#tired of all the 'and the real monsters were us all along'

[puddingcatbeans]

to be perfectly honest. i don't care if it is cheesy or cliched or idealistic. i like stories where the core of it is about kindness, the warmth we can offer others and the gentleness we receive in return. maybe the moral of the story IS love triumphs. it better fucking be

#beanstalks #thoughts #tired of all the 'and the real monsters were us all along' #like yea we live in a society (derogatory) but also #we live in a society (in awe)

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 

Don’t do this, girl. 

Another message. 

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 

You needed better friends. 

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 

Or rather, when you get there. 

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 

 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

#sab [mlist] #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna fanfiction

[conelluwrites]

the red means i love you

Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)

posted on my AO3

word count: 2.6k

title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking

You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.

“Mmm…”  The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?”  His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings.  His hair is just barely out of place.  Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.

“W-Wha-!”  The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist.  One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone.  Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room.  His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.

“Shhh, shhh…  There’s no reason for you to be afraid.”  He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck.  “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…”  His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries.  It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked.  “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want.  No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear.  Sounds pretty nice, hm?”  His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.

“But I gotta protect my neighbors.  My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.”  She says, her voice trembling.  Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.

“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.”  The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head.  He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist.  His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape.  There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human.  “But how many times have they let you down?  Surely they have failed you before.  People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone.  I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”

Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors.  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”  The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have.  He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp.  If he wanted to maim her, he would have already.  “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling!  I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.”  The doppelgänger earnestly insists.  His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her.  “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours…  And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.”  He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers.  The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt.  “C’mon… please trust me.”

“But I-”  her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.

“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?”  He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans.  His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself.  “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”

She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face.  “My apartment is on the first floor.  We… We can go there together.  We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”

Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.”  He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room.  The walk to the apartment is short.  As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space.  “Nice place.  So cozy…”

“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”

Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.  After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone.  Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object.  “You’re so brave, you know.  C’mere.”

She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there.  The doppelgänger is taller than her.  Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing.  He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch.  He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings.  He drawings circles on his back with his free hand.  He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck.  Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck.  Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt.  Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away.  The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.

The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch.  If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion.  His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly.  “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”

“...”  She considers his words carefully.  Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can.  But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to.  She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck.  She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t.  “ I promise.”

“Good girl.”  He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck.  Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her.  His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair.  The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her.  “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”

“Oh?  Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.

Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck.  “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.”  With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening.  They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds.  With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool.  “Just relax, enjoy this moment.”  She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating.  “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly.  There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her.  Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound.  He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.

“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.

“Only for me to look at later.”  He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh.  The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away.  Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers.  “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”

“I don’t know much about them, to be honest.  They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.”  She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.

“You should know more than that.”  He growls. “We could use your help some day.”

“We?  You want me to help the doppelgängers?”

“Of course.  Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out…  You could be helpful in our cause.”

“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest.  His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing.  “Though…”

“Though?  You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family.  Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”

“Mm.”  She weighs his words carefully.  In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet.  “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them.  Does that make us mates?”

“Indeed.”  Silence stretches between them for a moment.  “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.”  He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.

“Ah, like marriages for humans then?  Do you want to consummate our bond?”

The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing.  “Yes.  But we must proceed cautiously.”

“Why’s that, my love?  Is your genitalia that different?”  She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly.  The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.

“Hm…  No, not quite.”  There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities.  “Our release is also quite different, I believe.  Is that okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes.  I want to be your mate, so please…  mate with me the way doppelgängers do.”  Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph.  The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise.  The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform.  Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense.  His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips.  His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum.  He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.

“Lie back.”  He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger.  She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently.  There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head.  She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties.  His gaze is full of pride.  “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”

“You’re perfect.”  She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly.  Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth.  She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex.  The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size.  She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.

He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly.  “You’re tight.”  He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep.  The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.

“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected.  So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance.  “I was scared about the bars, but shit…  your cock is so perfect for me.”  The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.

“That’s it!  Take everything I got!”  He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips.  “Answer me, would you want children?”  He gasps urgently.  Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.

“I-I-!  Yes!  I want to swell with your young.”  She says lovingly, moaning.

He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips.  The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership.  “Perfect.”  He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him.  “Ride me until we’re done.”

She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt.  “Fuck, baby…”  She breathes out, her hands on his chest.  Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.

“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.”  He orders hoarsely.  He hisses as her cunt adjusts.  The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her.  His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.  

She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster.  “I-I-...”  Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence.  She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him.  Instead, she leans down to kiss him.  Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.

“Say it.  Tell me how much we mean to each other.”  He demands huskily.  His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second.  It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.

“I love you, fuck, I love you!”  She moans loudly.  Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock.  “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.”  She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him.  Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt.  His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him.  Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him.  Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen.  She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.

He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock.  He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest.  It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake.  “Our bond is sealed.”  He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #tnmn milkman #tnmn #doppelganger #doppelganger francis mosses #banner by cafekitsune

[jgracie]

LEO AND Y/N’S GARAGE: AUTO REPAIR AND MECHANICAL MONSTERS

masterlist | rules

in which life after camp half-blood is everything you and leo could’ve wished for

pairing husband!leo valdez x wife!athena!reader

warnings none :)

on the radio . . . this is the life (amy macdonald), keep driving (harry styles)

an i read the bit w leo and calypsos repair shop in house of hades and knew what i had to do 👩🏼‍💻

Eventually, the scent of your lineage - half mortal, half Goddess - began to wear off. What once was the bane of your existence, singling you out as ‘different’ and putting you in danger from the moment you popped out of your mother’s brain, was now a faint odour, a mere memory of the life you once led and the people you knew.

Leo didn’t wear off, though. He could never. Your relationship had been unexpected by everyone who knew the two of you. Pristine, perfect Y/N, daughter of Athena, the girl who not only stayed within the lines but drew them herself, and Leo Valdez, a messy, wild son of Hephaestus. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew you wouldn’t stand him. He was persistent and annoying, never giving you a moment’s peace and tearing down the walls you so carefully built around yourself. 

In the end, he grew on you, and you realised you had a lot more in common than you thought. For example, your love of machinery. For as long as you could remember, you gravitated towards wires and nuts and bolts, only stopping when you got to camp as your life became filled with training and learning about the side of the family you didn’t even know you had. You used to longingly stare at the Hephaestus kids, itching to pick up a wrench and join them as they made all sorts of weaponry. Now, you own your very own garage: Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters.

It started off as a silly joke between you and Leo. You were newly graduated and after spending so much time taking care of the Godly side of your family, you forgot what life as a mortal was like. Sure, you always wanted to be a mechanic, but what now? You didn’t want to work for someone else. You spent your whole life working for other people and watching as everyone you loved had shrouds burnt for them (if they were lucky), so you thought it was only fair if you did something for yourself. 

“We could always open our own garage,” Leo had said when you voiced your thoughts that day, “‘Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters’ has a nice ring to it, right?” 

You laughed, saying something along the lines of “get real, Valdez,” before deciding to help him as he cooked dinner. Little did you know, Leo was being real. The next morning, he started looking for places he could rent for your garage. A few months after that, he began furnishing it and months after that, he started advertising. Once he was sure that everything was perfect, he decided to show you his little project, a velvet box with a certain piece of very valuable metal weighing down his coat pocket.

Today marks the six year anniversary of the opening of your garage (as well as the six year anniversary of your engagement), and to say business was booming would be an understatement. It started off as a place for mortals only, they’d drop off their cars and the nicer ones would stay for a little to make small talk, marvelling at your stories of how you sailed from the US to Europe together on a ship Leo built himself (you censored a lot of your experiences, of course), but after you expanded the garage, making it almost twice as big as it was before, you thought, ‘Why not let this be a place for demigods, too?’ 

Hidden from the eyes of mortals, the second half of your garage comes to life. There, you sell weaponry, armour and anything a demigod could possibly need, as well as providing a safe haven for those who needed recuperation after a long and tiring quest. You loved meeting them all, giving them advice and comfort as proof that things do get better and not all demigods die at the age of 16. 

“Leo, have you seen Espe?” You yelled, wiping the grime from your hands as you realised your daughter had gone missing. Your son was too young to be at the garage and usually you’d stay with him, but your hands were itching for a hammer and your dear sister and brother-in-law offered to babysit, so why not let them? Your daughter was another case. She seemed to have inherited her parents’ inability to sit still and love for making things, insisting on spending all her time at work with the two of you as soon as she could walk. 

On cue, Leo waltzed into the mortal side of the garage, your first born daughter, named Esperanza after his mother, in one arm and a toolbox in the other. “She decided to amuse herself with daddy’s magic toolbelt,” he said, sitting down on a nearby stool and placing her on his lap, “summoned about 50,000 gummy bears. I’m surprised she managed to override the cooldown on it, I’ve been trying to figure that out for years”

“Gummy bear?” She asked, looking up at Leo then at you, a grin - one she clearly got from her father - gracing her lips as she suddenly seemed interested in your conversation, making the two of you break into fits of laughter, which in turn made her laugh. Did she know what she was laughing about? No, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you were being watched. Sydney and Aaron, the two demigods you were hosting as the former’s leg healed, were going to tell you that they were good to leave tomorrow when they stopped, noticing you were having a moment.

“It’s hard to remember they’re demigods too,” Aaron began, “they seem so… normal. No chaos, no monsters, nothing,” he stared longingly at you, then down at the girl next to him. Could they have that too?

As if she read his mind, Sydney took his hand in hers and smiled, “we’ll make it, trust me. They went through a lot before this, remember? They were part of the last great prophecy. If they can do it, so can we.”

If you had told your past self that you’d marry the one boy who managed to get under your skin, start a family with him and open not just a garage, but a place where demigods could feel a sliver of normalcy, you would’ve laughed in your own face.

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez #leo valdez x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #leo valdez drabble #cynwrites

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

The Dragon's Gem (Malleus x GN!Reader)

Note: This banner will change in the future. I haven't had time to create a Halloween one yet. I meant to publish a Lilia fic today, but due to unforseen circumstances this week I was not able to complete it in time. I'm very sorry I've been slow lately - work has been something else. I hope to get the energy back sometime soon. My main goal is to finish the Beach Episode series, then move onto a mix of the Masquerade and Halloween events. Very late, I know, and I'm sorry. Please bare with me (I am very tired). Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this drabble in the meantime. Happy Halloween!!

“Is it real?”

“Hm?”

Malleus turned to face his beloved Child of Man. His pupils dilated at the mere sight of them, their glorious visage rivaling the most fantastic wonders of the world. To see that beautiful person staring down at his tail in their own wonderment made his heart swell all the more.

“Your tail,” they said, pointing to the appendage in question. “It doesn’t move like a fake one would, nor does it look like it’s made of plastic or something. So, is it real?”

“Yes, it is.” Malleus confirmed. “It is a part of my true form; I rarely reveal it, as it could be quite troublesome to others.”

“How so?”

