMTs wheeled in a gurney with an old woman’s feeble and beaten body on it. “Hey, what’s the status?” A doctor asked urgently as the three watched on.

“Seventy-two-year-old female. Sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is 80/40 and falling. Sinus tachycardia” The EMT informed them as the three followed behind them at a distance to hear what they were saying, “is that a…bite?” A doctor gasped, checking the side of the elderly woman’s blood soaked wrinkly neck. “Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or maybe a wolf” The EMT suggested.

Dean instantly recognized it, “What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” He asked Sam and Y/N. “Little Red Riding Hood” They responded in unison, sharing wide eyed looks in realization. Their hearts pummeled when the elder woman’s pulse dropped, the doctor declaring the time of death in the process.

-

“Excuse me.” They all approached the paramedic who wheeled the old woman in after a few minutes when he was making his report of the death, flashing him their fake badges. “Was she the only victim?” Y/N asked as they pocketed their badges, “she was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone” The EMT sighed, “We need to find her next of kin” Dean said urgently, the EMT nodded, flipping through the file in his hands. “Uh, she has a granddaughter” he informed them

“Do you have an address?” Y/N asked quickly, the EMT gave it to her without hesitation. She instantly snatched it away from him, “Thank you” she said gratefully as Dean peered over her shoulder, following behind her. “Thanks” Sam thanked the EMT. Dean took the paper from Y/N’s hand, “Okay, you guys find a way to stop Callie, alright?” He gently ordered them, “What about you?” Sam asked, furrowing his brows, “I’m gonna go stop the big bad wolf” He said firmly, earning a raised brow from his girlfriend and brother.

“Which is about the weirdest thing I’ve ever said” he scoffed, “No it ain’t” Y/N smirked, a glint of worry in her eyes. Dean noticed the look of concern in her facial features as they all stood together. “Be safe,” she said seriously. A charming smile made its way onto Dean’s lips, his green eyes flickering over to her, “Ditto” he responded as he watched her roll her eyes at his typical response. He leaned down to press his lips to hers. Sam averted his gaze, giving them privacy for a moment, suddenly finding the coat rack at the corner of the hallway interesting.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Dean’s lips touched hers, their kiss sweet and brief. Dean pulled away, his eyes locked on Y/N’s, “I love you” he whispered against her lips. Her eyes reopened, a tender expression on her face as she looked into his eyes, “Ditto” Y/N murmured back, a subtle smile on her lips. Dean gave her one last lingering glance before forcing himself to pull away from her and head out the automatic hospital doors.

-

It had been about 15 minutes since Dean left, Sam and Y/N had been looking for Dr. Garrison since. Finally stumbling upon him in the east wing, the two hunters began jogging towards him. “Dr. Garrison, we need to speak with you” Sam said urgently. Dr. Garrison turned as they both approached him, a tired expression on his face. “Yes, detectives, what can I do for you this time?” He inquired, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam and Y/N shared a nervous glance, “Well, um….It’s about Callie” Y/N said cautiously, fiddling with her thumbs as she interlocked her hands. Dr. Garrison's tired expression turned to one of concern, "My daughter? What about her?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he took off his reading glasses.

“You know, maybe- maybe we could sit down for a minute” Sam suggested calmly, shoving his hands into his pockets to ease his nerves. “No, what about her?” Dr. Garrison insisted firmly. Y/N took a shaky breath, the anxiety in the air was tangible. Sam and Y/N shared another look, both knowing the information was going to hit Dr. Garrison like a ton of bricks. “Okay, well, um- doctor, this isn’t gonna be easy” Sam began. “But…what happened to Callie was not an accident”

“Excuse me?” The doctor scoffed, his face contorting with confusion and unease. “We’re sorry, but it’s true” Y/N tried to convince him gently, placing a hand up in surrender. “You two have no idea what happened to my daughter” With that, he began walking away but Sam and Y/N followed behind.

“There are things you don’t know, doctor- about your wife” Sam stated as they kept on walking behind him, “My wife?” Garrison scoffed, padding faster, “Doctor, your wife poisoned Callie” Y/N finally said, this made the doctor spin around and the two hunters to stop in their tracks. Garrison's face was filled with shock, anger and pain all at once, “Why would you say something so horrible to me?” he asked vehemently, his voice beginning to crack.

Y/N felt her heart drop in her chest but he needed to hear it, is what she convinced herself. “Because we need your help” Sam pleaded, “You two stay away from me and my daughter, you understand?” He pointed firmly at them before heading into Callie’s room. Their faces dropped, “Doctor, this isn’t- Please, if-“ But the door slammed in their faces. “Fuck” Y/N cursed as she stared at the closed door for a few moments.

A hand came up to rest on her shoulder, she looked up to find that it was Sam’s. “What do we do now?” he inquired, removing his hand and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. Y/N gave him a look that Sam immediately recognized, “Y/N/N, no-” She had already opened the door to Callie’s room, “Guess we’re doing it” Sam mumbled as Dr. Garrison’s head snapped up from his comatose daughter, his eyes hardening as Y/N trudged in with determination as Sam followed behind her.

“I’m calling security” Dr. Garrison spat, pointing a finger at the psychic, looking from the comatose teenager then back at them. He immediately headed for the phone but Sam quickly snatched it from his hands, causing him to flinch, “No, we don’t have time to do this gently” Y/N retorted firmly as if she was scolding a child, “If you don’t listen to us, more people are gonna get hurt. Because Callie is gonna hurt them” Sam added, matching Y/N’s tone.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dr. Garrison said in defiance, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re going to think we’re crazy but just understand us….Your daughter, Callie, is still here. She’s a spirit” Y/N explained. Dr. Garrison’s eyes dropped to the floor before shifting over to his daughter. He slowly made his way to her bed before sitting at the feet of the hospital bed, a look of despair on his face. “So you’ve seen her too?”

Sam and Y/N stood rooted to the floor for a handful of moments, eyes widened at the surprise of the question. Y/N cleared her throat, “You see her, too?” She asked cautiously as they inched closer to the father. Garrison nodded as his fingers found Callie’s hand on top of the bed comforter. “I’ve sensed her. Callie.” He began as he pushed himself up from her bed, “Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed, but I never…” He blinked rapidly.

“…believed it. I thought I was dreaming- I-” his breathing increased. “It wasn’t a dream” Sam cut him off, burying his hands into his pockets as Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “She looks like she did when she was 8. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair…she’s been trying to talk to you” Y/N said softly. The room filled with silence for a few moments as the doctor tried to process this new information- that he had been actually seeing his daughter.

He shook his head with a gentle scoff, “You’re not cops, are you?” He questioned, “No” Sam and Y/N answering in unison, both glancing down at Callie on the bed. “Then who are you?” They shared a look. “People who know a little bit about this kind of thing,” Sam answered hesitantly. “But what you said about my wife poisoning Callie, that-” Garrison tried to defend, “Sir. Callie told us” Y/N cut him off.

