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yourmomxx · 11 months

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Sweet Child O’ Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: It’s time for Dean to face what he has been so afraid of the entire time. Meanwhile, the monster that has already taken one young man’s life, is on its way to claim the next one

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 11,2k (whoops)

disclaimer: What I know about Group Homes is what I know from my country (and Google), so I apologize if I made any mistakes

pt1 pt2 pt3

@psycho-magnotheric-slime

Now

The cafeteria was loud. The mixed noise of talking children and clattering dishes and cutlery filled the air, creating a yet bearable loudness.

You were sat at one of the light blue tables, across from you your best friends Cassandra Claire and Finnegan Beckett.

Cass and Finn.

She was lowly cursing at the paper straw in her apple juice box and a few strands of her black bangs slipped into her view. The wolf cut, which had been so present a few months ago, was now already grown out and even the shortest strands of Cass’s hair were reaching her shoulders.

Finn seemed caught up in his own world as he carefully laid out little figures and symbols with his french fries. He still had a few, slightly red acne spots lingering on his skin, amongst freckles covering his nose and cheeks. His hair was flaming red, just as Roy’s had been, but other than him Finn usually hid the tousled locks under a cap.

Roy. The news of his death had hit the three of you hard. You had been a friendgroup of four, Roy and Finn, and Cass and you.

Almost a week ago you had been eating lunch at this exact table, the seat to your right had been taken, laughing about terrible jokes, bickering, and not even considering it all to end as soon as it did.

And especially how it did.

Roy’s body was still lying at the morgue. The authorities had kept it there for ‘further investigation purposes’ as they had said, so no funeral had been possible yet.

Of course, the adults had introduced all of you to helping hotlines and offered their own support in case anyone wanted to talk about their feelings and their grief in the safeness of a closed room.

Not that one of you took that into consideration.

The only way you three were coping with the whole situation was through joking around and pretending none of it ever happened. Which was fine.

You and Cass had sometimes talked in the darkness of your rooms, careful and short conversations while sleeping over because neither of you wanted to spend the night alone.

But other than that? Zero. And it was alright that way. The right moment would come.

Maybe.

“Aha!” Cass suddenly yelled out triumphantly, and startled Finn out of admiring his artwork.

You looked up at her from half-heartedly poking around in your own food, as she proudly held up the apple juice that was now pierced with what looked like the abused version of a thin straw.

You gave a small clap. “Bravo” and she grinned at you before turning to Finn.

Well done, Cassie,” he sarcastically said. “You won the hard fight against the opening of a box of apple juice.”

Cass pouted and took a sip. “You don’t appreciate my victories enough, Finn. And don't call me that. Cassie.” She dramatically shuddered at the nickname.

“I’m mentally unstable, not five.”

Finn examined her perfectly done eyeliner and makeup with skeptically raised eyebrows. “You don’t look mentally unstable to me,” he remarked.

Cass gasped. “Excuse me? Prejudices??” She exclaimed.

“You see that?” She asked, frantically pointing at her face. “See how perfect my makeup is today? That's not a good thing, dumbass! Perfect makeup means that I am absolutely mentally fucked!”

You nodded supportively, and Finn just raised his eyebrows, before he dedicated his attention back to poking around in his food.

“Don't you think that's kind of ironic?” He pointed out, and Cass simply ignored him, except for the tiny eye roll she gave.

“Guys, I need your help deciding what color I'm going to dye my hair next,” she changed the topic instead and desperately ran her hands through her hair.

Finn’s head whipped around, back to his friend. “You're honestly thinking about dying your hair right now?” He asked incredulously.

She groaned and threw him a look.

“No, Finnegan, I am not actively thinking about dying my hair, but I sense a mental breakdown coming and if I'm going to absolutely lose my shit and take it out on my hair, I want the result to look good. Otherwise, we are met with that weird yellow-green-combination again.” Cass let her body shudder dramatically.

“I liked the yellow-green-combination,” you interjected.

Cass reached over the table to lay her hand above yours and looked up at you with sweet eyes. “Thanks, hun.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” mumbled Finn, his mouth stuffed full of fries. “Just leave them black.”

“I don’t think you quite understood how a mental breakdown works, man,” you said.

Finn shrugged and dipped a frie into his ketchup. “Whatever.”

You looked at Cass. “I’ll go shopping with you soon and then we will choose a color together,” you promised.

“Thanks,” she said and eyed Finn, “at least someone who cares if I ruin my good looks or not.”

But Finn didn’t hear her, or maybe he just ignored what she was saying. Because he changed the topic.

“Did the FBI agents get a hold of you guys yet?” He suddenly asked.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. “The what?”

“The FBI agents,” Finn repeated.

“Why, thank you, I got that part, but what is the FBI doing here?”

Cass just shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently they are here investigating Roy's murder.”

“What, they think someone murdered him?” You asked in disbelief.

“Well, he will not have crushed his ribs all on his own now, will he?” Finn drew a heart shape with the remaining ketchup on the plate.

“It's better than the state police,” retorted Cass, “who still think that it was some kind of ... animal attack.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right, because a bear sneaking into a castle, pushing down on someone's chest and then just leaving seems so plausible.”

Your friends raised their eyebrows in agreement.

“What did they ask you guys?” You closed your waterbottle and absentmindedly started cleaning up your plate.

Cass shrugged and leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. “Not much, the usual, I guess,” she answered, “Wanted me to tell them some things about Roy, his behavior lately, who would have wanted to hurt him…” She trailed off.

“Same here. Routine stuff,” Finn said. Then he leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice.

“To be honest, I don't really care why they're here, they are both incredibly handsome.”

“Finn!” You and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.

“What?!” The boy widened his arms in defense. “Let me enjoy the one good thing that came from Roy's death.”

Cass shoved him in response. “God, you are a manwhore!” She grumbled.

Finn rubbed his arm with an offended pout on his lips and you giggled. “Geez, we must seem so fucked up, our best friend got murdered and here we are, joking about his death.” You shook your head lightly.

“It's what he would have wanted.” Cass scooted a bit closer on her seat and took both yours and Finn’s hand in acted solemnity.

“If I die,” she vowed, “you are now officially allowed to joke about my death as much as you want. On any occasion.”

“Sick!” You called out and Cass smirked.

“Can we please get back to the part where she said if?” Finn pointed out.

Cass rolled her eyes and pulled back.

“I'm a witch, after all,” she reminded him with a threatening silken voice that had a tone of mockery. “And one day, I will figure out the secret of necromancy, just you wait.”

Finn scoffed and grinned. “Right, you with your crystals, and your smokey sticks and your herbs and tarot cards.”

He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “That's some real serious stuff you got there, Cass.”

She pushed him away. “Yeah, keep making fun of it. We'll see who has the last laugh when I turn immortal and outlive all of you idiots.”

Finn shook his head. He looked at you and pointed his forefinger to his temple, moving it in circles to indicate what he held of her words.

You shook your head grinning, and Cass, who noticed the interaction, promptly took Finn’s sugar-glazed donut and dumped it in his untouched mayonnaise.

"Ew! Jesus, Cass, you are disgusting!" Finn yelled as he stared at the disaster.

She just shrugged and was quick to eat her own food before he would get any ideas.

For a while, it was quiet. You continued cleaning and sorting your lunch plate, while Cass ate and Finn and her did not speak a word to each other.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just a break from conversation.

Eventually, Cass was the one to break it.

“So, uhm, did you guys, like - I mean, have you been thinking about Roy, too? Or, like, dreaming or something?” With every word her voice got more quiet until it was only a low mumble, drifting apart in the busy noise around.

But still everything she said managed to pierce through the air and directly into your heart.

“Why would you bring that up?” Finn asked through gritted teeth, he almost sounded mad.

Cass avoided eye contact with both of you and pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead, as if to stop it from giving her incredible pain.

“I’ve been having those horrible nightmares, since it happened,” she sighed in despair.

“It’s the same thing over and over again. I see something going into his room, but when I try to open the door, it’s locked. And I hit it, and I scream, but there’s just no sound coming out of my mouth. And when the door finally opens, there he is, lying on the bed, just-”

A heavy clatter interrupted her monologue and made you flinch. Finn had thrown his fork onto his dinner plate.

“Didn’t ask about fucking details, Cassandra,” he hissed lowly, stood up and walked away with his tray in hand.

Cass looked after him as he left and put her head in her hands with a groan.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” she mumbled into the fabric of her sleeve.

“I know,” you said. She raised her head. You gave her a sympathetic smile.

“D’you think he hates me now?”

You shook your head no. “He’s just grieving. We all are. He will get himself together again, promise.”

For a second, her lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Come on,” you said then and swung your leg over the bench, standing up. “We’ve been sitting here for far too long anyways.”

You took your tray and Cass was quick to follow you and put the dirty dishes away.

“I didn’t have any, by the way.” Confused, she looked at you.

“Nightmares,” you added.

Cass nodded. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll deal with this the same way I deal with everything: completely and utterly alone.”

You jokingly shoved her at her theatrics, and she grinned. “Shut up. I’ll be damned if I let you deal with any of this on your own. Got me?”

She laid a hand upon her heart and the other on your shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” she said. “And I suppose that also includes helping me study for my biology exam which I have definitely already studied for?”

You pulled back and inhaled sharply, pretending to think. “Ah ma’am, I am afraid this feature is not included in your subscription. We apologize for any discomfort this may bring.”

“It brings a great deal of discomfort!” Cass exclaimed while you two walked the hallway to your rooms.

“You can write me an email-complaint,” you joked. “No guarantees though. You’ve had like two weeks to study for that one.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so endlessly boring and complicated!” she cried.

You shrugged. “There’s a reason I didn’t take the AP class.”

“And I will forever envy you for it.”

You stopped when you reached the two doors to your bedrooms that laid right across of each other.

“Then,” you said and bowed lightly, “farewell my friend. May your head not explode while rehearsing for the terribly difficult school subject that is AP biology.”

She flipped you off and disappeared into her room. Laughing to yourself, you opened the door and slipped into your own.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2007

The past few hunting days had been rough. Sam and Dean had driven from one case to the next without a break, been beaten up by an entire pack of werewolves and hunted down a loose chupacabra outside of its usual territory.