Their genuine curiosity was adorable. Malleus could not help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Well, sitting at a desk would be a trifle. They are often closely packed together. Unlike, say, Kingscholar’s tail, it would be hard to tuck mine somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way.” Malleus’s smile then wavered as he continued. “That, and I am already greatly feared by most of the student body. I suppose I want to make myself appear less…monstrous around them.”

[Name]’s gaze softened, their lips down-turning along with their eyebrows. Malleus’s heart skipped a beat; he did not mean to make them sad! Before he could apologize, however, his Child of Man spoke again - softly, tenderly.

“I can’t say much for others, but you’re not a monster, Malleus.” Their hand came to rest upon his arm. The look in their eyes was sincere - the emotion so prominent it practically swept Malleus off his feet. “Tail or no tail, you’re just like the rest of us.” Finally, a smile graced their features once more. “Your features don’t make me love you any less.”

Love…could that be…? No - no, certainly not. The proclamation was far too casual to be a confession. That, and if they were to do such a thing, would it not be with some sort of gift in tow? It was the proper thing to do - at least that’s what Malleus had been taught. Could [Name]’s courting rituals be different in their world? Malleus would have to pry at a later date…but how to do so without being too forward?

“Malleus?” [Name] called softly, head tilted to the side. “Are you there?”

Malleus snapped out of his thoughts with a silent gasp. He quickly composed himself and smiled down at them. “Yes, I am alright - more than alright, actually. Your words have touched my very soul. Thank you for your kind words; I will try to remember them from now on.”

[Name] seemed relieved with his answer. They smiled and nodded, then retracted their hand from his arm. Malleus missed the contact immediately, but did not reach out for them. He would do so later, when the act would not seem to forward - too desperate. Oh, if only Lilia were here now; perhaps he could bestow upon Malleus some more wisdom if he were. Without him, however, Malleus would make due for the time being.

Malleus noticed [Name]’s eyes were back on his tail, a look of curiosity within them. The man’s smile widened a tad, eyes narrowed in amusement. He nudged his tail forward - he chuckled when [Name] flinched in surprise. How adorable they were.

“You are welcome to touch it, if you like.” Malleus’s next words were spoken with a mild teasing lilt. “I should warn you though: it could easily send you flying if you’re not careful.”

The Child of Man showed no hesitation in their smile or movements. Their eyes lit up with joy; their hands quickly found the scales of the tail, tracing each with their fingertips. It took all of Malleus’s being not to explode in a red flush at that moment - especially with the words that left his dear one’s lips.

“I’m not too worried; I know you won’t hurt me.”

No - Malleus could never even dream of it.

Perhaps Halloween outside of Briar Valley was just as enjoyable. Hopefully, in the near future, the prince could bring a precious gem back with him - if they would have him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #my work #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twst halloween #drabble #falling in love #pining #tails #short and sweet #comfort

[charlie-lec-stories]

Everything happens for a reason // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Stroll!Sister

Summary: After a whole life of following her father's orders, Y/N's tired of being the good girl and when she finally stood up for herself with the help of her best friend, all hell broke loose.

Warnings: Sexual comments and scenarios, cheating, strong vocabulary.

Author’s Note: Well guys, gals and non-binary pals, you know I love messy stories, this is no exception. Rate: +18 (adult content)

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"UGHHHHHH". Y/N couldn't help but laugh out loud when her brother, Lance, sat down beside her, grunting as if it was the hardest thing his body had done in 20 years.

"Really, Lance, was it really that hard? Are you that old?". She rolled her eyes as the boy fixed his position on the roof, making sure that he wouldn't fall off. They had the tradition of sitting on the roof of their mansion after dinner and before bed time. They had an hour before the staff would start looking for them, the only time they could be normal and not billionaires.

"I'm not old, it was that hard, some of us train, you know. Not everyone is naturally gifted at driving cars". She laughed again. Even though her brother tried to act annoyed with her great driving, he was actually proud of her.

"I'm not that good". She lied, but he shook his head, then let it rest on her shoulder, getting comfortable next to her under the blanket she had. Her hand went to his hair, lovingly running her fingers through the locks.

"Don't lie. Gees, I'm not ever sure who you got that from, because dad sucks". She felt his body shake as he giggled at his own comment. "That old man may love racing but God knows he should never touch a steering wheel".

"Hey, don't be like that, he's an average driver...". Lance moved his head up to give her a pointed look. "He is!... When it comes to tennis karts he is". They stayed silent for a moment before bursting out laughing so hard that they got worried someone might have heard.

"Okay, okay, enough with roasting the old man". Lance said once they calmed down. He resumed his position close to her and changed the subject. "Are you excited for the new season? I mean, you have a real chance this time, sis".

"Carlos said the same". She said, sighing and looking into the horizon. The sun was setting and the sky had that perfect shade between pink and purple, it was lovely, it made her feel at peace.

"Well, we are right. I'm always right, as you obviously know, and Carlos is your best friend, he could never lie to you, that's illegal". Y/N smile, that was true, her best friend was the most honest person she had ever met, and if there were two people in the world she trusted with her life, those were Lance and Carlos.

"Speaking of Carlos, I have something to tell you about this season". Lance could feel the tension in her voice so he fixed his position again, showing her that he was giving her his full attention. "Nelson, you know, the PR guy, he told me that I have to get into a PR relationship. He gave me two options: Carlos or Leclerc. Of course, I chose Carlos. I'd rather fake-date my best friend than Charles-stupid-Leclerc".

"You should let go of that anger, your beef with Charles was years ago, he's a nice guy". Lance rolled his eyes at his sister. Y/N and Charles fought after a karting race when they were 16 and never got along after that. He was unnecessarily mean to her and she always over-reacted. But to be fair to Charles, she did say to him that he had a small penis in front of the whole grid, and that can be really harmful for a teenage boy. The fact that everyone knew that they had hooked up once only made the accusation seem more reliable, humiliating Charles even more in front of their peers. To add to the feud, Y/N called him "Peanut" and he called her "Matagot", which is basically a south-french mythology monster that only treats you well if you keep it well-fed, otherwise it can be your biggest nightmare. It was Charles' way of calling her a spoiled brat, that only cares for others when she can get something in return.

"He's not nice. But I don't want to talk about him, I want advice. I have never been in a PR relationship before and you have. It's pretty uncomfortable to have to do this with Carlos, but I have to make it work".

Lance and Y/N spent their hour talking, he gave her advice on what to do and how to keep the friendship strong after having to be all over each other in public. It was going to be awkward, but her contract said that there were things she had to do to get a better public image and Carlos was a great way to keep things interesting. Drive to Survive, the Netflix series about the sport needed something to talk about, and a relationship between two drivers from different teams was perfect, and that's how she ended up trapped with a PR relationship. Around 10 pm, they got down the roof and made their way to their rooms. Before bed, Y/N checked her phone and found a text from her best friend.

Chili-man: Hey kiddo! I know that this is going to be awkward, but remember that we're best friends first, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you let me know and I'll do everything to help out. Okay?

Y/N: Thanks Chili-man. I love to know that you're always on my corner. You're the best. And the same goes for you. It's gonna be weird, but at least I'm not fake-dating Peanut.

Chili-man: Don't be mean, he's a nice guy.

Y/N: You and my brother need to stop being such Leclerc's advocates, I'm sure he can pay his own defense lawyers, you guys don't need to do it for free. Anyways, good night and I'll see you tomorrow for the first day!

Chili-man: I promise he's not that bad. But whatever. Sleep tight kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of her father shouting and her mother begging him to lower his voice. Still half asleep, she walked to the door and cracked it open. Outside, she saw Lance peeking out of his own room and after sharing a puzzled look, they moved their attention to their father. He was at the end of the hall, at the door of his room, their mother was pulling at his arm, trying to pull him into the room without success. It was strange to say the least, that their mother interfered with their father's affairs, she had her own business to worry about, but she seemed actually worried about the discussion their father was taking part in over the phone.

"I SAID NO. I don't care about the numbers, I don't care about the stupid show. She's not dating Carlos Sainz Jr. She'll do that over my dead body!". Both Lance and her looked at each other. Why was he so upset? He loved the Sainz; he had been friends with Carlos Sainz Sr. for as long as they could remember. "I DON'T CARE IF IT'S FAKE".

"Honey, please, they'll hear you". Their mother tried to calm him down, but he was furious.

"THEN USE LECLERC, BUT SHE'S NOT DATING CARLOS AND THAT'S MY FINAL WORD". She definitely didn't like that last statement. Her father hung up and stormed into his room. It was her turn to be upset, she didn't want to date Charles Leclerc, fake or for real, it was a nightmare both ways. A little later that morning she tried to convince her father in her favor, but he was so angry that it was impossible to make his change his mind. Carlos texted her mid-day, while she was on the jet on her way towards Bahrain, asking her what happened and why his PR team told him that he was replaced by Charles. She didn't want Carlos to feel bad or inadequate in the eyes of her father, so she lied and said that she had no idea and that as soon as she had an answer for that, she would tell him. When she made it to Sakhir, she was told to leave her luggage at her room and then go back to the lobby so she could wait for a car there with Nelson. They had to meet with Charles and his team to discuss the details of the arrangement. It was a quiet car ride, Nelson was aware of what she thought of Charles and that the change had not been her decision, so he let her off the hook for a few minutes.

"Welcome, Miss Stroll, please have a seat". Kathy, Charles' PR head of the department greeted her when they made it to the hotel where Ferrari was staying. The room they used for the meeting was a last time arrangement, but it had space and it made her feel better, considering how bad things could get once Charles arrived.

"Thank you". She sat down on the couch and Kathy handed her a glass of water. They didn't have to wait much before Charles walked through the door. If it wasn't for her being completely aware of how much of a prick he was, she was sure that she could fall at his feet over and over again every time she saw him. He was the most handsome man on Earth, she knew that, but he was also aware of that so it posed a problem for her.

"Sorry I'm late, I wanted to shower after the flight". He sat on the bed of the room and looked at Y/N when she scoffed.

"Thank you for that! Now the only thing that stinks in this room is your shitty personality". Charles growled. They spent less than two minutes together, 2 meters apart, and they were already at each other's throats.

"I told you this was not gonna work". He told Kathy. "She's a spoiled little shit and I can't stand her close to me. The feeling is obviously mutual, why force this?".

"Because you're the perfect marketing option and it's our job-". Kathy pointed between her and Nelson. "- to make you both a selling machine. So you'll both make it work or your teams will reduce money from your salaries for breaching your contracts".

"That's not fair. I need my money and this Matagot doesn't give two shits about her contract, her Daddy is a billionaire, you're giving her all the power in the world over me!". Charles complained. He knew that she didn't need the money, she could make his life a living hell without a problem and he would have to take it all like a good boy not to lower his income.

"Suck it up, Peanut. Compensate that small pecker of yours by being the bigger person!". She was enjoying the moment.

"The itinerary is long. Read it, learn it and follow it". Nelson explained to ease up the tension. "Remember to be caring and loving, but do not overdo it. Kiss once in a while, hold hands while you walk together. We'll take care of the interviews and the press. Act the part for Netflix and we'll help you with the conflict for the show-".