“What?” Garrison bit back. “But in so many words. But in her own way…she told us” Sam responded calmly as Dr. Garrison shook his head frantically. “My wife loved Callie! So how i- how is that possible?” Sam sighed deeply, “We don’t know, but it is” He said firmly. “It doesn’t make sense, we know. And I’m so, so sorry” Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper as the doctor’s gaze lowered back to the girl on the bed.

“No. No, I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t-“ Garrison couldn’t finish the sentence as Y/N and Sam both felt their hearts ache for a father trying to deny his wife doing such a thing. “Look, Callie is killing people. She’s angry, she’s desperate because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her” Sam insisted, pleading with Garrison, “Please….as her father…listen to your daughter.” Y/N said softly, extending her hand out towards the doctor.

Garrison stood there, frozen, as the two hunters stared hopefully at him, anticipating his answer. A moment of silence seemed to be an hour before the doctor broke it, “What- what do you need me to do?” His voice cracked, “I can help you, take my hand and I can sorta anchor you to see her” Y/N explained, Garrison glanced down at her outstretched hand, his hand slowly lifting to reach out.

Once he placed his palm in hers, Y/N guided him over to Callie’s bed, placing her free palm onto the crown of Callie’s head. “Don’t freak out” She closed her eyes, focusing her energy on connecting him to his daughter. Garrison began to feel a strong, yet gentle energy flow through his body, he looked panicked for a second before Y/N gently reassured him, “It’s okay, relax” Her eyes stayed close tightly but her hand stayed on Callie’s head.

“Call out to her” Y/N instructed, reopening her eyes, which shone white and the veins in both her arms ignited its usual blue light. Sam watched on in awe, the sight familiar but still so fascinating to him. Garrison nodded and shifted his gaze to his daughter, “Callie.” He called out tenderly, his heart swelling at the sound of her name rolling off of his tongue. “Callie, it’s Daddy, it’s me, Daddy” he breathed heavily as his hand tightened around Y/N’s.

His breath shuddered, “Is it true? Did Mommy do that to you?” The doctor began crying, using his free hand to place it on his daughter’s. Not letting go of Y/N’s. “I know I wasn’t listening before, but I’m listening now” Suddenly, there was a change to the room, the air felt lighter, like a presence was watching. Sam saw her at the corner of the room and Y/N felt her presence.

“Daddy’s here. Please honey, is there any way you can tell me?” Garrison pleaded with his daughter’s comatose body. “Doctor. Y/N” Sam’s voice broke through, their heads turned to him as he nodded to the corner of the room. Garrison spun around, his eyes landing on the spirit of his 8-year old daughter. Her white dress was radiant, her red ribbon tied perfectly in her hair, a sad smile gracing her lips.

Garrison’s hand slipped from Y/N’s, her veins and eyes reverting back to its usual color. “Is it true?” He asked his daughter, trying to keep his voice from falling. Callie’s spirit simply nodded as Y/N took her hand off of the crown of her comatose body’s head. Garrison’s knees wobbled, but he kept to his feet. He shook slightly, “Why did she….” His voice trailed off, he gulped hard as he kept his gaze focused on his daughter.

“Why did Mommy do this?” Callie’s expression saddened, her smile faltering as her dad pleaded for answers. Her little spirit lifted her hand up as if to point at someone, her father’s head spun to a picture above the bed. The photo of his wife and daughter, smiling and happy in a park. Sam and Y/N frowned deeply upon seeing the heartbroken look on Garrison’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby”

“But listen to me, you gotta stop what you’re doing, okay? You’re hurting people.” He pleaded with his daughter as he leaned forward, “I know everything now….I know the truth” His breathing shuddered again as Callie’s stare pierced into his soul, “It’s time for you to let go…..it’s time for me to let you go”

Y/N felt a sudden pain in her chest, it ached and made her breath hitch. She had seen the look on a parent’s face before, saying those words to their child, but she never thought that she’d see it happening in front of her. Garrison wiped his face, his mouth quivering as he tried to hold in his sobs. Her eyes connected with Sam’s, who wore a mirrored expression to hers as Dr. Harrison padded over to his daughter’s bed. He leaned down and placed a tearful kiss on her forehead.

Almost immediately, the EKG flatlined. The long solemn beep filling the room with dread, Sam and Y/N both watched on, holding back tears as the father pressed his face to his comatose daughter’s shoulder. His shoulders started to shake violently as he cried into her shoulder, his own hands coming up to clutch the edges of the thin hospital blanket.

Garrison spun around to face the direction his daughter’s spirit was, her image now gone as the heavy feeling on Y/N’s chest finally rolled off. Her body slumped as the air returned to her lungs, she felt a large hand on her back, steadying her. “She’s gone” Sam softly whispered, rubbing her back gently. “Yeah…she’s gone” Y/N repeated shakily, nodding her head slightly. The pair both stared at the weeping man clutching his deceased daughter’s body, the sound of his desperate sobs echoing through the room.

____________________________________________

Now in the reception area, Dean had made it back to the hospital after saving the little girl who had been kidnapped from her captive, once Callie passed, the trance she had her victims in broke. “And the girl’s okay?” Dr. Garrison asked Dean, who nodded in return. He was a bit beat up from the fight with the little girl’s capture but he’d live….for now, “So, it’s really over” Garrison sighed deeply.

“Yeah, all thanks to you” Sam responded. Garrison’s lips turned into a slight smile, “Callie was the most important thing in my life….but I should’ve let her go a long time ago” He admitted, “See you around, doc” Dean offered the doctor a half smile, “I sure hope not” Garrison responded with a half-joke before patting Dean on his shoulder and making his exit.

Y/N’s hand found Dean’s, her fingers intertwining with his as she felt a slight sting in her eyes. The events of the day took a toll on her, her energy was drained, she was tired and sad. Seeing a father lose his daughter was not something she wanted to be used too. “You know, what he said….that’s some good advice” Dean’s voice broke the silence.

Y/N raised a brow at her boyfriend’s insinuation as Sam scoffed, “Is that what you want us to do, Dean? Just let you go?” Dean didn’t dare to look either of them in the eye. With a scoff, Y/N pulled away from Dean, staring directly at him as he looked away, “Stop” She huffed in frustration, she was exhausted and definitely not in the mood to deal with his self-pity.

Dean’s eyes met with Y/N’s and then Sam’s. The trio didn’t say a word, so Dean simply trudged off, making his way to the exit of the hospital. Y/N’s jaw locked, eyes narrowing in irritation as she watched him walk away. She looked over at Sam, he met her gaze, as they both understood what the other was thinking. They both followed after Dean, walking at a brisk pace to catch up to his brisk form.

____________________________________________

Later that night, it was nearing midnight. Dean was swaddled into Y/N’s arms. His head nestled into the space where her neck and shoulder meet, his nose burying itself into the crook of her neck. Her eyes were shut, her breathing was low and steady, he could tell she was fast asleep by the way her body felt limp against his.

So she took the opportunity, gently prying herself away from him. Her movement was careful as she peeled herself away from his warmth, he stirred slightly. She froze in her spot but Dean fell back asleep, his arm over her spot in the bed. Y/N let out a breath of relief as she pulled the blanket up further to cover his naked form.