Dean was beyond exhausted. His muscles ached, his head was pounding, and the lack of sleep was weighing his limbs down. He was practically dragging himself over the gravel path, before he swung open the door to Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

The air that hit them from inside was stuffy, warm, and smelt like sweat and alcohol. Low but loud enough music fell into an uncoordinated melody with loud chatter and the clinking of glass.

Dean felt like he had never experienced something more beautiful, after the weeks he’s had.

“Deeeeeannnn!”

He heard the excited cry of his name before he saw where it came from. He spotted a bright sundress on a small girl, and out of instinct crouched down as she sped towards him.

With a grunt, Dean picked her up in his arms mid sprint and lifted her up. Behind him, Sam closed the door again as Dean made his way over to the bar with little Y/N on his hip.

“How is my favorite girl today?” He asked her and she grinned at him.

“I’m good! I missed you,” she added.

Dean’s chest clammed with how much he loved her.

“Well, I’m back now, ready to give you allllll my attention. Come on, show me those fangs.” He nodded his head at her chin at his request, and Y/N drew her lips back and bared her teeth to him.

Dean held the hand that wasn’t holding her in front of his eyes and pretended to be blinded. “Wow, those are clean! I can’t even see anything.”

With a giggle, Y/N closed her mouth again and Dean blinked hard a few times.

“I brush them extra hard. Ask Auntie Ellen.”

Dean nodded. “I totally believe you. Every werewolf would be jealous of those teeth. Oh, did I say werewolf? I meant vampire, of course.”

Dean shook his head at himself, and Y/N beamed up at him with the brightest shining eyes he had ever seen.

“Good to see you again, boys,” Ellen greeted them and pulled out two glasses. “The usual?”

Sam and Dean nodded. Ellen started pouring. When Sam took his drink, he pointed somewhere in the back of the bar and said, “I’ll go have a talk with Ash.” Then he was gone.

Dean placed Y/N on one of the bar stools and took his seat next to her.

“Dean, can you play Operation with me?” Y/N asked him, and Dean stilled in his movement to take a sip of his drink. He opened his mouth to answer her, but Ellen was faster.

“Baby, let Dean rest for a bit. I’m sure these past few days haven’t been all sugar and cakes for him. Maybe later, alright?”

Y/N pouted a bit, but then shrugged and shuffled off the barstool. “Okay,” she said, and disappeared between the people, probably to the private rooms.

Dean looked after her and then turned back to Ellen with a thankful look on his face.

“Can’t believe that game is still so popular. I mean, I used to play with that in my childhood,” he said, and took a sip from his drink. The alcohol burned a bit down his throat, but it was exactly what he needed right now. Dean closed his eyes and sighed appreciatively.

“Really glad you’re back,” Ellen then told him honestly, as she opened up a beer for herself and folded her arms on the counter. “She’s been asking me nothing else than ‘When will Dean come back’ for the past few weeks. I can’t hear that sentence anymore.”

Dean chuckled and she took a sip.

“Yeah,” he dragged, and threw a look in the direction that Y/N had disappeared in. Ellen tilted her head and gave him a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You’re really good with her, ya know?” She twirled the bottle loosely on the counter. Dean avoided her inquiring gaze and looked into the liquor in his glass instead. He vaguely saw his reflection in it.

“’ve always been good with kids, I guess.” He shrugged it off.

Ellen hummed. Dean didn’t know what to make of it. He looked up at her again.

“For what it’s worth, she makes it really easy,” he said. Ellen raised her eyebrows. “To lo- to like her, I mean. She’s a great kid. You did good with her.”

Ellen sighed. “Yeah, I like to think I did. Wasn’t always easy.”

Dean nodded. A bit after they had met, Ellen had vaguely told him how she got to Y/N. How someone had just dumped the little girl, barely one year old, on her doorstep. No note, only a name and date of birth, and a blanket in the basket she had been put in.

When he had first heard the story, Dean’s hand had cramped around his beer bottle so hard his knuckles had turned white.

Stories like this about kids always got to him. But about this one? Hell, the lengths he would go to protect that little girl. She had made her way into his heart so easily, no preparation or caution, just boosted right into it with her bright smile and those happy eyes.

And Dean had never spent a day not wanting to know her.

Sometimes, when he thought about it, he thought about how easy it was. To love a kid. She wasn’t even his, but every time he had to say goodbye to her for God knows how long again, his heart broke a little more.

And he thought about how it was that easy, and how yet, somehow his father had not managed it. Had left his children alone, abandoned, in ran down motel rooms, without any contact for days and sometimes weeks. How he had felt absent, even when he was physically present, and how Dean could never do enough to feel enough for him.

It made him ache, but he had promised himself to never make anyone else feel this way. And maybe, just maybe, this little wonder he had come across was supposed to be his salvation.

“Dean, I have to tell you something.”

Somehow, the way Ellen said it, made Dean stiffen. A strange mixture of regret and hurt crossed her exes.

“It’s about your daddy,” she added.

“And about Y/N.”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

If Sam had tried to read the different emotions that were crossing his older brother’s face right now, he would have given up as soon as he had started.

But one thing was certain, they were many, and probably none of them were good.

They stood in front of the wooden door to their last room.

Your room, to be exact.

And they stood there for the second time today, to be exact.

Maria had pointed them the numbers of the bedrooms where Roy Kendall’s friends lived, they had paid each of them a visit and asked them questions about the deceased.

None of those interrogations had proven to be useful to them, though.

Also, funny enough, it turns out that Cassandra Claire and Y/N Winchester’s room happened to lay just across the hallway from each other.

But when Sam offered to move on to her after finishing Cassandra’s questioning, Dean had not-so-smoothly avoided his question and decided he was in desperate need of some lunch.

Which is why, now, they were standing here, staring at the old wooden door with filled stomachs and angel Castiel in tow - who had decided to join them after all.

Said angel now leaned in closer to Sam and not so silently whispered, “Is he- frozen? Shall I wake him?”

Dean snorted and shook his head, as if Castiel’s words had actually woken him up from the sort of trance he had been trapped in.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, still talking into the direction of the - apparently very intimidating – wooden door.

Sam raised his eyebrows, fully aware that his brother couldn’t see him. “Well then,” he said, extending his hand to the door. “Knock.”

Dean threw a murdering look over his shoulder at his little brother and took a deep breath in, shook his shoulders.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this had to be difficult for Dean, but he also wanted to get all of this over with. He could think of more fun things than spending his entire day in an orphanage, investigating a murder. Also, his suit was starting to get itchy.

The sound of Dean knocking at the door felt like a salvation. “Agents Shield and Stark and …” He threw Cas a look, “… Miller. We’re here to ask you some questions about the death of Roy Kendall.”

For a second, it was quiet. Then, “It’s open.”

The voice from inside made a chill run down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what his brother felt. But even if Dean was falling apart inside, he didn’t let his face show any of it.

Dean’s heart twisted with the door handle, as he pushed the door open and entered into the room. After him, Sam and Castiel entered, and Dean closed the door behind them again.

The room wasn’t big, but it had been decorated to be comfortable. In the middle of the wall to their right, a twin-sized bed with unified colors was placed, a small bedside table next to it.

To their left was a tall wardrobe that almost reached the ceiling, and under the window on the wall opposite them stood a nice desk.

And there, shuffling through some papers, stood a young teenage girl, with her back turned to them.

“Sorry about the mess, I-“ Dean’s heart skipped a beat as you turned around.

You hadn’t changed, not a bit, but had grown so much. The roundness in your features, like with all children, had gone away as you grew older. You had changed your hair, and your voice was different, but it was so unmistakably you that Dean needed a second to catch himself.

He feared his feet would buckle under him, as you looked at him with wide open eyes, those eyes that he remembered looked so much like your mother’s.

You felt your whole world tumble around you as you looked at them. At him. Your heart was speeding in your chest, a feeling spreading in your stomach as if you had been sucker punched.

This couldn’t be real, there was no way. But then again, there was no reason why it wouldn’t be. There were more epic scenarios you could have come up with to reunite with your … family. And nevertheless, you had stopped having dreams like that a long time ago. You had given up on hoping a day like this would come.

But now it was here, apparently, and it was so unspectacular, it was almost funny.

They walked in here, after years, in fancy suits and badges, wanting to know about- what exactly was it they wanted to know about?

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, gathering yourself.

“What are you doing here?” Compared to the chaos inside of you, your voice sounded calm and collected, almost devoid of any emotion, and a part of you was proud.

Sam cleared his throat. You noticed he looked older.

Well, no shit. But more … drawn, from his experience. Trauma, maybe. You hadn’t been aware of much when you were a child, but that their work took a toll on them, that had been unmistaken.

And Sam’s eyes held a story that seemed as tragic as it seemed muddled.

“We heard about Roy Kendall’s death,” he answered.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. They had heard about Roy. Did that mean they were here to-

“And we’re here to find out what killed him.”

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, we, uh-“ Sam shifted his weight awkwardly, “We don’t think it was a … natural death.”

“Well, no shit.” Roy’s chest had been cracked open. You were no coroner, but even you knew that couldn’t exactly be filed under the case of natural deaths.

Now, Dean took a small step forward, trying his best to hold eye contact with you, and your shoulders subconsciously stiffened.

“Y/N-,” he started.

“Dean,” you shot back.

And that wort was like a punch in his guts. Dean felt physically sick. But how could he expect any different really?

You noticed him stumbling slightly at the word, a look of hurt crossing over his face.

Good, you thought.

A part of you wanted to hit him in the chest, scream at him until your voice was raw, Why did you do this? Why did you leave me? When did you stop loving me?

But in the end, you didn’t.

You would rather die than give him the satisfaction of breaking down.

Why you thought he would feel satisfaction at your hurt, you didn’t know.

“So, Roy,” you simply said, something to break the pressing silence in the room.

Sam nodded. “Yes, exactly. We, uhm –“ He pointed to the third man you had never seen before, “and Castiel, we wanted to ask you a few things about him.”

You glanced at the guy in the trenchcoat, who raised his hand to do an awkward little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Too,” you said.

There was a silence again, until Dean took the floor. “So, he was one of your friends?” He asked, “That Roy kid?”

People had been doing it for days, yet something about them talking about one of your best friends in the past tense made your stomach turn with uneasiness.

You hummed in agreement.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam said.