"We don't need help with conflict". Charles interrupted.

"We need conflict, not first degree murder, Charles". Kathy sent them a stern look as she let the comment out and both drivers looked at their laps.

"Okay, I got it all. Can I go now?". She wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

That night she texted Carlos, and he told her something interesting: His PR team and his father told him to put some distance with her. They were both surprised, since when did their parents dislike the idea of them being friends? They had been friends their whole lives, close since they remembered. They were like siblings, why couldn't they be friends anymore? They understood the whole PR thing, that she needed to sell and that there was drama that had to occur between her and her fake boyfriend, but why did it all have to happen with Carlos at an arms' length? It was weird and she needed to know. It was hard enough that her father had controlled her whole life, she was already old enough to make her own decision. Why did he care so much about her friends? It wasn't like she was going to date Carlos for real. Carlos had his own questions, he was almost 30, his father was stepping over a line trying to control his life like that, but he respected his old man and he was going to listen, as long as the decision didn't prove to be hurtful for his best friend.

"I'm not kissing you". She said as soon as she met Charles at the lobby of her hotel. They were supposed to show up together for the first day at the paddock. Of course, she wanted to make it difficult for him. "I'm not doing the same stupid shit twice".

"You don't have to do me this time, Matagot". Charles hissed at her. "Plus, it's not like I will enjoy it so shut up and make this easy for everyone".

"I said-". But he cut her off with his lips over hers. As fast as he did it, he pulled away and before she could say anything, he was practically dragging her to his car.

The day went by incredibly slowly, but at some point she became numb to holding hands and kissing with Charles. They would kiss and she would instantly start talking about something racing related, like Lance suggested she do to get rid of the awkwardness. Charles seemed okay with that. What was actually bothering her more was the fact that she spent the whole day without talking to Carlos. Charles noticed her looking for his teammate a few times but decided to ignore the raging fire it started inside his veins. He hated the idea that he had to date her, but he dated more the idea of her dating Carlos. He wasn't surprised when Carlos told him that he was going to date Y/N as a PR stunt, what surprised Charles was that they weren't actually dating for real. He could never understand why the Spaniard would refuse to date a woman like her. Charles found Y/N the most amazing woman, when she was nice, and she was definitely nice to Carlos. The older man explained that he never felt like that about her and it never made sense to Charles, after all, he did feel that way about her when she used to be nice to him. But that was a decade ago, and she had never been nice once to him since that time. Still, he felt pleased that Carlos wasn't a threat. She may have looked around for him, and liked him over Charles, but he didn't reciprocate her feelings, so Charles was safe. He was torn between a need for her to love him and constant reaction of disgust to everything she said.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Peanut? There are no cameras here". She said when he appeared at her room door.

"We need to talk". He made his way inside the room and she sighed, already too tired to complain.

"What do you want to talk about?". He sat on her bed and she went to the couch, not wanting to be near him.

"Do you like Carlos?". He decided that dancing around the question was pointless and she was kind of thankful that he cut to the chase.

"That's none of your business, Charles"

"Well, but we are fake dating, and he's my teammate, so I need to know". Lie, that wasn't the real reason, and she knew, but she let it slide.

"I don't like Carlos that way". She saw the accusatory look on his face and explained further. "We're best friends. Something happened. I don't know what. I think our fathers may have something to do with it. He told me that we can't hang out much for now. It's weird".

"Does this have anything to do with us getting together?". 'Failed act', Freud would say.

"We're not together Charles, we can't stand each other". He could pick up on her tired tone, maybe it was the right time to finally get her out of her shell.

"We used to. I remember that time. We had a great moment". But what he thought was going to be a comment that made her happy, completely backlashes at him.

"A great moment?! That's what it was for you? Just a great time?". She stood up, tears at the corners of her eyes and Charles suddenly felt the need to get up and hold her. He didn't, though. "That's why you just simply walked out and ignored me then? Because I was just another good time for you?"

"What? No, how did you even get there?! I never said that!". Now he was the one in a defensive mood.

"Your actions speak better than your words. You ignored me, after everything we did together, after how vulnerable I was with you. I gave you my virginity and you simply threw me away!". She was fully on crying and Charles just could take it anymore, he got up and pulled her to his body, hugging her as tightly as he could.

"I was embarrassed. I felt like I did it like shit. I was stupid and had zero experience. I came so fast because I liked you so much. I thought I let you down". He wasn't sure if she heard him, his words muffed by her hair and his sobs. "I thought you had not enjoyed that moment as much as I did and it was embarrassing, because I loved every second of it. I wanted to talk to you but your parents kind of scared me off from the house the next morning. It felt like I had done everything wrong. Then we saw each other at the race and you were so cold that I believed I was right. You then said those things... I- I just didn't know what to do".

"I shouldn't have said that. I was hurt and felt humiliated, I was wrong". She was grabbing at him as tightly as he was at her.

"We both were". He kissed her head and they broke apart. "I never stopped thinking about you. I always wondered what we could have been...". He let that linger in the air, the possibility. She took his hand and led him to the bed. Her actions spoke better than her words.

They woke up the next morning to someone pounding on the door. Charles quickly fell asleep again, but Y/N got up to tell the person at the other side to get lost. She was surprised when she found Carlos on the other side. The man didn't even say hi, he walked into the room, pushing her inside with him and slamming the door shut. The noise woke Charles up again, this time he did get up, furious when he noticed that his teammate was grabbing his girlfriend's arms with a python's grip. Carlos looked worried, but it was mixed with a bit of anger and something else Charles couldn't decipher. It wasn't until he spoke up that Carlos actually noticed his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing?!". The monegasque walked towards him, and Carlos noticed the lack of clothing, the black Calvin Klein's hanging from Charles' hips were the only thing keeping him decent.

"You two...". He suddenly smiled. "It was about time. A decade. Never met two people this slow".

"You're on thin ice, mate". Charles said, sternly.

"Then you're not going to like what I'm going to say next". Carlos took a deep breath. "I need us to fake-date, Y/N. I want to pressure my father. I think he's planning on setting me up with someone. But if he thinks we're dating even though he said no, he'll leave me alone". She looked at Charles, he didn't seem happy with the idea, but she also wanted to find out why her father was so against Carlos so suddenly.

"If- IF I do it, do you think we can make it happen sometime when both our parents are there?". Charles looked down at her frowning. "Remember last night, when I told you that I didn't know what happened? I want to find out".

"I don't know, mon Ange". She took his hand and his face relaxed a bit. He used to call her that, when they were younger, it felt right.

"I need to know, something feels off. This is the reason why we are together now. Over ten years of history fixed by one phone call by my father". He let out the breath he was holding, she was right. "Please, everything happens for a reason, Charlie".

"Okay, let's do this".

They had to wait until after the race. Carlos Sr. and Lawrence, Lance and Y/N’s father, were sitting at the hotel restaurant, chatting with frowns on their faces. Carlos and Y/N held hands and walked towards them, Charles following them close behind. He had a part in the plan, and he was ready to execute it perfectly, even if it was harder for him to act mad at Y/N now that they had made up. The older men looked up at their children when the three drivers approached them. To say that they looked horrified would be an understatement. Carlos Sr. seemed about to throw up, while Lawrence was simply shocked. The first part of the plan was done, keeping the element of surprise. Now to phase two: the lie itself. They sat at the table, Carlos in the middle of Charles and Y/N, his hand interlocked with hers resting on the table so their fathers could see them. It took the older men a moment to get the color back to their faces, but when they did, Lawrence went from white to red in a second.

"What the hell is this?". He asked, trying to keep the little cool he had left.

"We're dating, Mr. Stroll. We wanted you both to know". Carlos was the oldest, he took the lead.

"You can't". Carlos Sr. said with his voice rough thanks to the lump in his throat.

"That's not your decision, Dad". Everything was going as expected, but they had to admit that their fathers did look more disturbed than they had foreseen.

"It is. You won't date Carlos, you will date Charles as it was planned by the PR team and I don't want to hear anything else about it". That was Charles’ cue.

"I won't date her if she's in love with my teammate. We can barely stand each other, I won't get stuck into this mess for her". It hurt, but he had to say it like that. The other two didn't budge, and they had to pull out the last resort they had to press their fathers' buttons. Y/N saw their mothers walking to the table, so she took Carlos by the chin and started to get closer to him, ready to kiss him. Before they could make contact, Carlos Sr. was pushing them away.

"You can't do that, don't do that". He was almost losing it.

"Why?". She whispered, her eyes looking into his and a chill ran down her spine.

"You're half-siblings". It was Lawrence who said it. There was a long list of options that Carlos and Y/N had made of what could have happened, being siblings was not on the list.

"What?". Charles was as stunned as them. Lawrence and Carlos Sr. sighed and rested against the backs of the seat. Their wives, paralyzed behind them, were still unnoticed by the rest of the table.

"I had an affair with Lawrence's assistant. Of course your mother didn't know about it". Carlos Jr. had an expression impossible to read as his hand gripped Y/N tightly. "She got pregnant, asked me to leave your mother. I refused. She had the baby, Y/N. But then she got postpartum depression. She killed herself three weeks after giving birth".

"Y/N, you mother had just lost a pregnancy, no one knew, I found you in that house, alone, crying. It was the chance to give your mother a baby after the one she lost". Lawrence continued.

"You had the power and money to make it happen". Charles was officially angry, and it wasn't even his identity on the line. "What did you do with her mother? Where is she buried?".

"She was cremated. I took care of everything. I gave her the best there is". Carlos Sr.'s wife was looking at Lawrence's with pain in her eyes. She knew, all this time she knew that they were raising her husband's offspring and she hid it from her.

"Why did you let us become friends?". It was Carlos Jr.'s time to ask. 

"I wanted to keep in contact with her, watch her grow. You two got along so well, she ended up liking racing too. Everything led to you two in my life". Carlos Sr. let a few tears free. "Ten years ago, we considered letting you know the truth".

"Your mother and I discussed it, but then we saw that Charles was in the house, we kind of got rid of him to talk to you, but then you looked so upset. You got disqualified from the race for fighting with Charles. We understood that you were going through a lot, so we desisted". Lawrence added.

Carlos Jr.'s mother made her presence known and the three drivers took the chance to run away from the situation, knowing that the argument the two couples had was going to be too much to witness. The three ran to Y/N's room, crossing paths with Lance on their way there. Telling Lance that his sister was not his biological sister was one of the worst conversations they had. But they were all victims of so much, they found solace in sharing the tears together. They refused their parents' calls for the night, sending a text explaining that they needed time and that they would reach out when they felt like it. The four of them stayed in the room, chatting and calming themselves down. The irony of it all struck Y/N like a lighting and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny, mon Ange?". Charles asked and then kissed the back of her hand.

"If my parents hadn't scared you off that morning, we would have never discovered the truth". She explained, but her brothers didn't follow. "Charles walking out on me that morning is the reason why we fought that day in the race. Because of the fight in the race, we started hating each other. Because of the rivalry, I choose to fake-date Carlos instead of Charles. Because of my choice, Dad made the call and everything else followed".