With as little noise as possible, she shoved her clothes onto her body and placed a kiss to his temple. A look of despair was on her face as she tiptoed over to his bag, retrieving the Colt. Y/N sighed to herself, her eyes on Dean’s sleeping form.

“I love you, charming”

With that and one last look at the man she loves over her shoulder, she walked cautiously to the door and quietly opened it before exiting. The hallway was dark but it was easy to spot Sam, he stood there in his usual clothes, already awaiting her. Y/N made her way over to him, closing the door behind her.

“Ready?” She asked as she came to stand next to him, her voice was low and hushed. Sam nodded at her, his lips thinning in determination, “Yeah” He responded, his hands shoved into his pockets. Y/N offered him a small smile, holding up the keys to the Impala she snaked from Dean’s bag before the pair started walking down the hall.

-

Sam knelt in the middle of a crossroads, a wooden box and its needed contents in one hand and a fake ID in his other. He took a deep breath, glancing up with Y/N who held the Colt firmly in her hand. The crossroads was dark but Y/N could make out the sound of crickets in the distant cornfield behind them and smell the rich earthy scent of dirt. She stood beside Sam, her nerves on high alert as he shut the box and stuck it into the hole. Using his hands to toss the gravel onto it, burying it into the hole.

Her ears strained to sense any sudden movement around her. Y/N’s free hand went to the bottom of the shirt she had borrowed from the man sleeping in the motel as she subconsciously gripped the white material tightly. Sam dusted his hands, sighing heavily as he stood up, their eyes darting to every corner of the crossroad. Suddenly, that burning feeling at the back of Y/N’s neck made her head snap in the direction of the present demon.

“Well, little Sammy Winchester and Y/N/N L/N. I’m touched” The female crossroad demon announced her presence, her eyes flashing red at the duo. Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, hiding it behind her back. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to get a better look, “I mean, Dean’s been to see me twice but you two…” The crossroad demon chuckled, “I’ve never had the pleasure”

Sam’s gaze hardened with hatred directed to the crossroad demon who bore the contract to his brother’s soul. “What can I do for you Sam and Y/N?” The demon asked with a smirk as Y/N gritted her teeth, she made eye contact with Sam who nodded in agreement. Without hesitation, she raised the Colt, pointing it straight to the demon’s forehead. “You can beg for your life” Y/N quipped cockily.

The demon raised her hands in submission, her smirk never leaving her lips. “We were having such a nice conversation. Then you had to go and ruin the mood.” The demon purred, her eyes flickering from the barrel of the gun to Y/N’s face. “If I were you, I’d drop the wisecracks and start acting scared” Sam snapped back. The demon scoffed cockily, shaking her brunette head, “It's not my style” her eyes went back to the gun and over to the duo, “And that’s not the original Colt” she pointed out, smirking at them.

Y/N’s mouth formed a firm line as she and Sam’s confidence faltered. “Where did you get that?” She questioned as Y/N kept her weapon pointed at the demon. The two didn’t answer and their silence alone answered the question for them, “Ruby. Had to be” The demon shook her head, “She is such a pain in my ass” she scoffed as Sam and Y/N kept their narrowed eyes on her. “She’ll get what’s coming to her. You can count on it”

“That’s enough.” Y/N interrupted with pure venom in her tone, “We came here to make you an offer” The psychic stated, causing the demon to chuckle humorlessly. “You two are gonna make me an offer? That’s adorable” Y/N’s jaw locked as she inhaled deeply through her nose, “It’s in your best interest to hear us out” She replied evenly as Sam gave her a look from the corner of his eye, keeping his mouth shut.

The demon scoffed cockily once more but her confidence wavered, “Well then, let’s hear your offer” as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You can let Dean out of his deal right now.” Sam began, tilting his head as he shoved his hands into his pocket, “He lives, Y/N lives, I live, you live. Everyone goes home happy. Or…” Y/N cocked the gun, challenging the demon. “My sister is gonna put a bullet into your head, and you stop breathing. Permanently.”

The demon stared down the business end of the gun again, the smirk now slipping off her lips. “Well, that’s a tempting offer” She replied sarcastically. However, the duo caught the small look of hesitation etched on her face for a brief moment. “All this tough talk, I have to tell you, it’s not very convincing” She began walking around them but they circled in return, Y/N keeping the Colt aimed at the demon.

“I mean, come on guys. Do you even want to break the deal?” She chuckled, her back facing them, “What do you think?” Y/N spat, gritting her teeth again, a bad habit she couldn’t seem to break whenever she was angry. “I don’t know. Aren’t you tired of cleaning up Dean’s messes, Sam? And Y/N, aren’t you tired of dealing with that broken psyche of his?”

Y/N’s knuckles turned white, her grip on the gun tightening as she swallowed dryly, “Aren’t you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother?” The demon taunted Sam before turning to Y/N. “And you,” she paused, her eyes meeting with Y/N’s wide angry ones.

“You’re fed up with being his caretaker, aren’t you? Making him soup when he’s sick, listening to his problems, putting his broken pieces back together. Yet he still treats you no better than your daddy did. Like a weak, broken, immature little girl. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” The demon said with a look of mock-sympathy, a look that made the psychic’s skin crawl. Y/N’s jaw ticked, biting the inside of her cheek, both her and Sam struggling to control their facial expressions.

“Watch your mouth” Sam warned, “Admit it” The demon stepped towards them, “You two are here, going through the motions. But the truth is, you’ll be a tiny bit relieved when he’s gone” The demon insisted, “Shut up” Y/N warned, her finger hovering over the trigger. She shut her eyes, trying to ease her anger as Sam pulled her back slightly.

“No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free” The demon continued to taunt, “We said, SHUT UP!” Sam bellowed his patience breaking, the demon simply tilted her head with a smirk. “Huh. Doth protest too much if you ask me” She quipped, “Alright, I’ve had enough of your shit. You let my man out of his deal right now. Or so god help me, I will put a bullet into your skull” Y/N demanded, her tone dark and low.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but your man’s an adult. He made that deal of his own free will. Fair and square” The demon denied as she stepped around the two. The demon had a condescending smile plastered on her face as Y/N bit her bottom lip, trying to control her temper. “It’s ironclad” The demon smirked, her back turned to them. “Every deal can be broken” Sam scoffed as Y/N still held the gun in the demon’s direction.

“Not this one” The demon turned to face them once again, they refused the believe it. Desperation filling them. “Fine, then she’ll kill you. If you’re gone, so is the deal” Sam bluffed, but Y/N wasn’t bluffing about killing the demon. “Guess again” The demon smirked. Their faces dropped, “What?” They gasped in unison. “Sam, Y/N. I’m just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contact, not me.” The demon explained.