“Stick it,” you bit back, and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

“Did your friend mention anything … out of the ordinary happen, before he was killed?” The third guy, with the trenchcoat and the weird name which you had already forgotten, asked.

You clenched your jaw and something about the way Dean pressed his eyes shut in exasperation made you believe that this guy’s bluntness was something quite common.

“No,” you simply said. Trenchcoat frowned.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, taking a slight step forward.

“Yes, I am. Roy never said anything about anything strange that would be in any way valuable to your case.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dean questioned.

You shrugged. “What I said.”

“Y/N, any information you can give us about Roy’s behavior before he died is extremely important and could really help us,” Sam urged.

Something about the way your name slipped off his tongue, with that sense of familiarity and normal, made your skin itch.

You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. “Well, I mean - he just mentioned that he was having those … terrible nightmares all of a sudden.” You shrugged. “Like I said, nothing that would be worth writing down.”

Sam did it anyways.

Dean tilted his head and looked at you quizzically. “Why would you think his nightmares were unusual? I mean, everyone has bad dreams from time to time.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just …” You paused. This was stupid. “It’s stupid, really, but – Roy doesn’t usually dream.”

Didn’t, you corrected in your head, but the word didn’t make it past your lips.

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“And it was just strange, because he was having these nightmares frequently, or rather this nightmare, because it was always the exact same,” you keep rambling on.

“What was it about?” Dean asked.

You swept your hand across your forehead. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t talk much about it. Just said that it was like the worst day of his life replaying over and over.”

Dean nodded. Sam frowned in interest.

“Do you know what that was? The worst day of his life?”

You shrugged. “The day he lost his parents, probably,” you said. “The entire house burnt down right in front of him. He made it out, they didn’t.”

Your voice was quiet and pressed, still feeling bad about sharing such an intimate part of Roy’s history with those … strangers. A nagging part in the back of your mind kept telling you he wouldn’t – couldn’t – mind anymore.

Sam’s pen kept scraping over his notebook, and Dean threw a glimpse over his brother’s shoulder. As you watched them, your gaze fell on trenchcoat-guy, who was still positioned in the corner of your room, just a few steps behind them.

He was observing you with interest, blue eyes staring back into yours as if he was looking directly at your soul. Something like a chill ran down your spine.

The man tilted his head, as you diverted your attention back to Dean and Sam. His brows were furrowed.

Cas recognized you. He didn’t know where from, but you looked so weirdly … familiar. Your features, the shape of your face. They way you talked and moved.

“Your boyfriend is staring at me weirdly,” you mentioned to Dean, as you caught the man’s gaze again.

Dean turned his head and looked at him, then back to you. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

You lifted your eyebrows and made an ‘Ah’ sound. Trenchcoat was getting weirder by the second. But at least the guy had stopped his creepy staring. For now.

“Look, I don’t want you guys here. But I understand that your presence is necessary in order to catch whatever it is that’s killing my friends. So, you just do your thing, look around a bit, kill something, and then leave. Both of you.”

With a look at the third guy in the trenchcoat, you added, “Three.”

Dean avoided your eyes, but Sam nodded jerkily and cleared his throat again. “Yeah, we uh … we understand that.”

He straightened his coat and turned to leave the room. “Thank you for your help for now, really. We’ll get in touch if we need anything else.”

You nodded simply, even though you didn’t exactly know what to make of that idea.

As Sam and trenchcoat-guy made their way to leave the room, Dean took a small step towards you and pulled something out of his suit jacket.

“And if there’s anything else you might remember or see, you can always give us a call.” You stared at the small paper he had handed to you. With dark blue pen, a phone number was sloppily scribbled on it. The edges of the paper were uneven, it had probably been ripped off a bigger sheet.

You pursed your lips and nodded.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say. Thank you wasn’t really in the cards right now. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back with a nod. Then, they left the room one by one.

“Have a nice day,” Sam said.

“You, too.” The answer came automatically. The door closed behind them with a click, and you were alone again.

The small paper suddenly felt incredibly heavy in your hand.

—

When Dean stepped through the threshold and out into the hallway, he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He took a deep breath like a man starved.

The sick feeling in his stomach still lingered.

He didn’t even wait for the click of the closing door before he started making his way to the exit, trusting that his brother and Castiel would follow.

His fast steps echoed over the hallway, when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder yank him around. Dean was staring into the eyes of his younger brother. He shook his arm to let Sam’s hand harshly fall off.

“What?”

Sam didn’t say anything, and Dean just glared at him. It was Castiel who spoke up first. His head was tilted, eyebrows scrunched, and a curious tone in his voice.

“She is your … daughter.” It wasn’t a question. Cas had figured out the root of all of Dean’s hesitation – to come here, to stay here, to investigate. All because of one person, that he knew was so close to Dean Winchester, but yet way too far than two people with their natural bond should be.

“What gave it away?” Dean turned to Cas. His tone was bitter. “The attitude or the way she hates my guts?”

Castiel looked him up and down.

“She is so similar to you,” he stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Dean’s sarcastic response.

Dean exchanged an annoyed look with his little brother, who simply shrugged.

“All right, now that we’ve cleared that up,” Dean gruffed and made his way down the hallway again, “Let’s go.”

He trusted that the others followed him quietly.

When they reached the gravel path that led from the small castle to their car, Sam picked up his pace to catch up with his older brother. “Dean, I’ve been thinking.”

The man scoffed. “Oh, don’t hurt yourself like that, Sammy.”

“I’m serious.” Sam halted next to his brother and pulled him to a stop with a firm hand on his shoulder. “And I think, maybe… we should sit this one out.”

The way Sam said the last bit was careful, and Dean tilted his head as he turned to his younger brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, maybe this case is too personal for us, Dean. Maybe we should let some other hunter take care of it.”

Dean shook his head. “No way. This is the first time in years that I get to see my daughter, I will not just throw this away.” He lifted his index finger to point it at his brother.

“Well, what exactly is it that you want to do, Dean? It’s not like the two of you have the strongest father-daughter bond!” Sam scoffed and his arms in the air.

Dean started walking towards the impala again. “I know, and that’s why I want to make things right with her.”

“What for, Dean? Just so we leave her here, again?”

"I don’t know!” Dean whirled around in fury as he yelled the words. He slumped his shoulders.

“I don’t know, okay?” He said, his voice was smaller now. “Look, let’s just … let’s finish this case. Give me some time to figure things out and then we will decide.” Dean peeled himself out of his suit jacket and tossed it in the backseat of the impala. He slammed the door. “But first, let’s save some lives.”

Sam shook his head. “Alright. Whatever you say.” He matched Dean as he opened the door to the back and tossed his jacket on the leather seats.

“By the way, where’s Cas?”

Sam threw a look around them. He was right, the angel was nowhere to be found. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he zapped to the motel again.”

Dean frowned as he pulled open the front door. The hinges squealed. “We need to have a serious talk with him about that. Can’t have him disappearing on me the entire time.”

Sam frowned. Dean meant them, right? Couldn’t have him disappearing on them the entire time. Us.

Right?

Sam decided to shrug his brother’s strange comment off for now and got in the passenger’s seat.

“We have to go there anyways. Do some research,” he said.

Dean hummed and started the car. Sam could about assume what that meant. The gravel gnarled under the Impala’s tires as they drove off.

—

Back alone in your room again, you sat on your desk chair as your playlist of favorite songs blasted through your headphones. Dark ink started covering your thighs, where you were drawing on them with your pen as you had placed them on the surface of the desk.

The past few minutes, your mind had been insanely occupied with processing what the actual fuck had just happened. Because. Well. What the actual fuck had just happened?

When they had knocked on your door, you had expected the normal questioning, something that Cass and Finn had been talking about anyways.

When you turned around, just to stare at the face of Dean Winchester, your mind had gone fully devoid of every thought ever formed.

The typical “heart slipping into your pants.”

It felt as if you had worked on autopilot, not even coherently remembering what you had said to them. Had your reaction been an appropriate one? After years of imagining this exact scenario, in all ways and forms it could’ve played out, you not being able to form a simple sentence had not been one of them.

In afterthought, maybe you should’ve punched Dean.

Maybe that would’ve been the appropriate response.

The sharp sound of a knock at your door made you startle. You pulled your headphones off your ears and turned the music off. Those things were great, but in all those years they had never quite managed to overpower the sounds around you.

Maybe that was why you were still allowed to wear them all the time.

“Who’s there?” You asked loudly into the room.

“Me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck? How was there not a single normal person knocking on your bedroom door today?

“Who is me?” You asked again.

The door opened just the tiniest bit, creaking in the process, and through peeked the head of the third man that had accompanied Sam and Dean earlier.

Trenchcoat guy.

“It’s me,” he repeated.

You frowned. “Uhm - come in?” You invited him and lifted your feet off the table.

Trenchcoat guy carefully shuffled in through the gap in the door until he stood in your room, awkwardly, and his stiff posture made him look so out of place, it was almost funny.

When he didn’t seem to plan on doing anything more than eyeing the bookshelf on the other wall, you decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name.”

Slowly, he turned his attention back to you, as if he had now just remembered that you were there. “I’m Castiel,” he answered in a deep, gravelly voice.

You raised your eyebrows. “Ah. Right.” Another beat of silence. “Are you, like - Dean’s boyfriend or something?” You asked.

Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “Me and your father are not romantically involved in any way whatsoever,” he reassured you.

“Ah,” you said again. Then, “Did Dean send you?”

Castiel shook his head, almost offended at the implication. “After our … conversation, earlier, he figured you were not too enthusiastic to see him. That is why only I am here.”

You swallowed hard. No, that wasn’t true.

“He’s damn right.”

Castiel nodded.

Then it was quiet again. “Is there … anything you need?” You dragged out, unsure of what he was planning to do in here exactly.

“Well, no, not specifically, I just - wanted to talk to you,” Castiel said, though he seemed not too secure about his purpose himself. “About your father.”

“Dean,” you corrected, but were sure Castiel didn’t miss how your shoulders stiffened at it. The man in the trenchcoat frowned and dipped his head lightly.

“Yes, your father.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “He’s not my father. He’s just Dean.”

“As I understand it, you were conceived through him and your mother having sexual intercourse, therefore-“

“Okay! Thank you,” you interrupted him and raised your hand to sign stop. “What do you want?”

Castiel took a few steps closer to you, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor as he seemed to look for the right words.