"So, if you and Charles had made up that day...". Carlos started.

"We would have probably been together today, no need for PR, no need for your fathers to say anything".  Charles finished. All four laughed softly. "I was so sad that things didn't work out back then".

"Everything happens for a reason".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay, this is a LONG ASS STORY, sorry guys for not posting in months, I've been so caught up with work I literally thought I could get fired, but I had some time to edit this one. I hope you liked it. Remember to like, comment, reblog and all those beautiful things you do.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite: Blitzø

ft Loona doodles :) Alright first off sorry this took so long i got a job lol

A large part of his character is the fact that he used to be a clown, so I took a bit of two face in this design and accentuated the scarring on the left side of his face. I decided to give him the circular cheek bits to allude to the clown as well as ruffling his collar under the clothes. He’s the most complex design of the IMP so far, aside from Loona’s multiple spots, so i tried to keep the colors simple but distinct from M&M. I took the spikes and put them on his clothes – as in he puts on thorns to keep people away. I think a pink tone suits his more lusty character. 

Now as for his character... I'll be honest I struggled with him for a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted his character to go or how serious this rewrite would take the drama Viv wants to write. I adore writing deep characters, so I suppose I’m going to have to take The Office’s approach of being a comedy with moving parts. There are overarching plot lines in this version, that being Moxxie’s mafia ties coming back to haunt him, Blitzo’s past coming back to fuck him over in the form of everything about him, and Millie’s insecurities fucking her over when it counts. Maybe the series underlying theme is how running from your problems doesn’t work. Idk, because I also like the whole monster of the week type assassin gigs they do. I’ll make it work. 

So now, introducing the new and improved Blitzø! 

Blitzø is a mixed imp, his father being from Greed and his mother being from Lust. As such he’s a very poor mix of bad traits. He’s hypersexual (to the point of disturbing others), greedy as fuck (as he underpays Millie and Moxxie), is greatly attached to and possessive of those he likes (hence his smothering of Loona and stalking of M&M), and tends to think with his dick in most situations which get him into quite a few pickles (hehe pickle) 

Alright, so personality wise he is just about the same. He shits on others, is generally an ass and not very shy about it, but one thing I want to change is his delivery. This Blitzø is much more jovial about what he’s doing, putting on an act of being very charming and playful, even when he insults people. Ex, the line in the pilot when he mentions Moxxie crushing his dreams would include a very childish pout and a chuckle after. He plays the things he says off as jokes so it gives him an air of... idk like you don’t know when he’s ever being serious. 

He grew up in a circus in Greed along with his twin sister Barbie Wire (side note if Blitzo was my og creation he would have a pun/type name like Barbie does. Too tired to come up with one now, but mainly just because Barbie Wire is a much more creative name than fucking Blitzo) and his mother, who was dying day by day. His father was the ring leader and used his children as props to make money. Blitzo was a double act with Barbie Wire where they would do tricks on trained horses before Barbie started wanting to do trapeze and Blitzo was paired with Fizz instead to do acrobatics and tell jokes. 

Now since we don’t know what the fuck happened in Blitzo’s past (despite being on fucking season 2) I’m going to leave this bit open ended until Viv plays her cards then rewrite it into my story.  

So overall I’m not tweaking too much with Blitzo. Maybe instead of being a woobie who is like oh woe is me I suck he is just an overt asshole who sort of wants to be better but that’s too much work.  

His relationship with Stolas is a can of worms and I fucking hate worms. Alright, so we’re scrapping the childhood buddies thing, and going full force into what we all were shown in the pilot – this powerful demon is banging Blitzo in exchange for the Grimoire. Now real quick, why doesn’t Blitzo use Asmodean crystals? In this I'm making it so only lust demons can bond with crystals (bonding meaning only that demon can use them) and unbound crystals can’t leave Lust. So Blitzo would have to go to Lust and buy one, which is expensive as fuck and he was too broke at the time he struck the deal with Stolas. He’s planning on ditching Stolas as soon as he has enough cash to buy a crystal for IMP to use. 

So Stolas and Blitzo are both using each other, neither of them are like “omg I think he likes me”. Stolas wants sex to fuel his imp fetish and Blitzo wants the book. Blitzo has every intention of cutting this off as soon as he gets the crystal, and in his mind is only really indulging some rich brat demon. The issue comes when Blitzo finds himself actually liking Stolas – he likes the owl’s stupid spiels about literature and space and herbs, he likes that Stolas tells him helpful things with no prompting (like how certain herbs can treat injuries and things like that), and he finds himself liking Stolas’s company. Which is a big problem if he wants to cut the demon off, so he starts trying to get that in gear. This is also while being constantly reminded how unlovable he is and how he ruins everything he touches, but he’s conflicted because Stolas has started to treat him kindly and refer to him like an acquaintance rather than a sex toy. 

Any I'm tired af, going to bed. 

Oh, but before I go I just want to say that now that I’ve finished the IMP gang, I’m taking a minor break from reworking Helluva and will be posting some RWBY redesigns I’ve made because I fucking hate RWBY but at the same time it’s like my childhood. I’ll tag anything Rwby I'm doing as Rwby Rework if you’re interested, but don’t worry I’ll continue to do more viv/helluva/hazbin later this month! 

Thanks for reading <3

#anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #helluva boss critical #helluva boss redesign #helluva boss rewrite #helluva rewrite #vivziepop critical

[igotanidea]

Time off : Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Request: can you write something super fluffy with Dean? Like a day off of hunting or so?

Hope you'll like it anon.

Warning: slight innuendo, couple referrals to the events in the show, but no spoilers (seriously, if you don't know it, go check the "pudding scene" :D )

***

Dean Winchester was not afraid of ghost, monsters, angels, devils, genies or any other kind of monstrous creatures. How could he? The hunter blood in his veins was an effective method of keeping his fear at bay at all times.

But…..

Sometimes, very rarely, after a particularly hard case and fighting, he was brutally reminded that despite everything he was only human with all the weaknesses that came with it. Normally he would just shrug it off, patch himself up, get some sleep and move on to another mission. Keeping appearances of the rowdy boy, charming his way with the characteristic smirk and deflecting emotions by using sarcasm and dry humor.  More often than not it was his brother’s sake.  Someone had to do the dirty job, and he was not going to let Sammy get his hands dirty.

Or at least that’s what he thought when he and his brother started their crusade. But it’s been quite a few years ago and now he was just tired. Just that. And moving forward despite everything.  

He was used to being alone with the weight of the world on his shoulder, carrying it like some sort of martyr. No asking for help, not forming friendship or any real long-term relationship. One night stand? Sure, absolutely his style. Dragging a woman into his messed up life? Nah, thank you very much. Even those, who were fairly experienced in the hunting field could not withstand it and that was Dean’s greatest failure and guilt, even if he would never admit it out loud.  

And then, Y/N came into his life. Or rather, slammed into it.

And it was not in the way anyone may suspect. Y/N was not just another victim of supernatural occurrence who the brothers tried to safe. Quite the opposite actually.

 She was Sam’s friends from the law school. Only that Sam never graduated and she did. This fierce and sarcastic girl was one of the most insightful and brave people Dean has ever met. And in his job he met a lot so he had quite the comparison. And on top of all her skills, she was very knowledgeable of the specifics of Winchester’s legacy and family business. From the first day she met Sam she knew that the boy was hiding something, probably running from the past. Silent observation, a few tricky questions and some digging were enough to rim the younger brother and force him to confess. All in absolute confidentiality of course. They were best of friends, not afraid to confide in another and not afraid to just be themselves. Obviously Jess did not like it. But she had very little to say when she died in fire and Sam was dragged back into the past and joined his brother, leaving Y/N behind. For three years . And just like that, they met again by some crazy accident. Winchester’s found themselves investigating a case in one of the countless cities and much to their surprise found counselor Y/N doing pretty much the same. And to even bigger surprise she was doing crazily good, getting information neither of them ever could. They made quite the team, so she tagged along, joining brothers. Being a pain in the ass, as Dean was so kind to describe. Deep inside however, he liked that girl and perhaps was slightly jealous of the fact that she was so good in the same field as he. Sam went even as far to ask him if he was afraid of competition. A mistake he only made once. 

Y/N was dealing with all the inconveniences and obstacles with stubbornness and analytical mind. And Dean soon found himself falling for her. And worried about her safety. And acting like an idiot saying a lot of harsh and untrue words just to discourage her and made her leave for good. Guess what? She did not.

One day, Sam came back to the motel the three were staying in and walked right into a very heated argument, filled with screaming, door slamming and throwing things at each other. Followed by a week of not talking and sulking. It was impossible to work with those two. Good thing the younger Winchester decided to knock some sense into his brother’s head. Accidental, arranged meeting in the middle of the night resulted in shy kisses which quickly turned far less innocent when Y/N and Dean ended up in his motel room indulging in some other activities than hunting. Poor Sam had a really rough night and barely slept (thin walls, people!), but despite the teasing he gave the couple he couldn’t be more glad they finally resolved the case and confessed true feelings for each other.

And that backstory brings us to this day.

Sometimes Dean was just tired.  And she knew exactly when those moments were coming and were always ready to make him feel better.

“Ok, that is enough.” She advice in the most stern voice anyone has ever heard from her, walking into the bunker’s main room.

“We’re actually in the middle of something….” Sam started

“Get out Sam.”

“But…..”

“Do you really want to me to start figuring out what case you’re not telling me about. ‘Cause this is not gonna end up nice for you.” she warned

“We’re not hiding anything…..”

“Shall I remind you I’m a lawyer? You are skilled in deception Winchester, but you cannot fool me. Now out!” her index finger pointed at the door and Sam had no choice but to obey. Sometimes Y/N was scarier than any creature met during the years,  not that he was going to point that out.

“Are you on your period sweetheart?” Dean grinned

“I’m sorry?” she raised an eyebrow

“You look like you wanted to kill him. Cramps?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Nah. Thank you. I’ve had my fair share of dying and coming back to life.”

“Right. Cannot deny your experience in the field. Being raised from perdition by the angel of the god surely does ……”

‘Y/n”

“Oh what the hell now.” Y/n turned around only to be met with another extraterrestrial creature in a distinctive trench coat.

“Y/N” he repeated

“Well hello Cass.” She rolled her eyes “what brings you, well, down to Earth if I’m allowed to use that expression.

“You called my name.” he pointed out

“No I did not.” she opposed

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, even if I did, since when are you the one to answer the phone? From what I know you show up and disappear as you please.”

“that is not true” Castiel looked above her shoulder, eyes fixed on Dean.

“At least this time you keep personal space” Winchester pointed out, chewing on his sandwich

“Do you guys want me to leave you two alone? I can smell heavy bromance in the air….”

“What is bromance?” Cas tilted his head in confusion

“Y/N…..” Dean warned “don’t you dare…..”

“Why not? why don’t we educate our little wingy friend on some modern terms?”