Their gazes remained hard, “He wants Dean’s soul, bad. And believe me, he’s not gonna let it go” She shook her head, “You’re bluffing” Y/N prayed to god she was right, “Am I?” The demon scoffed, the cocky look not leaving her face. “Shoot me, if it’ll get you off” She tempted them. “But the deal still holds. And when Dean’s time is up, he’s getting dragged into the pit”

“Then who’s your boss? Who holds the contract?” Sam demanded as Y/N lowered the gun, giving the demon some hope she’s getting out of there alive. “He’s not as cuddly as me, I can tell you that” The demon responded as Sam and Y/N’s rolled their eyes, “Who is he?” Y/N demanded, her nostrils flaring. “I can’t tell you” The demon shook her head, their eyes filled with anger again but they managed to keep a calm demeanor. “I’m sorry Sam and Y/N, but there’s no way out of this one…..Not this time”

The two exchanged a look, neither of them wanting to accept her answer but not knowing what else to do. They communicated with their eyes, Y/N raising her brow, ‘We gonna kill her?’ she asked in Winchesterarian.

Sam shrugged before nodding, practically saying, ‘Kill the bitch’

So, in a swift movement, Y/N raised the gun again and shot the demon in the middle of her forehead. The demon’s face fell slack, her eyes empty and glazed over as she fell to the ground. Silence blanketed the area. Y/N lowered the smoking gun, her face stone cold, no emotion or expression on it.

For some reason, she found herself itching for Maverick’s Dagger, the need to place her hand on that godforsaken and ‘destroyed’ knife growing on her again.

A guttural sound left the demon’s throat before a sulfuric smell filled the empty area, filling Sam’s nose, he grimaced in disapproval. His expression mirrored Y/N’s as the demon’s body twitched with an orange glow, his face as cold as ice.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Heyyyyyyy, heyyyy, how y’all doinnnn☺️ Hope everyone enjoyed it!❤️

I mentioned in my first author's note that it’s carnival season in my country and it made me wonder, where is everyone else from? It’s totally up to you buttt, why don’t you guys drop your flag/state??? I’d love get to know where all of my wonderful and loyal readers are based, just my way of feeling more connected with with everyone <3

I’ll go first🥰 I hail from the beautiful (and bacchanal filled💀) twin islands of Trinidad and Tobago🇹🇹

Sometimes I feel as if I’m the only Caribbean writer for Supernatural so I’d love to know if there are any other fellow Caribbean’s who share my love🫶

Anyways, enough rambling. I hope everyone is having an amazing February and you all had an amazinggg Valentine’s Day. Much love! See you in the next episode🥰

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark

Xoxo

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

⟶ tl;dr summary

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“花落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之人得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉万民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上忆吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[yearnstarved]

have you ever thought about dying your hair blond ? ( INBOX PROMPT | @danversiism )

★ MCCOY'S EYEBROW QUIRKS UP. "As your CMO on board, I feel like I'm required to ask this first." McCoy shifts his posture in his chair. "What the hell are you on?"

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: You’d agreed to meet someone from the internet and you find yourself tied up in a basement. 

Warnings: dark fic!, attempted mugging, drugging, abduction, suspension bondage, Murder Daddy™️, oral sex (m receiving), dub-con, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, knife play, biting, blood play

A/N: I had an idea about Lloyd Hansen. Here is that idea. I haven’t written for Chris Evans’ character since Steve Rogers pre-Infinity War so this was an exercise and a half! Also, many many many thanks to @peyton-warren and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for helping me entertain Lloyd and for helping me to not lose my mind whilst writing this. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art: by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

It’s just your luck, honestly.

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was a dark street. The time was 9:03 pm.

Well, technically you could blame your Tinder date for this. He didn’t fucking show up and he didn’t respond to your texts or calls. Like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth. You ended up waiting for an hour and decided to just pay for your third cup of coffee and leave.

Luckily for you, the buses were still running and there was a stop just across the street from the diner. You climb off your stool at the counter and exit through a particularly noisy door. It alerts some guys down the street and they turn to look at you before turning back to each other. Your sigh of relief is reversed when you get across the street and hear one of them shouting at you before moving closer.

You check the bus schedule that hangs in the bus shelter. You only have to wait for five minutes for safety. 

What could go wrong?

“Hey baby, can I have your number?” The overwhelmingly strong skunky smell of bad weed hits your nasal passage and you gag. “Oh, what? I’m disgusting to you? Stuck up, bitch!”

“Look, I’m just trying to get home. I don’t want any trouble.” Your hand went to your pocket where you had your safety keychain on your keyring.

“Too fucking bad because you just landed yourself in trouble, cunt,” Three long strides and he has you in his grip, pulling you behind the bus shelter into the empty alleyway. He pushes you onto the wet pavement and is on top of you in seconds. He watches as you open your mouth to scream and he clamps a hand around your throat, cutting you off. “Who do you think is coming for you, unlucky bi–”

“What the fuck…hey!” A voice is coming from the street and getting closer.

Your attacker is being pulled off of you and it’s so dark in the alley that you can’t fully see who grabbed him. You see a dark blur and you hear sounds of a struggle before a strong pair of hands is helping you up. 

“Are you ok, Miss?” You’re being ushered down the alley to the only lit streetlight. The more you walk under its glow, you notice the man who saved you. Your eyes are drawn to the push broom on his lip first, then to his slicked-back hair, and finally to his dramatically-patterned polo and pastel chino pants.

“Yeah, I’m fine…I think. Thanks.” You reach out your hand to touch his where it lingers on your arm. He doesn’t attempt to remove his hand, even after you squeeze it with yours quickly.

“No problem, why don’t I take you home? My car’s just around the corner here.” He does attempt to pull you towards the street. You know better than to let anyone take you to a second location, so you put your hand up with a smile.

“That’s quite alright. I’ll just wait for the bus if you don’t mind.” You try and remove your arm from his hand but his grip on you gets tighter.

“Let me at least walk you back to the bus stop?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You try to turn away and he pulls you closer to him.

“Why did you have to make this difficult, Sunshine?” His angry growl is quiet but no less intimidating.

“I’m sorry, wha–” You don’t get to finish as you feel a sharp prick in your bicep. Looking down, you see a syringe sticking out of your skin. You go to pull out the needle but darkness fades into your eyesight and you slip off into the void.

You awake to a pounding in your head. Your arms are sore. Your legs are numb. And you can feel the stiff presence of duct tape over your mouth. Opening your eyes, you try to raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness but you realize your arms and legs have been immobilized.

Looking around, you see that you’re suspended about three feet above the ground in some pretty elaborate rope bindings. Your wrists are crossed against your bare chest. Your left leg is being held up straight, while your right leg is only supported by two lengths of rope on your thigh, leaving your foot to dangle which means your pussy is on full display. 

You hear a door open and two sets of footsteps walk down the stairs. As the steps get closer, you hear two voices as well. 

“...didn’t have to punch me so fucking hard!”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you didn’t have your slimy hands all over my things, I wouldn’t have had to bruise your fucking spleen. Don’t be such a pussy, Dougherty!”

 “Fuck you, Hansen.”

“Don’t be sad I have a new plaything and you don’t.”

“Yeah. Just don’t wreck this one like that last girl.”