“I fear your father- Dean,” he corrected himself with a look in your direction, “does feel very bad about what happened between you and him.”

You pursed your lips. “So? Did he tell you that?”

Castiel looked sheepish. “No,” he answered honestly, “But I know your- him. Just because he does not like to talk about his feelings does not mean that he does not feel them.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Let me ask you something, Castiel,” you said. He nodded. “Anything.”

“Do you know at all what happened? Between me and him?”

Again, Castiel looked away. You did not know this man. You did not know what his history with Dean was, or with Sam. But you knew that he knew nothing.

“No.” That one word confirmed it.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Then - excuse my choice of words - but you have no room to talk. And if Dean wants to tell me something, he can always do that himself. In person. He’s here anyway.”

Castiel nodded. “Alright.”

It was silent again, between you and him, until Castiel took in a sharp breath and leaned forward into something close to a bow.

“I’m sure they await me,” he explained. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He then turned around to open the door, but paused mid his action.

“You do look a lot like him, you know?” He said.

That’s it.

“Out,” you ordered him harshly and Castiel walked through the door, closing it behind him.

—

You had, in fact, ended up helping Cass study for her upcoming exam. Well, what means help, you had asked her questions and she had to answer them correctly - which worked expectedly not so well.

“I can just play the dead friend card,” she had joked, but you knew that she was actually actively considering it.

In that moment though, you had just skipped over her remark and continued asking her about the digestive system of a Baird’s beaked whale.

It was already late at night when the two of you finally hugged goodbye.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “You helped a lot. I’ll forget it all until tomorrow morning, but I do appreciate your effort.”

You smiled at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll nail it. Or at least not fail.”

She laughed. “You think too highly of me, Y/N.”

For a few moments, nobody said a word. “I never asked you,” Cass eventually started, “are you okay?”

You took a deep breath and shifted your weight. “Considering the circumstances, I guess. You?”

“Same thing,” she said. You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling. “It still feels weird only being three people,” you realized.

“Yeah,” Cass agreed quietly.

A few beats of silence passed, until you got yourself back together and shook your body as if to shake off your grief.

“But whatever,” you sighed. “Can’t change that now, can we?”

You looked at Cass and she hummed with a dull shrug, seeming lost in her own thoughts.

She absentmindedly opened her bedroom door, but just as she wanted to disappear into the room, you grabbed her arm to stop her for a second.

“By the way, about your nightmares,” you said, “maybe you can take some pills against that, if it gets too much. Unregulated sleep is probably worse than no sleep.”

Cass managed a tired smile. “Will try, thanks. Goodnight babes, love you,” she threw you a kiss.

“Love you too, good night,” you said back and smiled at her, waiting until she closed the door to enter your own room.

—

You didn’t know what woke you up. The glowing numbers of the digital clock on your nightstand showed it to be somewhere around half past three. Really not your usual wake-up time.

Just as you rolled around in your sheets to get your missing hours of sleep in, you heard strange shuffling outside your door. Perking up, you realized it sounded like the overlapping chatter of voices, and shoes pounding over the smooth floor.

Yeah, no way you would be going back to sleep now.

Especially not with the uncomfortable feeling that had settled into your stomach.

Stumbling a bit, your joints not quite awake yet, you trutted over to your door and creaked it open slightly.

The white light burned your eyes at the start, as you slipped out of your room and were met with the sight of multiple people fussing around not that far away.

The uneasy feeling only got worse, as you realized two things at once: The people were first responders, firefighters, to be exact. And they were all gathered around the open door across the hallway to yours.

Cass.

You moved on autopilot, as your feet carried you closer to the scene, eyes not leaving the gaping black hole that was the entrance to your best friend’s room.

“What happened?” You asked the closest paramedic next to you, a young man with brown hair and dark gear. It didn’t help much, because his voice faded out into the back of your head, as movement began to settle over the group.

The paramedic gestured his hands, as he talked to you, though that was not at all what had grabbed your attention.

You could only look at her, as she was lying sprawled out on the stretcher that was being wheeled out of her bedroom.

Cass.

But it wasn’t Cass, it couldn’t be. Dark grey plastic was wrapped around her body, covering her features as one of the firefighters that pushed the gurney zipped the material closed.

A body bag.

You felt bile rise into your throat.

Who put a seventeen-year-old in a body bag?

She wasn’t supposed to be there. What was she doing in there.

She had a biology exam tomorrow. She was supposed to join you at breakfast. In just a few hours. She was supposed to still lay in her bed and sleep, fast and sound.

Lay in her bed. Not on a moving gurney. Her bed.

You had laid in that bed. Just a few hours before.

The exam.

Breakfast.

Dark grey plastic.

Body Bag. A body. Dead. A dead body.

Dead. Dead. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Dead.

Like a distant echo, you still vaguely registered the young paramedic talking to you; he came to an abrupt stop when you bent over and threw up on his shoes.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Sioux Falls 2009

The soft music that sounded through Grandpa Bobby’s old house reminded you of Auntie Ellen’s Roadhouse.

It made you a bit homesick, but for a while now, whenever you asked Dad if you could go there again, he just shook his head and said that it wasn’t possible.

That’s also the reason why you’d been living with Grandpa Bobby for very long now, he had told you.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came to visit sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. But you saw Dad much more often, and you liked that. You missed him whenever he went out and saved people.

Grandpa Bobby had told you that it was very important, what Dad and Uncle Sam did. That’s why you never complained when they stayed away for long.

Grandpa Bobby said they saved lives. Like firemen, he said. Or Sheriff Jody.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came over for a visit today. Dad had said that they were here to help him and Uncle Sam take care of something, that’s why they had to leave later.

Jo was playing your favorite boardgame with you. You had missed her. She was still very pretty. You knew your Dad thought that too.

“Alright,” Dad said, walking through the threshold that connected Grandpa Bobby’s workroom and the dinner table where you and Jo were currently playing. “It’s time to get this little Lady to sleep.”

You pouted at him.

“But Dad, I still want to stay up and play with Jo!”

Dad raised his eyebrows and threw a pointing look at his watch.

“It is already way past your bedtime, kiddo. And I heard tomorrow is a big school day?”

He was right. Tomorrow, you started your first singing lessons with all your bestest friends. Not all of them as best friends as Jo was, though.

Your shoulders slumped.

“Can I at least say Goodbye to you?”

Dean’s gaze went soft as he looked at you. He knew how hard this was for you, how he left all the time and came back for only such short periods. But he wanted to make this a better world for you to grow up in. And when all of this was over, and it would be tonight, hopefully, then he would allow himself to settle down and spend all the time he could give with you.

“Of course you can, my little love.”

Dad crouched down and lifted you up into his arms.

“Dean, Jo!” Came Auntie Ellen’s voice from the study, “We’re ready!”

Dad threw you a mysterious look as he stepped into Grandpa Bobby’s workspace, where he and Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam already stood lined up.

You noticed the camera set up on a strange construction.

Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam smiled when they saw you.

“You don’t mind a small addition, do you, Ellen?” Dad asked, and Auntie Ellen shook her head.

“Of course not!” She smiled, and made space for you and Dad to stand next to her. He was still carrying you in his arms, supporting your weight with his hip.

“Alright, on the count of three, all smile in the camera!” Uncle Sam said.

“One, two, three!”

You giggled when Dad tickled your stomach. You wanted to see the picture right now, but Grandpa Bobby had told you it would take a while to develop.

Enveloped in bear hugs from Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam and Dad, to say goodbye to them, you finally agreed to go to bed.

“Dad?” You asked him, as he went to close the door behind him. Dad turned around and looked at you, snuggled into the warm blanket with your favorite stuffed animal under your arm.

“You’ll come back soon, right?”

Dad smiled at your words. “Of course I will, sweetheart. And Uncle Sam, and Auntie Ellen, and Jo. All of us.”

“You promise?”

Dad pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Sleep well.”

Even years later, Dean Winchester still carried an old photograph in his wallet, of a brunette mother, a blonde daughter, a father figure, and two brothers.

Though, one of them wasn’t looking at the camera, but rather at the small child he held on his side, his hand on her stomach as she blindingly smiled a carefree smile into the camera.

His own was dreamy as he watched her, and yes, for that moment, he dared to say, maybe even carefree as well.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

Cass’s room was never quiet. Whether she was blasting music or playing guitar, singing her soul out in the shower or watching a move obnoxiously louder than it had to be.

Cass’s room was never quiet. Especially not as it was now.

The silver streams of light reaching through the window made her bedroom almost look so soft and inviting, as you stood there, observing, not quite in the hallway but not exactly in the room either.

It was macabre, what you saw. Not because the room looked so terrible, no, because it looked so … normal.

None of the bookshelves were tumbled over, or paper sprawled all across the floor.

The loose decoration items weren’t lying disheveled everywhere. No signs of a fight. A physical one.

The bed wasn’t made. Cass never did that.

The room looked so normal.

It looked so right.

So why wasn’t she?

“Y/N, sweetheart,” The sound of the familiar, comforting voice of Maria Whitlock reached your ears and made you slowly turn around.

Even through the blur of unshed tears in your eyes, you could make out the two familiar figures standing behind her.

“There’s someone here to talk to you.”

You blinked away the tears and caught Dean’s gaze, and for the first time since you had seen him again, his features looked so soft and merciful, towards you, it had the power to almost shatter your heart.

And you hated yourself for how much you wanted to be comforted by him, be held in his arms like the small child that once had been, only seeking safety with her-

“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than you had expected it to, almost an accusation. But neither Sam nor Dean did flinch at your tone.

“We wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” It was obvious why. They knew, you knew, they knew you knew.

“I think you know about what,” Sam said, the softness in his voice grazing your stuttering heartbeat like a soft breeze.

Dean gestured in the direction of your room.

“In private.”

You didn’t want to speak alone to them. Then again, for the past almost-decade, it had been everything you could’ve wished for.

As you settled onto your bed, both Sam and Dean taking it upon themselves to find chairs to be comfortable, you felt like a small child again.

Looking at Dean, there was a familiarity that you needed, it was grounding, and you hated that it was. His presence, which had felt like home, and like safety for so long, being everything that you craved these past few days made your skin itch, because he still felt so right.

And you still felt so safe with him.