“He’s big enough to do it by himself”

“Really?” the girl raised an eyebrow “are you speaking from experience”

“I don’t understand what you two are talking about….”

“Get out Cas!’ both of them shouted at him and with the slightest shrug, bit of confusion on his face and flapping of the wings disappeared.

“Do you think he is actually going to check what bromance is?” Y/n wondered

“Not a chance”

“That’s a relief. Knowing Cas he would want to experience it in real life.”

“He’s got undeniable chemistry with Crowley so how about that” Dean smirked but despite the irony and humor he was using he could not hide the tiredness and worry reflecting in his eyes. “You wanted something from me?”

“I just came to say hi.” She moved forward and snuggled next to him “haven’t seen you whole day.”

“Hi baby” he replied kissing her forehead “I’m sorry, but you know how it is. The work…..”

“You need rest, Dean.”

“I don’t…..”

“I’m not accepting refusal, honey” Y/N cupped his cheek “let me take care of you. Please. You’ve had enough. Let me get you to bed.”

“You just can’t wait to get your hands on me, hm? I;m not opposed to….”

“Shut up you idiot!” previous tenderness and care was replaced by a smack through his head

“Hey what happened to let me take care of you?” he whined

 “On second thought maybe you don’t need it that much if you’re up for dirty jokes.”

“Ok, point taken. I’ll be good, I promise. Scout’s word.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Honorary one.  Witness in the person of Bobby.”

“Sold” she smiled and resumed doting over her boyfriend “My poor boy” she moved closer and locked arms around him, hugging so tight, so close, with so much love and affection. “we can just stay here.” Her voice was partially muttered since her face was buried in his chest. “we don’t need to do anything. Just be. ”

“I want nothing more but …..”

“No, Dean. No buts.” She opposed shaking her head “We’ve cracked 12 cases in the last two weeks. Saved hell lot of people….”

“Why does it still feel not enough? Like I could do more……”

“Dean…..” she whispered looking up, cupping his cheek and brushing it softly.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m being grumpy.”

“What’s new” she grinned “guess I’m not the one on period after all.”

“You should have left when you had a chance….”

“Sure. Unfortunately one stubborn bad boy made it impossible.”

“Bad boy, huh? What’s his crime?”

 “Heart stealing.” She whispered meeting his eyes

“I’m sure he keeps in the safe place where it can’t get hurt.” Dean moved his head slightly to kiss the palm of the hand still resting on his cheek “I could never……”

“I know.” she assured

“Besides, it’s not stealing if you captured mine. I would rather call it an exchange.”

“I like the sound of that. “ she smiled lightly “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“ Let me save you today. For once, let me be the one to protect you from the monsters in your mind.”

“It’s not…..” he started but she did not let him finish.

“Just let me…..” she whispered again and her voice held so many emotions all he could do was nod in agreement. Giving in to her completely. “Come with me”.

All that happened after seemed like a beautiful dream he did not have in weeks. Intertwining their fingers Y/N led him to the coach on the other side and made him lay down, never ever stopping gentle caress on his back and shoulders. It was so comforting and calming that when she moved away to get the blanket Dean grabbed her wrist, eyes pleading not to leave him.

“Relax, baby” she kissed top of his head, her heart breaking a little “I’m right here with you. Not going anywhere. Just can’t risk us getting cold.”

“Us?” he frowned a bit

“I just told you I’m not leaving.” She laughed lightly stretching as far as possible to reach for the rug without falling of the bed and without letting go of his hand “So yes, us. Think we can fit under that?”

“I think you will have to get closer to me.” He muttered, arms wrapping around her making her squeal.

“How… how close?”

“Closer.”

“Closer than what?”

“Just closer.” He whined lying head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.  

“Ok.” She responded, shifting positions, one hand on his back, rubbing circles there, other running through his hair. “I love you Dean.”

“I know sweetheart….”

“Say it back, you fool….” She pleaded, absolutely overwhelmed by the peace his presence brought her. Just him, doing nothing. Relying on her, trusting her, not having this emotional wall that separated them from each other way too often. Vulnerable in her embrace, surrendering to her love. Happy tears sprung from her eyes and as one warm drop landed on his cheek he looked up immediately.

“Baby? You know I do love you, please don’t cry…..” slight panic creeping on his face.

“I’m not sad, honey. Just… having you like this…..you don’t even know what it means to me.”

“I love you” he whispered leaning forward “I love you.” chaste kiss on her lips “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I know.” she smirked “Now, sleep. I’ll keep demons at bay.”

“What about nosy angels?”

“I think I can handle.”

“How about humans?”

“Those are easiest to get rid of. Have you ever heard that song dumb ways to do? Quite an inspiration in desperate times” she laughed and the sound made him pull her in more. Just some time off with her was all he needed and he was going to enjoy this the maximum.  

“Can we have some pie later?” he mumbled

“How about pudding? Bet that brings good memories?” she teased referring to the craziest thing he did back in the days.

“Please…..” he groaned “don’t remind me….”

“Oh, I will never let you live it down.”

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you

[myesmi]

GENTLE MOMENTS WITH THEM. 𓂅 ˖ ࣪ ( headcanons )

cw. soft / gentle moments with michael and thomas ( sep ) <3, established relationships, gn! reader, etc.

note. i don’t know, i just really wanted to write headcanons, so this is what i came up with! i was going to do jealousy headcanons, or when the reader gets catcalled or something, but i needed something more simple since i’m dead tired rn.. <3 hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs appreciated!

requests are open. masterlist.

MICHAEL MYERS.

any time spent with michael is generally quiet, mostly due to how mute he is. the loudest he gets is a confirming grunt, or an annoyed huff.

however, on the extremely rare occasion, those quiet moments hold a different atmosphere. almost.. soft, or gentle, in some capacity.

it’s strange to call such a silent, intimidating, stalker of a man ‘gentle’, but in your heart you knew it was his intentions that spoke the words he wouldn’t.

you roused in the middle of the night, lazily sitting yourself up at the sudden appearance of your tall, violent lover. it wasn’t unusual for him to disappear for hours on end and show up in the middle of the night.

he stood in the frame of your bedroom door, mask on, however he stood in a fitting black t-shirt and simple dark pajama pants that you gifted him last christmas.

…he used to sleep in his coveralls, but you quickly forced him to wear some form of pajamas ( obviously after being well established in the relationship where you were able to twist his arm in such ways, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so receptive ).

you barely remember the sleepy smile that formed on your lips, giving michael a little wave before you found him standing at your side where you sat on the bed.

his chest stilled briefly, as if he was holding his breath, and his gaze was directed at you, observing. despite how you couldn’t see his eyes through the mask’s eye holes due to how dark it was in the room ( the only light being the moonlight that filtered through the window blinds ), you could feel his piercing gaze crawl over your sleep-addled features.

and suddenly, one large, rough hand patted the top of your head. his palms were littered with callouses, the meat of his palm below his fingers tenderly ached from how tightly he tended to grip his knife. and yet, his touch was somehow comforting. a sort of prize you thought, as michael wasn’t one known for tender caresses and loving touches.

his large hand drifted from the top of your head to your neck, his fingers brushing along your jugular in a feather-light trail.

and as soon as the soft moment had come, it was gone. michael pulled away, turning and leaving your bedroom. you knew that you’d fall back asleep before he would lay himself down next to you, and you knew he’d be up and gone before you woke in the morning.

but gentle moments like these reminded you of why you fell for the man that everyone else deemed a monster

THOMAS HEWITT.

unlike michael, gathering soft, quiet moments with thomas wasn’t too rare. he was, to you, a texan gentle giant.

however, the real challenge was getting him alone in the first place for more than half an hour.

you understood how important his family was to thomas, and how needed he was around the family ‘farm’. the man had many physically demanding and time consuming daily chores that he carried out in order for his family to live the reserved, happy little lives they did.

and that often resulted in your only shared time alone being when you wake in the mornings and when you sleep during the nights. in short, it wasn’t ideal.

however, being as thomas was completely wrapped around your little finger, it never took too much convincing to have him all to yourself for the evening on certain occasions.

you sat comfortably on the recently repaired front porch, enjoying the humid evening under the slow sunset, able to sit comfortably in the shade of the house as the night started to cool.

thomas wasn’t too far away, and you watched carefully ( and.. enjoyably ) as thomas worked on one of the last tasks of the day. he was slowly cleaning out the large old barn that sat on their property, full of rusted old farming equipment and spare heavy car parts that the hewitts simply did not need any more. and so, he took it upon himself to, over the course of the week, clean out all the junk.

and boy.. was it a show for you. your tommy was by far the strongest man you knew, both mentally and physically. and watching your big texan hunk lift heavy metal parts as if they weighed nothing?

and thomas knew you were watching him. a part of the man enjoyed showing off in front of you. he loved how hot your face grew, how you shifted in your seat, your beautiful eyes staring him down lovingly ( and hungrily ).

you smiled as your thomas finished up for the day and made his way to the porch, wiping his big hands on the front of his work apron to rid himself of the dirt and old car grease. you scooted yourself over, offering him room to sit down on the swing next to you, already having a glass of sweet tea to offer out to him, figuring that he was no doubt breathless from his work, no matter how effortless he made it look.

he took a heavy seat next to you, gratefully taking the tea from your hand, replacing it with his own large hand, interweaving his fingers with your own. thomas was always still shy when it came to you, however intertwining your hands together was like second nature now. it was his way of saying hello.

both of your hands, interlocked, landed comfortably on your thigh. thomas’ fingers were still somewhat grimy, yet it didn’t bother you. you comfortably leaned into his plush side, resting your head against his broad chest, right under his masked chin.

you looked up, admiring his dark locks of hair that framed his face and ever so slightly dipped in front of his dark, lovely eyes. you have a warm smile, before you both simply enjoyed the silence together, staring out at the beautiful texas sunset, knowing that you had no place you’d rather be.

© myesmi . . . do not steal, translate, or repost.

#myesmi writes !! #horror #horror slasher #slashers #slashers x reader #michael myers #thomas hewitt #leatherface #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre

[octoberclidan]

We're Here for You

Request: what about a TFW x reader where is more sensitive & has trouble going to bed alone after hunts? not nightmares, but just the need for safety. she seeks out each member individually, to ask if she can sleep in their bed. later, they find out that you’ve asked each of them, & you all just end up sharing one bed?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Story

It wasn't that bad of a hunt. No one had broken any bones or been hurt too badly, just a few scrapes and bruises. No one had died either, apart from the witch who had been causing trouble, so all in all it was actually a pretty successful hunt. Still, [Y/N] was disappointed when both Sam and Dean wanted an early night, and she knew Cas would get suspicious and ask why she was still sitting with him and not going to bed when it got late enough. The witch, although they'd killed him, had put up a fight. He'd been using a curse that he'd designed himself to make people hallucinate their worst fears, making them to pay up for a 'cure'. Knowing about how real monsters were, [Y/N] wasn't even sure what her worst fear was, but she was sure she didn't want to experience it, whatever it was.