You struggle in the ropes and try and grunt loudly through the duct tape and the metal anchor that holds the rope loudly jostles. You pick your head up and look to your right as the men come into view.

As you recognize the man who had you on the ground, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the geometric-patterned polo-wearing man who tried to “save” you. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I know you must have a lot of questions. But, you’re gonna listen first,” He walks until he can grab onto the ropes that hold you up. Looking down at you, he smiles sweetly. He begins to swing you toward him, letting go and watching as you swing back and forth, “Now, my name is Lloyd Hansen, but you are to call me Sir. You now belong to me. From every thought you have to every step you take. I own all of it. You may be wondering why I chose you of all people. Well, it had to be you, Sunshine. You’re the one.”

You are at his mercy as his hands grope at your tits and he pinches your nipples. You turn your head to look away but he just grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.

“Now, Sunshine, you take what Sir gives you and you are appreciative. Trust me, this will all make sense later. But for now, I think it’s time I claim what’s mine.” He stalks over to your legs, standing between them. He places a kiss on your left ankle as he grabs at your right thigh. Pulling your core flush with his clothed hardness, you can feel exactly how excited he is to own you.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but–”

“But yet, you are interrupting. What?” Lloyd says as he trails kisses down your calf, his mustache tickling you as he moves.

“Well, I just…you said you would pay me. And I don’t really wanna stay around for whatever this is, honestly.” 

Lloyd finally turns his head to the other man in the room before patting your leg, “I’ll be right back, Sunshine. Don’t you go anywhere, ok?”

Fucking asshole.

Pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, Lloyd starts counting bills, “So what do you say to…a hundred bucks?”

“I say fuck you if you think I’m taking less than half a yard. Shit, I didn’t even get to fu–”

The pop of a gunshot cuts through not only his sentence but also his left eye. You watch as Lloyd pockets the money and turns back to you with a smile.

“Fuck, ok. I didn’t plan on shooting him in front of you. But…well, I did,” He caresses your cheek before ripping off the tape from your mouth. He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, expectantly waiting for you to speak.

“What do you want from me?” Your wrists hurt from struggling against the ropes.

“Oh, Sunshine. I want everything from you…eventually. But for now, I want to use your mouth.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, “Those fucking lips of yours look so delectable.” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb and you debate biting it. Then, you remember the dead guy in the room.

Just comply. He won’t have to hurt you if you comply.

You clear your throat to get Lloyd to look at you. “Um…S-Sir?”

“Look at you calling me Sir already like a good girl,” He beams, looking down at you and holding your face in his murderous hand, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Are you going to kill me, Sir?” You couldn’t stop the fat tears from falling as you blink up at his face. You watched as his smile fell and he crouches to bring his face to your eye level.

“I would love to tell you that I won’t kill you, Sunshine. But it really all depends on you. If you don’t give me a reason to kill you, I won’t kill you. It’s as simple as that, Sunshine.”

You feel your eyes glaze over as you thought about what Lloyd had said. You didn’t want to give him a reason to kill you. You also know that there was no one coming to save you. You had no family, no friends, no roommates. You had lived a solitary life. 

The sound of Lloyd clearing his throat brought you back to reality.

“Use my mouth, Sir.” 

No sooner does the half-sultry half-terrified sentence leave your mouth, than Lloyd is reaching into his chinos to pull out his fat dick as he walks around you. You tilt your head back and are met with his impressive package. Eight inches of veiny length in your face suddenly is a lot to handle. As he strokes himself, he makes sure to keep it just out of reach. You hate yourself for licking your lips and following his hand with your eyes.

He positions his dick slightly over your mouth and squeezes his length from base to tip so that a dribble of pre-cum hits your lips. You snake your tongue out to taste him, the salty bitter taste you expect turns out to be almost sweet. Why couldn’t he just taste terrible?

“Open up, Sunshine.” He steps closer to you as you part your lips. He doesn’t stop pushing in until you feel his balls touch your nose. You close your lips around him and breathe through your nostrils. 

Inhaling deeply, you’re hit with the familiar scent of sweetness mixed with musk—sort of Earthy. If you didn��t know any better, you’d say it was African black soap. You knew the smell very well, you used the body wash every day.

“Fuuuuck, baby. Gonna fuck this throat.” He wraps his large hands around your throat as he pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip before he slams back in making you gag. 

He starts a steady rhythm and soon his balls are slapping you in the face. You can deny it all you want, but the way he fits perfectly in your mouth is obvious. The way your hands clench into fists and unclench denotes the urge to grab him and pull him deeper. 

One of his hands moves from your throat to your tits. Pinching your nipples and groping the soft flesh must not be enough because soon he is slapping at your breasts, getting you to grunt around his dick. The groan that leaves him is so sinful, you wish you could squeeze your thighs together.

But you don’t have time to worry about that because Lloyd is pulling out of your mouth. A string of saliva connects you until he steps back. You try to follow him with your mouth but he’s out of reach too soon.

“Sir?” You don’t like the air of desperation in your voice when you speak. You watch as he moves to the other end of your body and you soon feel his hand roam from your thigh to your pussy.

In one swift motion, Lloyd is inside your cunt. With the grip his hands have on your hips, you know it’s going to hurt tomorrow. But, that’s a later problem because Sir is fucking you like he hates you. You should hate this, but you don’t. At least not yet.

“Fuck, Sunshine…knew your pussy was gonna feel good but DAMN!” 

You can’t help the slew of sounds that escapes your mouth as he fucks you. The last of which sort of sounded like “Hnnnngg”. You feel as if you are going to explode at any minute but a spike of fear hits you as you think about where Lloyd is going to finish. You’re not on birth control. The speed of his thrusts picks up and you can feel him swell inside you. Fuck it.

“Sir, cum with me!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuck…” Lloyd latches onto your stretched left leg with his teeth, leaving behind deep and angry bite marks as he empties inside you. Pulling out, he watches his spend leak from you, righting his pants.

You are in a state of bliss so deep that you barely register as Lloyd bites into your right thigh enough to break the skin in a few places. But you can feel the sting of his butterfly knife as it moves over your skin.  The letters “LH” well with blood on your leg as silent fat tears roll down your face.  

“Now you can wear my bite mark like the badge of honor that it is. And when that fades, you’ll still have my initials so you can be returned to me if you are ever lost. I don’t plan on losing you, so you better not plan on getting lost, Sunshine.”

“I don’t want to get lost, Sir. I like it here with you.” The tremble in your voice doesn’t hide your fear, and part of you doesn’t want it to. You want him to know he doesn’t have to worry about losing you somehow.

“Think you can behave for a bath and a meal? I’ll have to supervise the bath, of course. And we’d be eating together. Unless you like being hungry, in your own filth with my cum dripping out of you all night. What do you say?” Lloyd offers, the fingers of one hand ghosting over his initials on your thigh.

“Would I still have to be tied up, Sir?” So many questions you could have asked, but you picked this one. 

Maybe if your hands were free, you could…do what? Fight him? Pick a lock? 

No, just comply. You can do this. 