In a matter of seconds, you stood there and turned from a young woman into a small child, that wanted to throw herself in his arms and let him tell her that everything would turn out to be alright, because he was there, and he would look out for you. No matter what happened between the two of you, that had not changed, and you didn’t know what to think about it.

Sam was the first one to clear his throat. Of course he was.

“How are you feeling?”

Half-heartedly, because that was all you could muster right now, you raised an eyebrow at him. At least he had the decency to look a bit ashamed of his question.

“We’re sorry for your loss.”

Surprised, you turned your head to look at Dean. His green eyes were soft with sincerity.

“I don’t know how much she meant to you.” He glanced at Sam. “But I can imagine.”

You swallowed hard and looked back at your fumbling fingers again.

“Yeah, she was – she was great.” Your voice broke mid-sentence and you sniffled.

You cleared your throat. “Uhm, but – anyways, that’s not why you’re here. Am I right?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, that could be regret as much as it could be pity, and then turned back to you.

“We’re sorry. But if we want to catch whatever is doing this, we need to have all the information,” Sam apologized.

You nodded. You already knew what they were going to ask, so you saved their time and jumped straight to the answers.

“There was nothing – unusual.” You rubbed your eyes. “She was okay just yesterday, she was- I helped her studying biology, we-“ You interrupted yourself.

Sam threw you another pitying look.

“Is there a chance she might’ve had nightmares too? You know, like Roy,” Dean asked you.

You threw your hand in the air. “Yeah, I guess,” you said. “Didn’t really think that much into it. You know, considering what happened.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheeks and gulped. “Right.”

It was quiet again. The brothers looked at each other one last time, before Sam stood up and fixed his suit jacket.

“Alright. We’re gonna leave you now.”

Please don’t.

You nodded.

Sam stretched his hand out to reach for you, but hesitated mid-air and pulled his arm back again.

“Whenever you need something,” Dean said meaningfully, before he stepped out the door, “Call us.” Call me.

You hummed absently.

The click of the lock drowned the bedroom in a deafening silence again.

—

Night came sooner than you thought it would. Sleep didn’t.

You thought, with the exhaustion that had been dragging down your bones all day long, it would only be a matter of time until exhaustion claimed you.

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and opened up your chat with Finn.

With a sting in your heart, you realized that the last text conversation the two of you had had, had been more than a week ago.

Before all of this started.

Your keyboard clicked as you typed out the message.

hey

The answer came almost instantly.

Hey

can’t sleep either?

Your thumbs hovered over the buttons as you thought of what to type next.

I’m sorry we didn’t talk the entire day

It’s okay

It’s not like I came to see you either

would it be terrible to ask how you’re feeling?

Everyone’s been asking that

Oh, how you knew.

But to be honest

I don’t know

First Roy now Cass

Hasn’t reached my brain tbh

Feels more like a dream and I could wake up any second

I know what you mean

You paused for a moment, before you decided to send out the next text.

I’m still waiting for her to waltz into my room at 6 in the morning because she wants to get some mini donuts at breakfast before they’re all gone

You could practically hear the snickering laugh of Finn’s, as the icon told you he was typing out his next message.

Or letting my Alexa play the most random songs

I swear to God I’ve heard less sexual content in actual porn than that one Nicki Minaj song

first of all, it was cardi b, you pig, and

second that song is legendary

she was right to show it to you

A short while, you didn’t get an answer and you were almost afraid that Finn had either fallen asleep or that you had said something inappropriate, when the familiar ding made your screen light up.

We can catch up tomorrow

You know, maybe it would help us both

I know we haven’t been the same since all of this started, but I would really like us to be

Now more than ever

A heavy tug clamped around your heart at his words

you’re right

let’s talk tomorrow

Alright

Goodnight Y/N

good night finn

Sleep didn’t come in the first second after you plugged your phone on the charger, or even after you turned around to face the other wall.

But, as you laid on your back and felt the comforting arms of exhaustion grab after you, you had a feeling that it would’ve been worse if you had not talked to Finn.

—

Meanwhile, in the motel, Dean was slamming his third book this evening shut and tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of “absolute useless crap that nobody needed and was a total waste of time”. The name had been his idea.

Sam didn’t even look up as his brother stood up with a screeching from the wooden floor as he slid the chair back, and started pacing around the room.

“I hate this,” he mumbled under his breath.

“How is it even possible that, everywhere we look, there isn’t even the smallest hint at what we might be chasing?”

Demonstratively, he picks up a book from the pile they brought back from the library, and lets it fall on the desk again.

“Not to mention that we’re completely wasting our time here reading through this absolute crap, and we’ve got jack squat!”

The paper rustled as Sam turned another page.

“I already told you, Dean,” he muttered, eyes still concentrated on the faded ink of the book. “There was nothing online, so we had to go old-school.”

Dean kept muttering under his breath. “This is ridiculous.”

Sam rolled his eyes and placed a new book where his brother had been sitting a few minutes ago.

“If you want it to go faster and we can catch this thing, sit down and get to reading. Research doesn’t do itself.”

Dean was still cursing under his breath when he reached the second chapter.

—

The loud chatter of multiple conversations, accompanied by faint music playing in the background and the occasional clinking of glasses or beer bottles was an all too familiar mix of noises for you.

The light in the Roadhouse bar was still a warm-toned white, and the men and women all towered over you in lengths. Immediately, the feeling of home engulfed you.

You were looking around, searching for the familiar set of colorful crayons, where had your Auntie Ellen put them? You were bored and wanted to draw a pretty picture of the horse you had seen this morning.

Squeezing through the people, they all made way for you when they realized who wanted to get past them, you tried calling out for Auntie Ellen or Jo, but no tone left your throat.

A panicked feeling settled in your stomach.

Then, you spotted a tall figure just a few feet away from you. They were wearing a cool leather jacket and had their back turned to you.

You made your way over to them. You didn’t know why, but somehow you knew that this stranger could help you.

When you had almost reached them, they suddenly started moving and walked away. You wanted to cry after them, but you still couldn’t speak.

You moved your legs as fast as you could, running after them, but the people in the bar suddenly got more and more, always shoving and not making room for you anymore.

The person still hadn’t shown you their face, you could only see their back as you fought to get to them. Then, they walked through the door out of the Roadhouse.

With one last push, and a protesting yell that didn’t leave your throat, you rushed after them into the light.

With a creak, the Impala’s door swung open, and you shuffled your feet out of the car until they hit the gravel.

Dad had offered to open the door for you, but you were a big girl already, you could get out of the car on your own.

When you turned around to ask him what you were doing here, you faltered.

The Impala was gone. So was Dad. And Uncle Sam. You looked around, but they were nowhere to be found. Your breathing quickened as you realized that you were alone, somewhere you didn’t know, on stoney ground with only your bunny slippers. You didn’t even have your favorite stuffed animal with you!

“Hey, let’s go,” you suddenly heard a voice say, and turned around to see a girl with black hair stand in front of you.

Suddenly, as you had just been looking up to her, the two of you were now eye to eye. She just stared at you.

A name popped into your head.

Cass.

That’s weird. You knew a Cass. And then it hit you.

Your best friend. Roy, Finn, Cassandra. Sam and Dean.

But Cass was dead. She couldn’t be here. Looking around, you noticed that the scenery around you was blurry by the edges.

Weren’t you standing on a pathway just now? Why were you in a cafeteria?

This wasn’t real, none of it. It was a dream.

Harsh dread clawed itself into your heart like iced water. You had to get out of here. How did you get out of a dream?

You knew it, you had done this before, with your nightmares. You had to die.

You moved your feet, tried running away, but the floor wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried, you didn’t move an inch, it’s like you were stuck.

You began to panic. This couldn’t be, there had to be a way for you to get out.

The next thing you knew, you lost the ground beneath your feet, and everything was black. You were falling.

You felt your organs being lifted by the air pressing you up, felt your heart pump so hard you were afraid it would jump out of your chest.

There was nothing around, only darkness, only empty.

No, no, no.

You wanted to scream, but your vocal cords were cut. Not a sound escaped your lips.

You had to get out, if there was nothing around you, how could you die?

You screamed without a sound.

If this was your dream, why couldn’t you just shape it the way you wanted?

The next thing you knew, there was light around you, and you were running again.

“Dean, look at this.” Sam slammed a massive book under Dean’s nose, dangerously close to Dean’s freshly filled coffee. Reflexive, Dean pulled the cup a few inches away.

Sam placed his finger on one of the open pages of the book. “Here,” he said. “I think this could be it.” Dean leaned forward to read.

You had landed on a road, a highway, judging by the many cars around you. This time, you actually managed to run somewhere, even if a lot slower than you usually would. Like treading through water.

It felt like you were chasing something, but you didn’t know what it was.

“If this is really it,” Dean said, when he finished reading, “Then we have a big problem.”

You did your best to remember your original plan. Right now, you were on a stripe of green next to the busy road. You had to change that.

Sam nodded heavily. “We need to get to Saint George’s immediately.”

Sam grabbed his jacket, but Dean didn’t move an inch, still staring at the handwritten words on the old paper in front of him.

You used all your strength to tread to the left, where cars were rushing from both sides over the street.

“This thing basically feeds off of bad experiences, right?”

Sam nods.

It was a red car that did it. You saw it coming as you made a beeline over the highway. As you noticed the headlights speeding towards you, for a split second you asked yourself, “What if this isn’t a dream. What if this is real.” You didn’t feel the impact when the car hit you.

“Then that means-“ Dean’s head shot up so fast Sam feared his brother would get whiplash.

“Y/N,” Dean breathed out.

Your heart was still beating rapidly in your chest when you officially woke up. The memory of the nightmare was still rushing through your minds, pictures playing behind your eyelids.

You had a hard time breathing, your chest felt as if it was carrying a hard weight that caged in your lungs.

You forced open your eyes to get yourself a glass of water. You were met with two yellow glowing orbs staring right back at you, merely inches away from your face in the darkness of the room.

You couldn’t stop the terrified scream that erupted from your throat.

oooh guys, only one chapter to go! what are we thinking? do you have any ideas on what the monster could be? and what do we think about cass and finn? comments & reblogs are always appreciated, see y’all in the next part!

#dean winchester fic #dean winchester x child!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural imagine #supernatural #father of mine #sweet child o mine #yourmomxx

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colonelarr0w · 2 months

Text

A/N - I don't really know what this is, but I randomly thought of this because of those fucking TikTok slideshows.