She was sitting in the library with Cas typing up some notes from the hunt, trying to put off going to bed for as long as she could, when she noticed Cas staring at her. When she looked up to meet his eyes, his eyebrows were furrowed. "What?" She asked, hoping he'd shrug and go back to his research. She wasn't so lucky though.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Just a little".

"You should get some sleep [Y/N], it's important". He said, now looking concerned.

She sighed and looked away, a little embarrassed, before she looked at him again. "Can I tell you something Cas? Like, it's a bit embarrassing so I'd prefer if you didn't tell the boys". He closed his book and angled himself so he was looking straight at her.

"Of course, you can tell me anything. You know that". Cas' look of concern made her smile. She had never had a falling out with him, whether on a case or not. She always found him easy to get along with, and he seemed to care about her just as much as he cared about the Winchesters.

"I don't like being alone after hunts. I know I'm a hunter, I know I'm in the safest place I could possibly be and that nothing is going to 'get' me, but still. I dunno, I just can't sleep after them, like I feel anxious and a bit paranoid that something followed us home, even though rationally I know nothing did. So, I'd prefer to just stay up and sit with you".

"[Y/N]-" Cas started.

"I know it's stupid and doesn't make any sense, but it's just how I feel. We really don't need to discuss it. Is it okay if I just sit here with you?"

"It's not stupid. I understand". He offered her a reassuring smile and she felt herself relax slightly with relief. "But you really should get some sleep, it was a long hunt". Just as quickly as the relief came, it was gone again and replaced with worry. Cas pushed his books back and stood up before pushing his chair into the table, and she looked up at him confused. He held out a hand to her, and she hesitated but took it, allowing him to pull her up. "Come with me". He turned around and began to walk out of the library and she cautiously followed behind him. They walked past her room, and he stopped outside his room. While Cas didn't sleep unless there was something wrong with his grace, he still had his own room. Sam and Dean had insisted he have a place that was just his. There wasn't much in it, just a bed, an empty closet, a desk with some books that Sam had recommended, and some tapes that Dean had made for him. He pushed open the door and walked inside, turning around to gesture to [Y/N] to come in with him.

"What are we doing?" She asked as she stepped into the room.

"You're going to sleep, I'm going to watch over you so you don't have to worry about anything". She felt her heart swell, his expression was so genuine, as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with her not wanting to be alone. The thought of telling her that she was a hunter and shouldn't be afraid hadn't even crossed his mind. The only thing he cared about in this moment was that she should get some sleep. Expecting him to pull over the chair from the desk, she was surprised when he took off his trenchcoat, loosened his tie, and began to untie his shoe laces. "You should take off your shoes too, you'll fall asleep more easily if you're comfortable". He said as he pulled back the covers and sat on the bed.

"You're.. you're going to sleep too?" She asked as she kicked her boots off and walked over to him.

"No, I don't need sleep, and I wouldn't be able to watch out for monsters if I was asleep too. Dean says it's easier to sleep when he's holding someone, so you should hold me". She smiled at him, she wasn't used to people being so thoughtful for her. She slid into the bed, and he pulled the covers up over her shoulders. He slipped his arm under her shoulders and pulled her closer so her head was on his chest, and she wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Thank you, Cas". She yawned and tightened her grip on him. She felt completely safe, which had never happened so soon after a case.

"Sleep [Y/N], I'll be here when you wake up".

***

[Y/N] was sitting in the bunker's kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. It was late, too late to still be up. She had her head propped up on her hand as she lazily picked up spoonfuls, trying to make it last as long as possible so she could once again avoid going to bed. The hunt she'd just got back from had been a wendigo, one of her absolute least favourites. She actually usually chose to stay in the bunker when they suspected it was a wendigo, just research for the boys while they handled it, but they hadn't known what it was until they got there this time. It wasn't a great hunt, there had been several local victims before they found it. Even though [Y/N] had been the one to kill it in the end, it didn't feel like much of a victory. Cas had had to leave halfway through the hunt, some issue in heaven, and that had left them without his safety net. If any of them had sustained serious injuries, they were a long way from any hospital. While Sam and Dean didn't seem to be affected by this, it left [Y/N] even more on edge than usual.

"You're still up?" She heard a gruff voice and she dropped her spoon in surprise, the metal clang echoing throughout the kitchen. Her head snapped towards the door, where she saw a very sleepy looking Dean, dressed in his dressing gown. She quickly grabbed her spoon and cleared her throat, hoping he didn't see how jumpy she was.

"Oh, um, just hungry I guess". He walked over and sat down opposite her.

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked, grabbing a handful of cereal from the box and popping it into his mouth. She just shrugged and pushed around some of her now very soggy cereal around her bowl. "It was a tough hunt, huh?" He asked and she nodded.

"Yeah".

"You got it though, you did good". He said and she gave him a small smile. Dean wasn't one for chick-flick moments, but he'd always hand out a compliment if he thought someone deserved one.

"They creep me out, the wendigos". She said, letting go of her spoon and deciding she'd had enough. Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, because they're creepy. I'm glad we don't come across many of them".

"Me too". They sat in silence for a moment. [Y/N] had been hoping that Cas would turn up at some stage, finished with whatever was going on in heaven, and then she could ask him to stay with her again, but there was no sign of him. Knowing that Dean was going to ask her why she wasn't going back to her room, she sighed and decided to just ask him instead. "Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Could I... I mean, would it be weird if... if you don't mind..." She was awkward, she didn't quite know how to ask him what she wanted to. He gave her a confused look, so she took a deep breath and tried again. "Look, I know it's silly, but I hate being alone after hunts. I just can't sleep and I don't feel comfortable after them. I don't feel safe". She could feel her cheeks heating up as she was leading up to asking him. "Would you mind if I slept in your room tonight?"

"Not at all". His answer was so quick it took her a moment to register it. "Don't tell Sam but I don't sleep well after hunts either, nightmares, you know?" He took another handful of cereal and shoved it into his mouth before closing the box. He grabbed her bowl and walked over to leave it in the sink, before turning back to her. "Come on". She stood up and followed him out of the room towards the bedrooms. They were quiet as they walked past Sam's room, and Dean ushered her into his room before closing the door behind him. "Sorry about the mess". He said as he pushed a pile of clothes off the unused side of his bed. He took off his dressing gown and threw it over his desk chair, leaving him in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He got into his bed and held up the covers, motioning for [Y/N] to join him. She did, though she made sure to leave a gap between them. "I don't bite". He chuckled, and she looked over at him.

"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable, this is your space".

"You're always welcome in my space. Come here". He held his arm out and she moved over to be closer to him. He wrapped both of his arms around her waist and pulled so half of her body was on top of his, one of her legs between both of his. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and she closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat below her. "I wouldn't do this with just anyone, you know. Have a soft spot for you". She smiled to herself and listened as he began to quietly hum something, the thoughts of the wendigo long forgotten as she quickly fell asleep.

***

She'd been lying in bed for two hours, her eyes trained on her bedroom door, thoughts of vampires barging in. Sam and [Y/N] had arrived back to the bunker after taking out a nest of vamps that turned out to be bigger than they'd originally thought, and it had left her pretty shaken up. She'd killed several herself before one dug his teeth into her shoulder, and Sam had taken out the rest. He'd cleaned her wound and put in a couple of stitches before they'd left the town, but it was still aching. She wanted nothing more than to ask Cas or Dean to stay with her for the night, but they were out on a hunt of their own and wouldn't be back for a few days.

She had been debating with herself whether or not to go and find Sam. She knew she'd fall asleep if he was there, but she also knew that Sam liked his privacy even more than Dean did, so she'd been putting it off. Her exhaustion but inability to fall asleep eventually got the better of her though, and she got out of bed. She opened her door and walked down the hallway, the only noise being the quiet patting of her feet against the floor. When she got to Sam's room, she knocked and waited for an answer. She felt vulnerable out in the corridor alone, especially since she knew Dean and Cas weren't around. It was eerily quiet, and she started to worry when there was no answer from Sam. Not being able to take the silence anymore, she quietly opened his door and looked inside. He was in bed, sound asleep. She felt a little bit guilty knowing she'd have to wake him up, it had been a tough hunt for him too, but she needed to.

"Sam?" She whispered, walking over to the side of his bed. "Sam?" She tried again, this time gently shaking his shoulder. He woke with a start and quickly looked around the room before his eyes focused on [Y/N].

"[Y/N]"? He asked, his voice low with sleepiness. He rubbed his eyes and glanced over at his clock, confused by the time. "What's wrong? Are your stitches okay?" He sat up in bed.

"Yeah they're fine. Sorry for waking you".

"Don't worry about it, what's up? Can't sleep?" He asked and she shook her head. "You wanna sleep in here?"

"Would that be okay?"

"Of course, here, lie down with me". He moved over in the bed, and she got under the covers with him, surprised by how warm it was. "Big spoon or little spoon?" He asked and she giggled. "Hey, I know I'm big but I can make a good little spoon when I want to". He chuckled.

"Are you a good big spoon too?" She asked and he nodded.

"The best. Turn around, I've got you". She turned to face away from Sam, and she felt his arm snake around her waist, pulling her close against his chest, his head resting on hers. "Do you feel like talking about it? Whatever is keeping you up?" She could feel the vibrations of his voice against her back.

"Do you ever... feel unsafe after a hunt?" She asked, and there was a pause before he answered.

"Yeah, yeah I do sometimes. Especially if it's something new. I've been in this my entire life, so I'm used to most things, but when we face something new, all I want to do is stay up and research everything I can possibly find so we can be better at killing it the next time. I stayed up for three days straight once after a hunt when we lost people, Dean was worried about me. We need sleep, it's important. If you're not well rested then you could make mistakes, so sleep is good. Sleep helps keep us safe". He snuggled in closer to her, she could feel his gentle breathing on the top of her head. He began to tell a story about one of the first hunts he and Dean ever took on without John, and as interested as she was, his low voice and the warmth of his body quickly sent her to sleep, feeling completely safe wrapped up with him.

***

"[Y/N]?" She was nearly asleep on the couch in the Dean Cave when Sam's voice woke her up.

"Hmm?" She asked. They'd arrived home from a simple salt and burn earlier that day, and had been lounging around watching movies all evening.

"I think you're falling asleep there". Dean chuckled from beside her.

"What? No, no I'm awake". She sat up and straightened herself out.

"You looked like you were sleeping". Cas said from his chair. "You must be tired from the hunt".

"I'm actually fine, I think I'd be up for another movie". She said as she stifled a yawn.

Sam, Dean, and Cas all shared a knowing look. "[Y/N], can you come with us for a second?" Sam asked as he stood up. Dean also stood up and held out his hand to her. She looked at it for a second before furrowing her eyebrows at them.

"Why?"

"Just take it, come on". Dean said, waving his hand in front of her. She looked over at Cas who gave her a reassuring smile, and she took Dean's hand. He pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Sam led the way out of the room, Cas following behind them all. They walked past her room, Cas' room, and both Sam and Dean's rooms, before stopping outside one of the spare bedrooms.