“You won’t be tied up, but I do have a gift for you upstairs. But you can only have it if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be a good girl, Sunshine?” While he spoke, he dragged a fingernail from your thigh to your upper torso as he walked around your body to your head.

“I’ll be a good girl for you, Sir. I promise.” The words on your tongue felt both foreign and familiar. Almost like you weren’t afraid for him to hurt you. 

You were afraid that he wouldn’t. And that scared you more than anything. 

Part II

A/N: There will be more of this. I’ve never written for Lloyd before but I enjoyed him as the little devil on my shoulder.

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @peyton-warren

If you would like to be tagged in the next installment, lemme know 🫣

[what-have-i-unleashed]

the sweetest poison

continuation of this

carrion trio angst i love them so much i have to put them through the wringer for real

(cw: violence, attempted murder, suicidal thoughts)

"no, no, no, please. sans, don't-"

"don't worry. i'll put you out of your misery. i'll save you too, like i'll save everyone."

crow is, as expected, wriggly when murder tries to pin him down on the ground. his clawed hands dig into murder's arms, tearing the clothes and drawing blood. but murder is used to this - the pain that is. it's easy to ignore the stinging pain and numb the vortex in his screaming soul. just one stab through the soul and crow will be free from the agony of this cursed world.

it was a mistake letting someone close to him again, after all this time. and now crow is hurt, and it's all his fault.

he can fix this. he can still salvage this.

"sans, sans, i don't want to die! no, please!" crow cries, a pitiful sound so different from his usual cheer it makes murder's own soul hurt just hearing it.

"it's okay, it's okay," murder attempts his best soothing voice. "it'll be over soon, i promise."

LIAR.

murder ignores papyrus' scoff as he struggles to overpower crow's surprisingly strong grip on his arms. honestly, he doesn't understand why crow is so adamant on this. dying is easy, living is hard - isn't that always the case?

after all, death will gladly welcome both of them in his realms. murder can't dream of a more peaceful ending than that.

(is it?)

murder is so focused on his soon-to-be-victim that he doesn't see a spear directed towards him. the attack hits him and flings him away from crow. as he tries to get up, multiple spears sprouts from the ground and trap him in a makeshift cage.

"undyne...?" he mutters. no, that couldn't be possible. there's no reason why undyne would be in snowdin at this time for no reason. murder can only turn his head to see a pair of blue wings covering his sight of his beloved messenger. as the interloper turns around, murder freezes. it is undyne, but not the one he's familiar with. this one sports a jacket and a pair of goggles just like crow, and she looks furious.

(ah, so this is what the true hero of the underground looks like.)

undyne takes a step towards murder, in her arms holding crow, who looks so much smaller (so much more fragile) without the weight of most of his wings. murder only has eyes on the frazzled little crow, feeling something heavy deep in his nonexistent stomach.

"dyne, no..." crow whispers, weakly tugging on undyne's jacket. the ginger looks at crow, who continues. "don't hurt him... let's just leave... please..."

for some reasons, that plea doesn't make murder feel any better, only worse.

(he doesn't deserve it - the compassion, the mercy. he needs the pain of retribution inflicted upon him.)

as the two winged monsters disappears, murder crumbles on the ground. he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry at what just transpired.

I SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU'D FAIL. YOU'RE NOT HIS SAVIOR.

(he could never l o v e again.)

numbly, he picks up one of the scattered black feathers and wonders if he'll ever see that friendly smile again.

[adampalharine-art]

Day 016

Back in time? That was crazy! It was idiotic! It was impossible!

Leo: – That's...

Donnie: – ...Possible. – Leo looks at his brother, surprised to see him opening his eyes. – It's... Possible, but... It's not that simple, the energy you would use for this would kill you.

Mikey: – Not if it's just a few minutes... maybe an hour at most I could still open a portal and take Donnie to the hospital. – He lies, thinking that he would actually die if he did that, but he wanted to give Leo a chance to save his boyfriend, to save Rapha and Donnie, since he imagined that his brother would not survive the injury.

Leo: – I-I don't know... I... – he feels Donnie's grip on his shoulder falling silent.

Donnie: – If we're going to be so bold... Why don't we try something more radical? – He looks at Mikey. – We can stop all of this. – He speaks gesturing to himself.

Mikey: – W-what do you mean? – Then he opens his eyes wide, seeming to understand what his brother wanted to say. – Are you… talking about stopping Draxun from creating us?

Donnie smiles, his face lighting up in a slightly proud way that Mikey caught his crazy idea.

Donnie: – I am. – he has another coughing fit, spitting out more blood, almost knocking Leo to the ground. – Think with me... You want to send Leo, in this state, to fight against you, an hour ago, when he was at full strength. Not to mention that Leo would never kill you, even if it would save humanity. But... Even in this state, he can help Lou Jitsu defeat Draxun and thus save us from a shitty creation and stop all of this.

Mikey ponders the matter, so much energy would certainly kill him, but... He could fix things, he could REALLY save the brothers... Well, at least one version of them.

Mikey: – I'm cool. – Look at Leo. - Lets do this.

Leo: – Wait, Mikey, I... – he feels Donnie's hand on his shoulder again, that grip that said it was better for Leo to shut up and just agree. – V-very well... Let's try. – That's his answer, yet when the youngest walks away he looks at Donnie. – What’s on your mind? – she speaks between her teeth just so he can hear.

Donnie: – What... You and I are not going to get out of this. – She looks at Leo with fear glaring in her eyes. – But... If we help Mikey open this portal, he might survive.

Leo: – And... Why would we do that?

Donnie: – I... I just thought it's better for him to live in a world where... He can have a second chance, than in one where we end up leaving him alone again, so he can martyr himself for the rest of his life for death pain brothers...

He hears that, feeling a strong tremor run through his body, lowering his eyes to the ground, his vision blurred and his mind numb. But then he sees Mikey trying to open the portal, sees the cracks in his arms, pressing his lips together and then looking at Donnie.

Leo: – I hate it when you're right.

Mikey stands up, taking a deep breath, looking down at his hands. He... He would probably die from it, but... If it would save his brothers. He was happy with that. He concentrates, opening the portal, seeing his fingertips begin to crack as the mystical energy begins to run up his arm.

He starts to see cracks go up his arm, feeling the portal becoming unstable, maybe he was mistaken and couldn't do it alone. He grits his teeth, startled when he feels hands on his shoulders, looking at Donnie and Leo.

Leo: – Come on, little brother!

Donnie: – Let's clean up this mess!

<< ☆ Masterpost ☆ >>

[pinkopaque19]

The Myth Of Ambrogio

Ambrogio was a normal Italian man who went to see the Oracle of Delphi. When he saw the Oracle, what she told Ambrogio about the blood and the moon, the young man was confused, so he waited until morning to see her again. When he saw the Oracle and beautiful maidens again, Ambrogio noticed one of the maidens was the Titan goddess Selene, who he fell in love with, but what Ambrogio didn't know was that sun god Apollo was also in love with Selene.