"And Yuuji?"

The pink-haired teenager turns, eyes meeting your awaiting gaze. His lips curl upward in a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there."

Yuuji's smile widens – if that was even possible – and he sends a thumbs-up in your direction. "You got it!"

No, no, no, no.

"Kugisaki! Run!" Yuuji shouts, hand desperately extending in the direction of his friend. His eyes widen as the sound of a slap echoes throughout the otherwise empty train terminal. He can feel his heart promptly stopping in his chest as Mahito continues running, only turning once he's skidded to a stop a few inches behind Nobara's back.

His head turns, eyes casting a glance over his shoulder. A grin spreads over his face at the destruction he's caused, a childlike glint to his eyes as he watches Nobara's palm cover the eye that he had touched.

You stare silently from your place, eyes wide at the scene that begins to unfold in front of you. You had seen this somewhere before, a muddled memory that featured different figures – but it was a dangerous similarity nonetheless.

Yuuji freezes in place, watching as Nobara's eyes cast themselves to the ground, her palm still covering her right eye. Her expression conveys just how conflicted she is, but for a moment, there's a moment of acceptance.

That's where you'd seen it before.

A bright eyed girl with her entire life ahead of her and a boy who only wanted to help her. Then, just like the snapping of someone's fingers, gone is the girl.

And left behind is the boy to grapple with the aftermath of her death.

With a smile on her face, Nobara uncovers her eye, allowing Yuuji to see the veins beneath her skin. Already they are enflamed – both she and Yuuji know what is going to happen, and shockingly, she accepts it.

Yuuji shakes his head, slowly approaching Nobara. He doesn't want it to be true … she knows that there's no other outcome.

"Y'know … it wasn't so bad," Nobara admits with a closed-eye smile. She chuckles breathily, a tear slipping down from her uninjured eye. Her head tilts, her bangs flopping momentarily over her eyes before the veins in her right eye expand and explode.

Yuuji stares, eyes widened in horrified shock as the body of one of his closest friends falls to the floor with a lifeless, heavy thud.

You remember seeing that exact expression worn by another face, one that had blurred with time, but one that you had once regarded with a love so pure that surely anyone would be jealous of it.

From your place behind Yuuji, all you can do is watch – just as you had done all of those years ago. All you can do is watch as he stares down at her corpse, just like another had done.

But this time …

… you approach Yuuji carefully. Extending your hand, you lay your palm flat against his back, turning him to face you while your eyes never leave Nobara.

Her eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, devoid of any and all of the warmth that once encapsulated her irises. You'd seen that before too.

"I--" Yuuji begins, but the thought is cut off as a sob rises in his throat. His eyes crinkle, tears falling from where they had been clinging to his bottom lash line. His body turns, arms wrapping tightly around your midsection.

You say nothing as you return his embrace, allowing him to bury his face away into your shoulder – likely not wanting to stare into the lifeless eyes of one of his best friends. "Shh."

"Geto-san," Yuuji whimpers into your shoulder, then dissolving into tears. You screw your eyes shut, trying your best to mask the shaky sigh that falls from your lips. You turn your head, laying your cheek against the top of his head and squeezing him tighter into your embrace.

"I know," you say shakily, swallowing your own tears, "I know."

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #kugisaki nobara #suguru geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk drabbles

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bl3ss3dbyt1amat · 4 months

Text

misc bg3 companion hc

this is so much. i have no idea and im also sorry. all of the origin companions included under the cut

astarion:

i feel like he claps funny. like hes clapping but its that specific way thats meant to be like quieter? like clapping on the palm of his hand. this might be projection but i feel like hes also the type of person to do like a little clap or a spin or his trademark ridiculous giggle whenever hes happy.

i think that hes prone to dramatics like. like pretending to fall on the floor and die if you say hes actually not on your mind 24/7. oh whats that? you dont think im the prettiest princess in the entire world? well astarion has dramatically fallen to the floor

in the early game astarion most definitely practiced his lines loudly and publicly (in camp). he cant even see himself in the mirror but hes trying to look all suave and being like "shall i compare thee to a summers night" while lae'zel and shadowheart both shout "NO" from across the camp. (can be interpreted as bloodiedblade/wyllstarion but i think wyll would be amused and even finish the quote).

wyll:

this man is probably good with basic medicines and ill die on this hill. hes got aloe vera type shit on him at all times. sure, hes not a cleric or healer or even a bard, but he'll stay with you and try his damned best to cheer you up when youre hurt or sick.

on a related note i feel like wyll would be absolutely DELIGHTED by a bard tav. he would just be so amused and filled with whimsy. never gonna complain about playing, even if its like 2am. just occasionally putting in song requests. hes so incredibly enthusiastic like spinning tav around like "THAT WAS BRILLIANT!!!"

wyll probably keeps houseplants. (minor blazingblade but i feel like karlach would accidentally kill one of the plants and actually begin weeping. once she gets her engine fixed wyll tries to teach her how to garden. this goes weirdly) furthermore i think he like goes around his house like humming merrily and watering his plants and crap

gale:

i dont think hes coordinated at all. like this man is tripping down the stairs on a daily basis. he is dropping his tea, his book, his body, ect. to the point that hes got a habit of just hugging the railing for dear life every time he has to go down a staircase. this made traversing shit like the underdark actually literally horrible. every time he falls karlach is so overly concerned and probably offers to carry him. astarion, to everyones dismay, dies laughing each and every time

pretty sure wyll and shadowheart have a conversation about weird book porn. i am here to say that gale was holding back his power while that conversation happened. gale has read so much book porn and if you knew the real scale of it you would be concerned. tara is concerned at least.

shadowheart:

especially during early game, i feel like shadowheart was literally clenching so hard to avoid admitting cute things were cute. like "oh.. a stray mutt... charming I MEAN IN LIKE A GROSS WAY". she was trying to hard to be all scary and into shar and shit but she just really likes puppies and other animals and crap

if she were modern i feel like she would really like pixar movies (inside out comes to mind for reasons i cannot explain) and wear long jean skirts. i cant explain any of this but it is fact in my mind. even in the bg3 setting i do feel like she would wear very long boxy type skirts. sort of plays into her whole "dark priestess" sort of vibe

shadowheart was sitting in her tent with scissors fucking losing her shit with anxiety trying to cut her own bangs without a mirror. it is a literal miracle from selune that they dont look like complete and total shit. no wonder halsin was surprised. (minor silverheart/shadow'zel: when she first like actually properly noticed what shaodwheart did with her hair, since the initial joke is she cant tell what changed, i think lae'zel was very impressed. she even likened it to like a sort of war paint against shar. also we KNOW lae'zel likes silver)

(can be interpreted as bladeheart/,,, do wyll and shadowheart have a ship name yet? HM. well anyway i think that in conjunction with the previous headcanon about wyll gardening, he and shadowheart garden together and he specially grew her night orchids)

lae'zel:

ever since i looked at her stupid little mindflayer training dummie in camp ive had the image of her in my head very angrily and intensly carving up a turnip to look like a mindflayer. draws a little mean face on it like the worlds most violent six year old. every time she messes up on her little DIY project shes muttering curses in tir'su.

lae'zel will take any opportunity to infodump about githyanki culture. specifically red dragons. if she met a red dragonborn or even maybe a follower of tiamat or some shit she would be so hype. in her "i hate everyone SVAH" way ofc. but like. trying to casually slide trivia into battle conversation or party banter with all the subtlety of an owlbear. "yes... the battle preparations are proceeding as expected... as expected a red dragons hibernation cycle..." and everyone just has to turn their head and ask what the fuck shes talking abt

(can be thought of as silverweave: lae'zel and gale talk in draconic about dragon history and the celestial plane. hes so tickled to have a mutual interest with lae'zel)

no one hears lae'zel laugh but when they do its so weird. like its some weird like hissing sort of sound and everyone has to do a double take and make sure theyre understanding what the fuck is going on for a second. lae'zel is incredibly defensive when people notice it but theyre not trying to be mean

karlach:

before her engine gets fixed but like early on to where shes not used to it, karlach keeps trying to touch things and keeps breaking them. this fills her with genuine despair and she will start crying (everyone in camp has to go on a group effort to calm her down). she just thinks the world is so beautiful and is so sad she cant interact with it

she likes to dance but in like a boot stompin way. karlach is probably just an absolute party animal when she gets her freedom back because honestly in her situation who wouldnt be. SHE JUST GOT TO NOT BE ON FIRE LET THE GIRL PARTY

once shes been fixed to the point where she can touch people, she just never stops. manhandling everyone in the party constantly. oh whats that? tav is on low health? dont worry karlach is sprinting over to put tav on her shoulder. literally any problem can be solved by karlach hugs and i wont be taking feedback on this

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #lae'zel of k'liir #karlach bg3 #karlach cliffgate #bg3 companions #bg3 headcanons

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months

Text

All the stars are shining bloody red

Previous chapter

a/n not sure if anyone's even waited for part two but this has been so fun to write so I hope y'all will give this a read. 🤍✨

summary: just what happens when an innocent night at the pleasure house leads to something much bigger, making two lost soles collide.

warning: choking, seductive behavior, past trauma idk not many warnings.

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

"Sing her a song, an ancient lullaby", you hummed, dragging the brush through your curls. A distant memory of the song that twirled for as long as you could remember. "Make her eyes as shiny as sapphires gleam", you sang, moving to twist the braid, neatly wrapping it around the crown of your head. "Only your love can make her cursed heart beat." Pushing a pin with a pearl attached to the top of it, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror; the scattered frame looked right at you. As if the glass was broken yet you knew it wasn't, "Only you can make her see the truth", the toon died down quickly, overpowered by the banging on your door. The sudden sound made you drop the pin in your head as you wrung around. "You're needed in twenty minutes", the voice roared, and you found yourself nodding even if you were sure she couldn't see you.

As you stepped out of your room, the other girls were almost ready too. Fussing over one another as they fixed each other's hair and makeup. You often wondered what it was like to have friends like that. Or at least someone willing to help you out in some way. "Did you see who was in the crowd last night?", one of the blondes beamed. "I heard that Mother Myriam talked to the high lord himself", the other cut in, making a handful of girls gasp. "Do you think they'll be here tonight?", "Oh, if they are, the one with the broody face is mine". The fuss truly hasn't died down, it seems. Falling asleep was nearly impossible last night because the girls took ages to settle.