"Now, if you're not comfortable with this, just tell us and we'll forget about it, alright? But just know that we are all comfortable with this, we came up with the idea as a group". Sam explained.

"Okay..." She was apprehensive, but Dean gently squeezed her shoulder and she tried to relax as Sam opened the door. Inside was a large bed, much larger and much newer than the beds in the other rooms. The desk and bedside table were all covered in photos of the team, some old, some new. Photos of all four of them smiling, photos of them all dressed up for a case, photos taken at restaurants, bars, motels. All happy memories. "What is all of this?"

"This". Dean gestured to the entire room. "Is our post-hunt room". He grinned at her, but she was still confused.

"Look, we all know you don't feel safe immediately after a hunt, and we know that you do feel safe when at least one of us is around. We also don't always feel great after a hunt, and we feel better when you're around". Sam smiled at her.

"So we decided that after hunts, if we are all in the bunker, we'll spend the night together so we can properly rest". Cas finished explaining. "So you can sleep". She didn't really know what to say, she never would have expected the three of them to come up with something like this and actually do it. She looked up at all three of them, all smiling at her, all hopeful that she'd agree. She really did love all three of them, and this just boosted that love for them even more.

"This is.. amazing. It's so thoughtful. I can't believe you organised this". She laughed a little, looking around at all of the photos. "We're all going to sleep in here?"

"Well, I'll just rest. But yes, we will be here with you all night". Cas said.

"How are we all going to fit?" She asked, eyeing Sam who was practically the length of the bed, and Dean and Cas who weren't much smaller than him.

"Don't worry, we've figured it out". Dean winked at her. "Want to show her Sammy?" Sam walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back. He slid in, and maneuvered himself so he was lying on his back right in the centre of the bed. "You're next Sweetheart". Dean pushed her gently towards the bed, and Sam opened his arms.

"You're gonna have to lie on top of me. I promise I'm softer than I look". Sam smiled at her. "C'mere". She crawled onto the bed and over Sam, laying down over him. She wrapped her arms around his back and he wrapped his around her. She lay her head on its side on top of his chest, and their legs tangled together. She looked up as Cas and Dean walked around to either side of the bed and got in on each side of her and Sam. Dean wrapped an arm around her waist, and Cas wrapped an arm around her waist too, above Dean's and below Sam's. Dean pulled the covers up over all of them before leaning up to kiss her forehead.

"Go to sleep, we're here for you and you're safe here". He whispered to her. She was completely cocooned by all three of them, surrounded by the best hunters in the world and an angel. There was no way anything was getting to her like that. She was completely safe. Between Sam reaching up to stroke her hair, Dean stroking her arm, and Cas tightening his grip around her, her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. She did manage to whisper an 'I love all three of you' before she finally drifted off, and fell asleep smiling as all three of them said it back.

The end

#supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fanfic #dean x y/n #supernatural #sam winchester fic #sam x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester comfort #castiel x reader #castiel fanfiction #castiel fluff #castiel #caring #spn comfort #supernatural comfort #supernatural fluff #fluffy #dean fluff #sam winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic

[bookished]

🦋 ( a second part for the collection of serial killer x fbi agent starters. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips. tag me when you use any!

"You know, Agent, we're not so different, you and I." "Don't even try to justify your actions. There's no comparison between us."

"I've always admired your determination, Agent. It's what makes this game so thrilling." "This isn't a game. It's justice, and it's long overdue."

"I have information that could help you catch the real monsters out there, Agent. But it comes at a price." "I'll never make a deal with the devil, no matter how tempting."

"You must be getting tired of cleaning up after me, Agent. Tell me, does the blood ever wash off your hands?" "My hands are clean, but yours will never be."

"You should be grateful, Agent. Without me, your career would be rather uneventful." "I'll be even more grateful when you're behind bars for the rest of your life."

"I've left you clues all along the way, Agent. Can you solve the puzzle before the next victim falls?"

"I've left breadcrumbs for you, Agent, but can you follow the trail to the truth?" "I'll follow your trail all the way to your downfall."

"I did what I did to expose the darkness within humanity, Agent. To make them see their own potential for evil." "Your twisted philosophy won't save you from the consequences of your actions."

"I have information on a new threat, Agent. Let's make a deal. You help me, and I help you." "I'll never trust a word that comes out of your mouth."

"You're so close, Agent, and yet so far. Can you decipher the riddle before it's too late?" "Your games won't stop me from catching you."

"You got lucky this time, Agent. But luck can't protect you forever." "I don't rely on luck. I rely on my training and my determination to stop you."

"Your profile of me was surprisingly accurate, Agent. Almost like you know me better than I know myself." "I studied monsters like you so I could bring them to justice."

"Do you remember the first time we met, Agent? I knew then that we were destined for something special." "I remember, and I remember that it was the start of your downfall."

"You're too late, Agent. The next victim is already gone. It's a shame you couldn't save them." "I won't let you claim another victim. You're not leaving here."

"You must get lonely, waiting here all night. I can keep you company, Agent, if you'd like." "I'd rather be lonely than in your company."

"Agent, I've been patient. I've watched you. Now, I have a proposal that will benefit both of us." "I'm not interested in your twisted proposals. You'll pay for your crimes."

#prompts #writeblr #romance prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #angst prompts #dialogue prompt #prompt list #writing prompt #fanfic prompts #au prompt #dark romance prompts #drama prompts #fic prompt #criminal au #otp prompts #otp prompt #otp dialogue #otp ideas #imagine your otp #dialogue rp #indie rp #city rp #crime rp #rp prompts #uservolkova

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: It’s a prologue of our girl Y/N, you’re six at the time of this prologue.

Content warning: arguing

word count: 817 (it’s short cause it’s a prologue and also i didn’t want the next part be to long)

18 years ago…

“We can’t keep moving them around! They can’t live like this!” I heard mom argue as me and my older brother watched through the cracked door.

“Well there’s something wrong with your daughter. If she hadn’t killed half of the town's corn field we wouldn’t be in this mess” My dad yelled, venom sharp on his tongue. I shrunk into myself, ashamed of what he brought up even though it was an accident and I didn’t mean to do anything.

“You know it was an accident! Neither of us thought she would be this strong at a young age, she doesn't know how to control her abilities yet. And she’s your daughter too!” mom snapped back.

“Well because of her accident we have to leave! Now go I'm tired of this arguing you have to start teaching her she can’t do this again” dad responded huffing. Me and my brother ran off back to our bedrooms where we were supposed to be in the first place.

I jump into bed, the covers whooshing as I scurry underneath them, my moms footsteps sounding just outside my door. She enters my room, the wooden floor creaking beneath her, a warm smile on her face despite the fact she was arguing just moments ago.

“My restless girl” she spoke sweetly, seeing me still awake and sitting up in bed. She sat on the edge of my bed running a soothing hand in my hair as she asked “How ‘bout I tell you a story?”

I nodded my head vigorously in response.

She laughed softly, everything with her was always soft. When I grow up I want to be like her.

She motioned for me to lay down, I complied as she began her story.

“Once upon a time there was a young witch, she was pretty and kind. But her family was mean and everything that people believed witches to be, wicked. She knew she never wanted to be like them for she was good and never did a single wicked thing. And one day, many years later, her family decided to do something that was so horrible that it would hurt everyone in town.

So when she met this charming man called a hunter who came to stop her family she agreed to help. She loved her family of course but she couldn’t allow them to do anything bad to the town she loved. Her and this hunter didn’t get along at first, for hunters took down monsters and they never figured that a witch of all things could be good. But even through their fighting they knew they had to trust each other, but once the job was completed they found they didn’t want to leave each other.

So they went on the road together and eventually settled down and had two kids of their own who they promised would always remain good.”

When my mom finished the story I knew it was about her and dad and I was already given the story of hunters and monsters, I knew monsters were real and I knew I was one of them. But even so I still asked her “Do people still hate us?, do they hate me?”

I knew my mom was a witch, that I'm a witch, that we had to be careful around hunters, and that other hunters didn’t like dad much because he fell in love with a witch.

“Oh sweetheart…hunte- people have a hard time seeing things differently when they’ve only known it to be one way. So they don’t understand that we’re good, but that’s okay! because that just means we have to be extra nice!” she explained.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the corn” I responded with my lip quivering, feeling bad for what I did.

“I know baby, me and you are gonna do some learning. How does that sound?” she asked before scrunching her nose and leaning down to tickle me.

My laughs danced around the room and I knew that everything would be okay.

I believed that notion even when I heard dad say the following day, “I know someone in Kansas he’ll help.”

I continued to believe it when everything we owned was placed in a truck headed to somewhere foreign, when we arrived and unpacked, when we met the guy my dad was talking about. And even when he looked at my mom and I with little trust.

But mom was right.

Everything was okay, because after a couple of months of worrying about the Winchesters, our ‘neighbors’ who lived on the other side of town, aka the guy my dad knew, they finally trusted us and I had become good friends with his two sons Sam and Dean.

As I grew older I learned how to hone my abilities and on my moms death bed I promised her I'd be a good witch just like her.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #romance #prologue #backstory #winchester x reader #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x f!reader #mystery #supernatural season 1 #supernatural x reader #the hunter and the witch

[13thdoctorposts]

At some point 13 fans needs to actually put the numbers to paper on the era's audience numbers, because my recollection is that they're perfectly on par and at times even better than Capaldi's and several of the latest specials. I'm tired of haters whining about 'everyone hated it' when they mean misogynists targeted it and boycotted it from the very instance of a rumour that 13 would be a woman.

Peter Nolan from Blogtor Who did a post on the numbers after the airing of Power of the Doctor, in one section of the post he compares the Whittaker and Capaldi eras…

“It’s remarkable then, that the Whittaker era of Doctor Who is overall on course not only to retain the audience it was given, but actually very slightly grow it. The average Thirteenth Doctor was watched by 4.67m viewers, up 0.12m (2.6%) on the 4.55m average of the Twelfth Doctor. It’s median viewing figure of 4.21m, meanwhile, is 0.34m (7.4%) lower than Capaldi’s, representing the boost Whittaker’s average is given by the large audiences for her first series. But overall, we haven’t seen Doctor Who just do a respectable job all things considered. Rather, it actually got ratings that would be good a decade ago.”

You can check out the whole article here https://www.blogtorwho.com/doctor-who-power-of-the-doctor-viewing-figures/?amp=1

As you can see the Whittier era did quite well especially when considering it had to fight to get through the Pandemic, which people seem to like to act like isn’t a big deal with their revisionist history of how difficult that time actually was. Not only were millions dying and getting sick, people were losing their jobs and lock downs were keeping people at home and a number of parents learnt how hard it was to home school your child even with a teacher on zoom, some while also having to work full time at home. This isn’t to mention the ridiculous amount of restrictions on how they could make the show and keep everyone safe. Sadly they also just didn’t have budget, it was why they needed Disney to come in. In the Who Corner to Corner podcast Chibs talks about how he wanted to do a new years special after Flux but was told there was no budget and he couldn’t do it but he wanted there to be a new year special so he ask if he used monster from the cupboard (a couple daleks they had sitting there) a warehouse and only 2 guest stars could he do it and they still told him they didn’t think so but he told them they were doing it and then we got Eve of the Daleks, one of my fav episodes of the run.