When Apollo found out, he didn't want Selene to fall in love with the human, so he placed a curse on him so he could never walk around in the daylight. Ambrogio still loved Selene and knew that because she was a goddess and he was mortal she would live and would die so he went to the underworld seeking to meet with Hades. He made a deal for Hades to keep his soul while his body still lives on earth.

Hades accepted Ambrogio's deal; if could steal Artemis' silver bow and arrows he would make him immortal. Ambrogio agreed he went to Artemis asking to join her group of hunters; she trusted him and let the man join her followers. Ambrogio tried to take the bow and arrows but Artemis caught him and was angry that he lied to her so she placed a curse on him, making the silver bow and arrows give Ambrogio a burning allergic reaction. Fearing the hunting goddess's wrath Ambrogio apologized and asked to be forgiven. She would only forgive him if he proved his loyalty to her.

Ambrogio promised to prove his trust to her but like all her followers he had to never fall in love or get married like all of her hunters. This meant Ambrogio could never be with Selene ever but he agreed. Artemis decided to turn him into a hunter almost as great as herself. As the goddess of nature she gave him many enhanced abilities almost as great as her abilities. His senses, strength and speed to match many of the abilities that animals have. He was even given fangs and long claws like many animals. Artemis even gave him the power to heal making him better than all of her other hunters. But with all his new powers Ambrogio still looked human. Artemis gave him the power to change just like the gods themselves; the hunting goddess could change into a deer; she gave him the power to transform into a bat making him more like an animal.

Even though Ambrogio was told to never fall in love he still had feelings for Selene. Ambrogio became one of Artemis greatest hunters and because he proved his loyalty to her she gave him her silver bow and arrows allowing Ambrogio to take them to Hades. When Ambrogio returned to the underworld Hades kept his promise and he took Ambrogio's soul, now that he was immortal Ambrogio could finally be with Selene. However he learned a terrible thing when he saw her again he learned that Apollo punished and cursed Selene as well, she was now mortal and was dying.

Ambrogio brought her to Artemis, the nature goddess, who decided to help even though Ambrogio wasn't supposed to be in love. Artemis told him in order to save Selene he had to make her just like him. After becoming a vampire and shedding her mortal form Artemis, then took her to the moon and restored Selene's divinity. But with Ambrogio on earth and Selene on the moon, the two couldn't be together. Because he made a promise to Artemis, Ambrogio never married, he never loved anyone else but Selene. Though he created many more vampires just like himself and Selene.

After biting many people and changing them, Ambrogio and Selene called them their children. Ambrogio uses the venomous saliva that Artemis gave him to save Selene and to turn others into vampires while Selene shines the moonlight down upon their children to watch over them. Ambrogio and Selene's children gained all of the powers of their parents; enhanced strength, senses, speed, the ability to heal, vampiric poisonous saliva, turning into a bat and to have no souls. Another ability that the vampires gained was a virus in their blood that has no effect on vampires but any human that drinks their blood becomes just like them. The other vampires not only gain Ambrogio and Selene's abilities, but also their side effects such as their weakness to sunlight and silver. Because Ambrogio is a walking soulless corpse, most vampires don't have a soul and with Selene being a spirit separated from her dead mortal body other vampires gained the ability to turn what remains of their souls into a form of mist.

Because Selene and Ambrogio could never be together, the titan moon goddess fell in love with other beings. Though she has had other lovers from Endymion to Zeus and a few others, Selene still looks after Ambrogio and all of the vampires.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Chapter 9

Chapter warnings: Tom sticks his foot in his mouth some? AN: Chicks have survived! We ordered 4, got 5 and they all hatched on V day and have Vday themed names. Chapter 8, Masterlist, Chapter 10

“Let me be clear- I am committed for at least a year or until death. We’re married. I do not take that lightly.” It drove him mad that he had to keep saying it. When would she believe that it was more than just a whim? 

“Tom-”

“Part of being married is the sharing of resources and caring for each other. I care for you and I care for her. You don’t have to care about me- it would be nice but that may come in time.”

“What if you change your mind? What then?” 

Mia felt like screaming. She felt like running. She felt like crying. She felt like reaching out to him for comfort. Instead she sat stone still and board straight. 

“What if I let you find us some magical Las Vegas apartment, get us moved and three months from now you get tired of your secret American family and stop paying the rent?”

“I-” It was her turn to cut him off. 

“You’re right- I can’t afford anything better. I can’t afford food until Monday. If I let you in, let you change our lives and then you change your mind? We end up homeless. Hell, I can only afford this damn apartment because we’ve been there so long.” 

“I wouldn’t-”

“How do I know that? How can I trust that?” Mia’s frustration grew when her vision waved as her eyes grew teary. “You think I don’t want to give you a chance because you’re ugly or cruel or something. Any woman would die for this chance but I can’t. I’ve got a little girl who relies on me.” 

She harshly wiped away a tear that had the nerve to slip from her eye. 

“If I take a gamble and it’s a bust, she gets hurt. She ends up homeless. She ends up in state custody. She gets her heart broken too.” 

“I didn’t think of it that way.” 

She scoffed at him and he bristled at that, opening his mouth to try and defend himself. She started again before he had a chance to say anything though. 

“It’s my job to think of that. How can I trust a stranger, even a stranger I married on a whim, to not let some little girl who he’s known for even less time become homeless. How can I trust that you’re not going to suck her into your charm, make her see you as a father then walk away?”

“I don’t want to push her to see me as a father.” That was the easiest point to focus on first. “If that happens, it happens naturally. I’m not going to pretend that we don’t have a lot of things to decide on, to plan and work out but that will take time.”

Creeping fingers slid a few inches more. He wiggled his finger tips against hers, lacing them together. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a good sign.

 “Tom,”

“If I find an apartment- something modest but without gaps in the doors or maintenance crews that help themselves to tenant’s groceries, if I were to pay the lease up front for the year, would you consider it?”

“This is my life-” People would say she was using him, she knew that as much as she knew her name. 

“No, Mia- not any more.” His voice was soft, devoid of the harshness that had crept in. “It’s our life now. We get to decide what that looks like. We will go over what bills we’ll have, we’ll work together and come up with a plan that makes you feel safe and lets me feel assured that the two of you are safe.”

“I don’t want to use you.” She wanted to accept. 

Glancing at Sally, she knew for her daughter this sort of chance at financial security may never come again. If she allowed Tom to take care of them, even if things didn’t work out she could save her checks. 

“If I’m offering, insisting and fighting you to allow it, is that using me?”

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Mia ran her hand through her hair, scarping her nails along her scalp. “It’s just- It’s a lot, really fast.”

“I know.” 

She stood in the kitchen crying. There were boxes scattered in the living room to be taken to the trash later. Tom was upstairs reading who knows how many bedtime stories to Sally.

It felt weird to not be the one putting her to sleep. It felt good to have someone to help with simple tasks like bedtime. 

If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to this.

Realizing the refrigerator and freezer both had been standing open while she cried, for how long was anyone’s guess, she closed it. It was overwhelming, seeing the full shelves. Tom had kept his word, stocking the kitchen in a way she had never been able to do before. 