"Is it such a big deal?", you asked almost shyly, pushing them all turn your way. "Are you kidding?", the girl from the back snorted. "That's the high lord's family. That is the biggest deal there could be, silly". You lowered your head quickly with a nod. There were a lot of things that were still new to you. There were so many questions that you didn't have the answer to. "What do you think Mother Myrian would gift you if you got one of them into the back room?", Sylia was Myriam's favorite for a reason. That girl was ready to do anything. You doubted that she had any moral codes, but that was what got her so far. What gave her freedom? A chance to walk freely. To be her own creature. Something you would probably never know the feeling of.

It felt like whatever happened in that pleasure house had changed everything. Well, not for most. Mor was happy that she proved her point. That was more than enough for her. Everyone had talked about it the following morning. The mesmerizing gaze was still present until Rhys slammed his fist onto the table. Everyone had turned his way, and it was like he had felt under the spotlight. He pushed his chair back quickly as he walked out of the dining room.

Azriel said nothing about the conversation in the basement. He didn't bring up the fact that Rhys was somehow tangled in this as well. Or was he? It scattered Azriel's head as well, because he had, for the longest time, been sure that there were no secrets between them. Rhys had always made the point that honesty was the key to loyalty. And now that seemed like a rock that had been thrown into his garden. His high lord's head was bowed low as Azriel strolled through his office door. The information containing the names of all attendees was neatly written down, along with any other information that his shadows managed to gather.

Azriel knew that what Rhys now needed was for him to just drop the file on the side of the table and leave. But Azriel didn't care for Rhys's feelings. "Can I ask you something", Azriel said, turning back to his high lord. Rhys lifted his head, tired eyes looking at his shadow singer, and said, "Of course", "What do you know about that pleasure house?" Azriel made sure to emphasize your part, just in case. "Where is this coming from?", Rhys tried to ask, and yes, there was a pleading look in his eyes that requested Azriel to just drop this for now. That he will say everything when the time comes.

"Oh, we both know where this is coming from. Who the hell is Myriam?", That's been the only, or at least the most eager, question in his head. That felt like something personal. It wasn't just two strangers. Rhys knew that woman. But how? From were? Who was she? Did Feyre know about her?

"Azriel...", Rhys pleaded; he didn't even order him to stop; he was still hopeful that Azriel would do it on his own. "Rhys, you had me monitoring that place all night", Azriel stepped closer, and a deep sigh left the high lord's lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She has something really valuable, and now that so many eyes have been drawn to it... If bad hands take hold of it, Azriel, the war like no other will break".

What was that, then? Why it? Why not speak of it? Didn't he trust him enough to share? He was the spymaster, and these things were his concern. "Fine", Azriel waved a hand in front of himself, "Don't say it straight to my face. I'll figure it out myself", and with a harsh slam to the door, he was off.

"I need five lucky fellas, or ladies, for that matter", Myriam said with that usual smirk on her face. Hands clasped in front of her in excitement, making other girls giddy as well. Everyone had been so giddy. "Things will be changing from now on. If it all works out, you might be finding yourselves in between the luxury sheets every night moving forward", happy clapping filled the place, with girls holding onto one another as they cheered. Yet you didn't share that same amusement. There was no happy thrill in your veins. If anything, you hated this. Hated it all.

Most of the girls started to spread out. Walking towards the tables, they got ready at or just split into little groups to talk. "Y/N, a word", your eyes jerked up as you stepped forward quickly, "Mother Myriam", you breathed out. The older woman looked down on you. Making you feel so small. So unworthy. There used to be a time when you thought that there was warmth in her eyes when she looked at you. Now you were sure that you had imagined it.

"I don't have to remind you of your loyalty to me, do I?", she asked firmly, and you quickly shook your head. "Your gifts would be wasted elsewhere, my gem", Her long nail jabbed the skin beneath your chin, pushing your head up and scraping the delicate skin there in the process. "And I saved you, remember?", You nod once more, biting the insides of your cheeks, trying to keep your fear at bay. "It was I who sacrificed so much so you could live", Her palm came to rest on her chest, right above where her heart should have been. Should have. "Do your thing, darling, and don't disappoint me", she said through gritted teeth, suddenly pinching your chin harshly.

Azriel was watching it all again. The sound of the music, humming. The way your eyes shifted as the same greenish mist draped all over the place. The dim corner hid him perfectly. His shadows were all over the place; just tonight they had been blended so neatly in between every corner and each side that no one or any talk could slip past his knowledge.

Azriel listened to your voice, which surprisingly didn't reach him tonight. Had he imagined the beauty of it? No, it was beautiful. The most beautiful voice he had heard. It just didn't stop his heart tonight. He watched as those same greenish swirls twirled around a couple of guests seated in different parts of the room. Lulling them to the point of complete bliss. The spymaster frowned. He only saw five people surrounded by them. Why them? Why not the others? Then the girls from the stage quickly swirled toward the males. No heads turned their way. Their hands were on them the moment they got close. Smothering them with soft touches and nuzzling against them.

Then the room went so dark that even Azriel lost his sight for a moment, and when he could finally see, the five males were gone. So were the chairs. The crowd let out a satisfied sigh as if they had regained their power to breathe just then. The sound of the music suddenly started to fade, and the same set of females, now dressed in expensive lingerie, twirled around the tables. Azriel's eyes darted back to the stage. You were gone. What in the living moon had just happened? Where was the males he saw moments ago? Where were you? Why weren't you among the girls eager to sit on anyone's lap?

You lingered backstage tonight. Peaking through the drawn-out curtains as Sylia wrapped herself around no doubt another high bidder. The man pushed a handful of bills down her bra, and she batted her lashes so hard at him. You frowned. Why would anyone willingly do this? Myriam paid well as it was, and this? To be groped on all night long? You shouldn't care, in all honesty. They were all of age and allowed to do what they wanted, but still...

You turned to walk back to your room. Eager to enjoy the static sound of silence for a bit. None of the girls were returning early tonight. The place was packed. They will be there, draining them all raw. Myriam got her batch as well. So she wouldn't be by your door, barking for you to explain yourself. You did your part and earned some rest, and you were going to take full advantage of it.

The floorboard behind you creaked, making you swirl back, but the darkness of the backstage corridor made it hard for you to see anything. It had to be a rat or, well, anything. No one could enter this part of the building. You turned back around, only to be met with a big wall of shadows. Letting out a yelp, you staged back. Back hitting a solid surface. A wall? There was no wall there. Until a hand wraps itself around your throat, tightening enough to cut off air but not enough to break your neck,

"No, please", you choke out, your hands trying to take hold of the wrist, but it was so thick you couldn't even wrap both of your palms around it. "What the fuck is this place, huh?", the voice roared in your ear, making a cold shiver run down your back. "Please don't make me", You gasped for air in between every word, yet the grip around your throat didn't ease. "Where are those males now?", How did he know? How did he see that? No one was conscious enough to see or think clearly when that part of the performance came. A panic ran through your mind and body before you reached back, cupping the sides of the intruder's face before muttering, "I'm so sorry."

When Azriel finally opened his eyes, he felt as if he had been beaten to the pulp by a whole Illyrian male village. His mind felt hazy. Yet the coolness surrounding his body soothed the aches all over. Where was he before he fell asleep? Did he... Azriel suddenly tried to jerk up, yet he only managed to lift his head. His body seemed to be glued to the surface that he was lying on. Looking around frantically, he saw those same greenish shadows, and his mind quickly welcomed him with the knowledge of what had happened. Azriel followed you. He had you so close for a moment. He remembers the way his heart sped up when he inhaled your scent, and then you reached for him.

The tiny door opened up, and he watched as you nodded at something before flashing the person in front of you a fake smile and closing the door. Azriel began to move around frantically, and your head jerked his way. Shhh, don't move, and please don't scream", You put a finger to your lips, stopping to listen to the sound outside the door. Had you not told on him? Was Rhys not already fuming that Azriel had gotten caught?

"How did you take me out?", Azriel groaned, his eyes piercing yours. A light bruise was forming around your neck, which made a cold chill run down his spine. He didn't intend to leave a mark, and he didn't think that he pressed that hard to hurt you. Just slightly cut off the oxygen flow. "With my hands", you lifted both of your palms, looking at them. "Your hands? With those hands?", Azriel asked, and you quickly rolled your eyes. "Sorry, can we try not to be so sexist?" Azriel let out a frustrated growl as he tried to free himself. This all had to be a joke.

"Are they similar to my mist?", Your voice was almost a whisper, and Azriel looked up from where he had tried to pull a dagger from under his belt. One of his shadows was neatly placed around your palm, swallowing it all before plopping on the shell of your palm. "No, and I'm not here to answer your questions. Let me go." Your sad gaze looked back to the black creature before you twisted your palm, and Azriel slumped slightly, moving his arms and legs quickly to stop himself from falling.

"There is no way for you to get out of here now. Lights go out in...", You turned toward the tiny moon clock on your desk. "Twenty minutes. I'll walk you to the closest exit", "I don't need an escort", Azriel snarled, trying to take in as much of this space as he could because he was almost convinced this was the room his shadows had tried to seep into the previous night. "And I wasn't asking", you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's that or...", but you cut yourself off. Blinking a couple of times before turning away from Azriel.

Mother above, what was this place, and what were you all, weird creatures? "Sure, do your thing", Azriel said, earning one more glance from you. "So you will follow me?", you asked almost in disbelief, and Azriel wanted to laugh. Truly laugh at all of this nonsense. "As if you can't force me to do so", he said, your eyes growing big and your cheeks turning slightly pink as you lower your head.

It was probably the stupidest thing ever, but only now did you realize that you didn't even ask the stranger's name. You observed him while he was asleep. The way some of the messy curls had fallen onto his forehead. You had reached out to neatly smooth them back in, and the moment your fingers touched him, it felt like lightning had run through you. And then he woke up, and you realized where you had seen him before.

Your fantom hands had neatly smothered him to death the other night, and you had never been more mortified. You couldn't understand what had happened. The green, lulling mist was one thing but your phantom touche - what had triggered it? You had pulled away in time, but it's like something within you snapped. But he looked unharmed and unshaped today, so surely it didn't affect him.