This goes to show the show was struggling to afford to make episodes it had no real money for marketing. If series 12 and Flux got the marketing series 11 did of course we would have seen even bigger numbers but Chibs stated in his Radio Free Skaro podcast from Gally One in 2023 that the only marketing budget they had after series 11 was marketing that could be done on the BBC that’s extremely limiting. They also didn’t have a brand manager unlike all previous eras. If you can afford a brand manager you’re not going to choose to not have one and having one probably would have also help quite a bit.

It’s not 2008 anymore, even Tennent couldn’t pull his 2008 numbers and that was with the big Disney budget to make the show and market the show, and they had a year to market the show and the most well known Doctor, so considering that vs what Chibs had to work with the Whittaker era is a solid era of Doctor Who. It just came at a time when the Budget was struggling, and the TV landscape was changing along with a campaign to try and destroy it before it began simply because they chose a Woman to be the Doctor, as demonstrated by the fact the BBC had to release a press statement backing Whittakers casting and the change to a Female Doctor. And that did have a snow ball effect of people picking everything apart to an insane level they do not do with any of the episodes from the male Doctors episodes a lot of which could be seen as far more problematic.

All this to say could the numbers had been better? Yes, if they had budget to market the show the way it needs to be marketed in a landscape with a million competing shows on far more streaming services than there were regular channels back in the day. But did the show do well with the limited resources it had. Also Yes.

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor #thirteen #13 #13 era

[sidekick-hero]

✨ fic writing review 2023 ✨

tagged by my homies (and as always fashionably late to the party): @judasofsuburbia @steddieas-shegoes @steddieasitgoes and @thefreakandthehair 💜💜💜💜

rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

words & fics

263,365 words published

40 fics published

Finished 3 multi-chaptered fics

top 5 fics by kudos

You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some): Pure, self-indulgent smut. My love letter to Steve Harrington's, well, everything. He's a goddamn tease in this and Eddie is along for the ride. Quite literally.

Louder: While laying in bed, the two of them can't help but overhear their upstairs neighbors going at it rather loudly. Eddie turns to Steve after a while, and asks, You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance? And that they do.

I’m tired of asking to settle the debt: my first ever steddie fic, written for Lex first seasonal challenge. 5 times Eddie warms Steve's hands and that one time Steve returns the favor.

Run Boy Run: Another self-indulgent smutty piece. I'm a passionate runner, and so is Steve in this one. Turns out, he had been running towards Eddie all along.

 Will you cleanse me with pleasure?: The obligatory monsterfucker, pardon me, monster love making fic. Eddie is a lake monster with way more appandages than Steve can handle. Or can he? 

fandom fic events in 2023

@thefreakandthehair's holiday challenge (2022) but finished 2023: I’m tired of asking to settle the debt

lex's spring challenge: Catch me like the falling rain

Steddie Big Bang with @legitcookie: Suitcase of Memories

Kinktober: we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined (also Eddiemonth), on the tip of my tongue, on top of my thighs, tell me it's love, tell me it's real and wear me like a locket around your throat (last two with @yournowheregirl)

steddiemas and steddieholidaydrabbles: I want you to want me,  let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one, we were meant to be (we live happily in my fantasy) and  tangled with what I never said

lex's winter challenge (upcoming)

STuad fic exchange (upcoming)

Reverse Big Bang (upcoming)

continuing wips into 2024

The next chapter of hold me close (I’m shaking apart) in which Steve asks Eddie if he wants to experiment. Eddie wants so much more, but he takes what he can get and tries to not let it break his heart.

Pickup Note, a collab with @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party about Steve joining Corred Coffin as a sub drummer. Inspired by Kei's fanart HERE and HERE.

Dear Future Self: Eddie is in love with Steve, who has become a fast friend after saving the world together but he's too afraid to make a move. Good thing his future self decides to help things along.

Take your time (I wanna cross some lines): Steve wants to try something new: getting used by strangers. He asks his best friend Eddie to watch over him while he's doing that so he can feel safe. But who watches over Eddie's heart?

History throws its shadow over the beginning: B-side to @legitcookie and my very first collab, I wore his jacket for the longest time. It's the same story, but told from Eddie's POV.

Closing Time with @legitcookie: After the worst date in a long while, Steve decides to take home the cute bartender who cheered him up.

Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang

tagging (with ZERO pressure): @legitcookie @yournowheregirl @starrystevie @scarcrossdlvrs, @henderdads, @stevethehairington, @starryeyedjanai, @cranberrymoons, @steddielations, @maxinemaxmayfield

Thank you to everyone who read my stuff and let me feel loved and cherished by liking, reblogging and commenting on them. It's been such a wonderful experience to be part of this fandom and I wouldn't want to miss it in the world. Here's to hoping for many more fics to come in 2024 💜🥰

#my writing #steddie #fic writing review 2023

[brooklynisher]

Hey ! I think I've seen you mention details about how Boop and GG met (if I'm wrong I'm so sorry I'm . So tired) ,, could you maybe . Elaborate on that I miss them ....

Aaa

Right, so I don't think I've ever explicitly stated it bc the lore is really stupid, but I did vaguely hint at it multiple times

You remember when I asked you to draw GG in the backrooms?

I'm being serious about that

I don't think you knew, but that request was a lot more self-indulgent than you probably thought it was ;D

I'll give you a little rundown on the lore. It's a little tragic, but not so much from her perspective. Maybe if she gains hyperintelligence it'll weigh down on her more, but not atm. I've been pulling together my thoughts on her so don't be surprised if this is a bit info dumpy ok?

Boopsy Doodle was built in 1923 by Peter Walter III. She was a prototype drawing bot. He worked on her for 2 years before leaving her to figure out the outside world on her own under supervision of course. Unfortunately, he looked away for just a second and she was gone. She was drawn by Delilah, the giraffe, not the wraith, but because her sense of depth perception wasn't quite developed yet, she fell to the bottom of the pit that contained Delilah. Peter and the Walter Workers scrambled to the bottom to search for her, hoping that they could at least retrieve her parts and repair her again, but she was nowhere to be seen. That's part of the reason why III doesn't have any kids. He felt really bad about losing Boop just before she could ever meet the other robots.

She fell into the backrooms and met GG. Don't ask me why GG's there she just is. But yeah. GG was just as egotistical, mischievous, obnoxious, and loud back then as she is now, but after a while, she realizes the Boopsy is the only real person she can talk to in there, so she puts a lot of her pride behind for Boop so that way if they are stuck there forever, GG doesn't have to be alone forever. Much less with someone she hates.

And I've never been a fan of the whole modernization of the backrooms where people added different levels and different monsters to make it "scarier". I think it's creepier at its core. But for the sake of lore, I'm going to incorporate the leveling thingy so that way GG and Boop's whole thing isn't just sitting in an empty room for god knows how long doing nothing. I wanna give them something to do.

So yeah, GG and Boopsy's backroom adventures. Eventually, they escape. It was by accident. They were getting quite used to level hopping in the backrooms so it came as a surprise to them when they finally escaped. But they were separated so that sucks. Still haven't decided what's been going on since they were separated from each other.

Also, thought I'd mention, I like to think of her personality as very similar to Frisk from Undertale. Basically non-existent through words, a little more noticeable through actions. I like to think that like Frisk, Boopsy has a very go-with-the-flow-like attitude. It doesn't matter what kind of world she gets stuck in. She'll go along with it and not question it at all no matter how strange it is. Which I suppose is more of a child-like approach to new situations more than anything else.

She'd make a great videogame silent protagonist whose personality is revealed through actions rather than words is what I'm saying.

But anyway

#aaaaaaaaa #12 am posting #I'll be main tagging this but only because of how many connections there are to canon in this stuff #also 'cause I spent a lot of time braindumping #steam powered giraffe #spg #spg fanbot #boopsy doodle #boop #peter walter iii #gg the giraffe #ask #dumbdless #I'm tired #whyy #why does this keep happening to meeee

[eggswastaken]

I had the stupidest idea ever for a fanfic because I was making fnaf shaggy jokes.

Basically, I was wondering why shaggy would become “purple guy” in the first place. What would motivate Shaggy to unalive five children?

So here’s my thoughts:

Shaggy was getting seriously tired of all the ghosts and monsters that the Gang were having to face off.

After such a long time on the road of constant mystery solving, the Gang finally takes a week long break in a small town. (That town being where Freddy Fazbear’s pizza place is.)

At this time Shaggy is just exhausted, and none of the gang seem to understand. Shaggy is so sick of being chased by ghosts for no good reason!

(also some of the ghosts they encounter are obviously real so shaggy doesn’t understand why the real ghosts are mad at him.)

So while shaggy and scooby check out the local pizza place (Freddy’s) Shaggy’s thoughts turn darker and darker. That maybe he should just make his own ghosts, that he could be the one in control of what’s going on for once. So that’s what he does.

When it’s started to get late he convinces Scooby to go find the gang and head back to the hotel they’re staying at and he will meet them there.

Once Scooby leaves Shaggy and a handful of family’s are left at the dinner.

(Insert plot thing so that Shaggy figures out a plan to lure a child to the back because what’s easier to kill than a child? Also he uses the old springbonnie suit)

And Shaggy has his first victim. And this goes on for a couple days (about two or three more victims) until the rest of the Gang hear about it. And of course Fred is so excited because even though they should let the police handle it he can’t help be excited for another “mystery!” Shaggy being very reluctant to the idea of course, but everyone else brushes it off as him just being classic Shaggy.

(The Gang probably suspect William the owner of the restaurant, because he comes off a little cruel. But he’s actually a nice guy in this.)

After Shaggy “unalives” the last couple kids and the Gang are getting close to the answer. Shaggy already knows that there’s no turning back from what he’s done and he goes a little insane.

(Shaggy probably become on of the “missing” and he uses that to his advantage. Also probably why the gang doesn’t think it’s him.)

He’s ether hiding the body’s at the moment or just done killing the last kid, When the rest of the Gang find him in the act. They of course don’t know it’s Shaggy because he’s in the spring Bonnie suit.

They run around and have a terrifying time trying to get away from the rabbit holding a bloody knife. But Fred gets a plan and they get him into the backroom and into some kind of trap that Fred threw together.

Of course it reviled that it was Shaggy all along and the gang are devastated. They ask why and just as Shaggys about to go off on a tangent about how sick of everything he is.

The spring locks go off.

And the gang just leaves him there, It’s kinda sad to be honest.

“None of this would have happened if you meddling kids just would have been nice to your friend!”

I might make this a fic idk yet but tag me or something if you have ideas.

Edit: looking for a computer to use so I can start writing this idea.



#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #shaggy #scooby doo #scooby gang #shaggy and scooby #shaggy rogers #william afton #fnaf movie #it’s kinda sad #spring bonnie #the missing children