There were drinks and snacks. Brand new pest proof bins held rice, flour, sugar and dried pastas. A electric kettle sat on her counter and a variety of teas were stacked next to her coffee pot. 

Things for him. Things for her husband. 

“Are you alright?” Tom asked softly from the foot of the stairs. “She’s asleep.” 

Mia couldn’t do anything but nod at first. 

“It’s just a lot.” She said weakly. Everything was hitting her now. Regardless of if she wanted to or not, she was going to have herself a good cry right now.

“Is it?” Tom wasn’t sure what to say as he approached. 

“No one’s ever- I’ve never. We’ve never had this much before.”

Tom moved slow, giving her chance after chance to tell him to back up, to stop, to give her space or go away. Large hands rested on her shoulders as he looked down to her.

 “Does he not provide for his daughter?” That was a question that had been rattling around in his brain since he saw the picture. 

“He’s supposed to pay child support but he hasn’t in over a year. It’s just been me and when Ashley can, she’ll help.”

Slowly, Tom pulled her to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothed. 

It felt good to be held by him. The moment stretched on as she tried to keep her tears to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as she pulled herself away from him. 

There were things to do and crying in his arms wasn’t something on her schedule. 

They sat, cups of tea on the small table in front of them. Tom flipped through apartment listings only to have every single option turned down. Frustration built in him with each apartment, nice and basic, turned down. “Why? They’re all nicer than this place.” 

She sat in silence as he took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her intention but she was being difficult. 

“I’m sorry.” And she was, to a degree. “It’s just so much.’ 

“I’m just going to pick some and we’ll look.” Tom decided, locking his phone and setting it facedown on the table in front of them. “There’s still a lot to decide. We can put the utilities on auto pay so you don’t-”

“I don’t want you to pay for everything.” It would be better to just shut up and let him pay everything, she knew that. It would allow her to save more for when this inevitably falls apart but she just couldn’t make herself feel okay doing it. “Let me at least keep the electric and internet- the electric will vary during the year and the internet isn’t a necessity.”

“I can send money for groceries-” 

“If I’m not paying rent, groceries shouldn’t be a problem.” 

For the first time in their marriage, they sat and talked into the night. The topics were not fun ones. They talked of financial histories, debts, education and potential future earnings. They talked about the cost of managing their individual households.

Tom wasn’t rich in the realm of his career but compared to her, he was far more financially secure. And unlike her, his career was ramping up and reaching for the sky. Tom swore to her, regardless of what direction his career took, if their attempt at a marriage did not work he would not leave her financially hurt but she struggled still to put faith in him.

Midnight quickly approached and Mia’s yawns were coming more and more frequently. They were so different in backgrounds that simply learning about each other’s past ate up more of the night.

“You should go to bed.” Tom’s hand reached out for hers. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve been up just as long as me.” Mia countered though she still stood up, slipping her hand out from under his. 

“I need to be up a bit longer yet.” He wanted nothing more than to go up to bed though. “I’ve got to make some calls back home. Face the music and take my licks.” 

“Are you in trouble with someone?” 

“No, not really.” Tom thought twice about his answer after he said it. “Probably but hopefully he’s cooled off by now. My publicist wasn’t so happy with me. I blocked him after breakfast yesterday.”

“He knows about-?” She waved her hand to try and encompass the whole situation.

“Yeah, at least some of it.” 

“I didn’t know you told anyone yet.” It was weird. They had built their relationship, small as it was, in a bubble where in a lot of ways he was just a normal man who was caught up in a Las Vegas situation fit for a Lifetime movie.

“I didn’t.” 

Tom knew he needed to face reality head on. Luke would tell him how important it was to get ahead of the story and now it’s been two days. 

“There are pictures of us at a bar and of me with you in your gown. I don’t know how much the world knows but I did tell Luke about our marriage.” 

“It would be better for you if we didn’t do this.” Mia felt the earth tilting under her feet as what he was inched in again. 

“Maybe, but that’s not something I want to change.” 

Mia had so many questions but she didn’t know how to voice any of them. “Marriage records here are public,” was all she could think to say. 

“That’s not a problem- I was planning on telling the truth. Or at least a version of it.”

“What’s that mean?” 

“I like to keep my private life private. We’ll probably present us as something recent but not same day recent.”

“Should I stay up too?” Mia didn’t know what her role in this would be. 

Tom stood and walked over to where she lingered by the stairs. He was touched at how she had opened up to him, slight though it was. It was there, he could feel it- the little buds that could maybe grow into the roots of a real marriage. 

Reaching out, he took her hand in his. These small acts of affection were easier to accept each time they happened but it was clear they still left her uncomfortable. It still very much felt like pretend to her. Mia struggled to believe he felt anything but duty in them. 

“Go on up to bed. I’ll be up as soon as I get done.” 

Stand still. 

Stand straight. 

Write slow and careful. 

Be neat. 

Breathe. 

Mia checked and double checked her spelling on the form. She sucked on a breath mint, feeling like she was a teenager again trying not to get caught. If they didn’t pull this part off, the cards would come crashing down.

When she was sure, through the muddy sludge of her alcohol steeped mind, she handed the form to Tom. He filled his portion out just as methodically. Every time he would glance up at her, his concentration was broke by a wide grin. 

He was an old hand at filling out forms. Muscle memory took care of what Mia had spent ages overthinking. 

She followed his lead as they returned to the counter. Identification was handed over and then it was time to wait. They stood stoic and still. Every bone in their body wanted to dance, to move and to be in the moment. 

Toms fingers wove through hers. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Softly, he told her things that went in one ear and out the other, lost in the sound of blood rushing. 

“Here’s your packet. Identification is inside it.” The woman behind the counter sounded like she was reading from the dictionary to Mia. 

But not how Tom would sound reading from one. Tom would somehow sound breathtaking reading a dictionary. 

“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” 

“Thank you,” Tom said before leaning down and kissing Mia on her cheek. 

They had pulled it off. The woman either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care that the two standing in front of her were not just intoxicated but very intoxicated. This was the one test they had to pass and they did.

“We’re going to get married.” Mia leaned into Tom’s arm as they walked out of the building and into the magical night lights. 

“Let’s go make you Mrs. Hiddleston.” Tom whispered, grin wide was he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“Let’s go get married.” She smiled up at him, trusting him to guide her safely. 

Tom couldn’t help but glance down at the woman tucked into his side. The flashing lights reflected off her warm brown hair and danced in her eyes. 

He felt something he had never felt before when he looked at her, when she smiled up at him. It could just be the alcohol but he didn’t think so. In his heart, he knew what he felt was a love pure and simple. It was a love he had been chasing and seeking since he had become a man. 

It was a love he needed logic and fear to step aside for him to see clearly. 

Love was waiting for him, he had to just be willing to see it. 

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Ps: Sorry not sorry for the blog getting flooded in the next few weeks with baby chicken pictures, occasional dog videos and personal nonsense. Simply put, my pets are fucking cute and need to be seen. But also spring is coming and planting season is quickly approaching.