You could feel his warmth behind you. It was strange how he had thrown a fuss that didn't suit his large frame one moment and then settled on following you the next. But you were glad that he did because if Myriam came across him... you weren't going to let that happen. He trusted you to help him, so you were going to get him out. Not to mention that it felt so surreal to have someone trust you. For the first time...

Rounding the last corner, you stopped quickly as the sound of gasping filled your ears. The male nearly ran into you as he too halted. You reached for his hand, subconsciously dragging him the other way. You wondered if you should have told him off for coming here in general. That he was one of the males the girls wanted to charm so much, but maybe he wanted to be charmed.

The moonlight that seeped through the door you had opened nearly blinded you. You quickly put a hand in front of your eyes as you stepped out, letting the male walk onto the dirty back street. "You're on your own from here", you said softly. "Just make sure...", but Azriel quickly cut in, "What did you say to me back then? I'm sorry?", Your brows scrunched as you tried to figure out what he meant. You didn't have enough time as he lunged forward, grabbing onto your head from both sides, saying, "I'm also sorry", you didn't manage to even take a breath before everything went black.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 8 months

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [38]

chapter thirty-eight, act five: the ballad of me and my brain

masterlist

June 3rd 2017

The little sparkly silver birthday hat sits crooked on Tommie’s head, her freshly cut short hair in a mess and her bangs are fluffed out of control. There’s silver sparkles on her forehead, catching the light alongside the beads of sweat on her forehead.

She’s wearing her beat up skeleton cowboy boots, a pair of shorts and a new sparkly waistcoat George got her for her birthday.

Her cheeks are flushed but her tipsy smile drops when the door finally swings open, “Matt?”

“Finally!” He complains, pushing his way into the house Adam had rented in Ohio for her birthday, where her surprise birthday party was being held, “Where’s Adam?”

“Um, kitchen, I think….”

He nods, not saying much else, her eyes focus on the burnt out joint he’d dropped and she steps on it quickly before following him inside.

“You’re late.” Carly says, back of her hand hitting Matty’s shoulder as he grabs a glass to fill it with water, tipping it all down himself as he starts downing it. His white

“Late to what,” He looks around leaning against the kitchen counter, “Why’s there so many people in the house right now?”

Carly steps back, then she reaches forward, hand grasping his chin as she opens up his eyes, “Are you high right now?”

“Just on weed.”

She shakes her head and pushes him to the side, “Are you serious?”

“It’s just weed, Carly, calm down. Where’s Adam?”

“Upstairs, I think, getting Tommie’s bir-”

“Great, cheers.” He says before heading for the stairs, almost hitting Tommie over as he passes her.

She leans back so he can pass, brows raised as she meets Carly in the kitchen, “What’s he doing here?”

She crosses her arms and looks back at the door as Carly sighs slowly, “He was supposed to be here hours ago.”

Her head snaps to Carly, her hat falling off her head, being caught by the string which makes it hand around her neck, “You invited him?”

Carly reaches out to fix the hat, brushing her bangs down and then fixing her hair, “Adam invited him. Like two weeks ago ‘cause he was moping around.”

Tommie picks at the skin on her fingernails and sighs, she leans back against the counter with her arms crossed, staring into space and hoping Matty will stay away from her.

The past few months since the Brits have been hell, touring around but feeling completely alone. Of course she had the guys, but only Ross knew what had happened that night, and even he didn’t know everything.

Caleb has stayed away, they’ve been in the same room maybe once since it happened, Gabby had come to tour but she and Matty had gotten hotel rooms and travelled separately leaving the others on the bus.

That’s when Tommie felt like she could breathe again, one less person made the metal container much more bearable to be in.

And now, on this night dedicated to her- something she would’ve hated four years ago if it wasn’t for Matty building up her birthday tolerance- she’d felt the happiest she’d been in months, maybe even years.

With Carly following her around with extra drinks and Adam giving her a slice of pizza every time her hand was empty.

Even Button had been making her feel special by cleaning up her own toys (she didn’t want any of the strangers to steal them so she hid them in different places around the house).

There’s not too many people here, the band and their girlfriends, Jamie and his missus, Denise and Louis had flown over too, some tour helpers and a few other people. Phoebe had sent about ten thousand messages apologising that she couldn’t make it after receiving an invite from Adam.

There’s no Caleb, no Gabby. And until now there had been no Matty.

She sips from her drink again and Carly leans forward to adjust the party hat on her head when it starts slipping again, “Just ignore him, he’s come to see Adam, will probably leave after that.”

She nods with a quiet sigh but quickly smiles when Rome calls her over to ask about one of the presents she’d received.

It’s much later when Matty returns, she hadn’t even realised he’d come back downstairs but a loud racket from the kitchen only she seems to hear has her coming face to face with him.

There’s around three or four smashed glasses on the floor, Matty’s left hand is cut to pieces but he doesn’t seem to mind as he continues to fix himself a drink.

“Matt?”

He looks up, eyes squinting as he leans towards her to see who it is better, “Oh, hey.”

“Oh, hey?”

“Hello, Thomas, such a fine night tisn’t it?”

She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm and leaves the kitchen to head for the bathroom upstairs where Adam had made very clear to everyone is the place he’d stored the first aid kit that they usually keep tucked away on the bus. He’d made the purchase a few shows back when George had cut his finger when trying to make dinner as the bus was moving.

When she returns he’s sipping from the glass and she shakes her head asking him to come with her, “Why?”

“Just… please?”

That’s all it takes, he’s following her into the quiet hallway, and down the little steps out to the porch.

He has many things on the tip of his tongue ready to say but keeps his mouth shut when she forces him to sit.

She sits beside him and wipes the blood from his palm carefully, he winces, the pain sobering him up as he takes his hand away from her.

“I need to get the glass out.”

“How’d that happen?” His brows are furrowed and he’s leaning against her to stay upright.

“I don’t know.”

He winces again and she pulls his hand a little more harshly, “Stop babying me.”

“Stop being a baby.”

He huffs and she holds his hand up when it’s all cleaned up, “I told Gabby I wouldn’t talk to you.”

“Gabby doesn’t want you to talk to me?”

“No, Gabby said we’re bandmates and we have to talk to work well. But I don’t want to talk to you.”

She slides away a little, turning her head to look forward, “Does Caleb let you speak to me?”

“I haven’t spoken to Caleb in four months.”

“You broke up?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

She sighs and shakes her head at him, “You’re all cleaned up, can go finish your drink now.”

“What happened?”

She just looks at him, the party hat crooked and tears in her eyes catching the light reaching them from the kitchen window, reflecting the sparkles on her hat, “Oh…”

She nods as he suddenly realises, but he stands and heads for the door, but she can’t help it. Can’t help asking, reaching out.

“Why, Matt? Why’d you have to ruin it for me?”

“You were miserable.” He shrugs.

“Did you think it would make me happy?” She scoffs, “This life I have now. I’m in some kind of- of limbo with my relationship. With Gabby, with you.”

He shrugs and scuffs his shoes against the pavement, “Exactly, you don’t think Matty, only think about yourself.”

“That’s not true-”

“Not true? Look what’s happened, you’re still with Gabby, still got the guys cause they don’t know what’s happened, you’re fine. I lost my boyfriend, my best friend, Gabby…”

He shrugs again and she shakes her head one of the tears finally falling, “I’m sorry.” He decides to say, not looking at her, he can’t look at her.

“For what?”

“That you’re in love with me.”

She raises a brow, but then they furrow. And if he’d just look at her he’d see that face he hates seeing. The one that shows her confusion and sadness at the same time, the one that has tears in her eyes and a frown on her lips.

“Cause I’m not in love with you.” He tells her. “I can’t be in love with you now.” He clarifies.

She finds herself holding her breath as he stands, “Why not?”

“I- I can’t.”

She stands in front of him now, party hat long forgotten as she rips it from her head and clutches it in one hand. Giving her something to hold onto, something to hold her back. “Am I that bad? What’s wrong with me, Matty? What’s so wrong with me you can get it up but you can’t fall in love?”

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

It’s not that he’s not in love with her, it’s that he won’t let himself be in love with her.

Of course he’s in love with her, he always has been. But he’ll ruin her, he doesn’t want to ruin her. He wants to get it right, to be sober and love her every second, to spoil her and wake her up with a smile on her face. To have Allen and Button run around together in a garden of their own house, a house they’ll buy and move into together.

But they can’t have that.

He can’t give her the life he wants her to have, he knows Caleb won’t either, which is why he worked so hard to split them up. He’ll agree he went about it all wrong but he just wants her to find someone good, who can give her everything he wants to give her and more.

But at the same time he doesn’t want her to find that if it’s not with him. It’s why he worked so hard to sabotage her and Caleb’s relationship.

“Go back to the stupid party,” He tells her, “Find another friend of Adam’s to fall in love with.”

She stands, speaking before he disappears down the pathway, “Do you know what this stupid party’s for, Matt?”

He shrugs, kicking at the floor which causes him to lose his balance for a few seconds. He stumbles, and she clutches the party hat even tighter not to reach out and steady him.

She’s tired of being the one to steady him.

“It’s my birthday.”

He stays silent, still not looking at her, “Twenty-three today.”

Still he says nothing, so she goes on to fill the silence. It’s never silent between them. Usually it’s filled with their shared laughter, or calm breaths or skipped beats of the heart.

“You know, coincidentally, that’s the age you were when everything between us started going to shit.”

“Tom-”

“It’s the truth, we haven’t been us, Matty and Tommie, for a very long time. And- I’m tired of trying for us to be that way.”

“We’re fine, perfect….”

“We haven’t talked since February, Matt. We’ve been on tour for almost five months now, and haven't said a word to each other…”

“I fucked up, I know that-”

“Yeah, you did. We both did.” She admits, “But I can’t-” She shakes her head, “I don't like feeling this way.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try harder-”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ma-”

“Then what are you saying? I never know what you’re trying to say. So just say it. Outright, fucking say it.”

“I hate that I’m in love with you.”

The door behind them opens, Adam pops his head out, “More pizza’s here.”

She keeps staring at Matty, he looks back up at her, Adam doesn’t move.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” He says simply.

She nods, watching him turn, hands shoved in his jacket pocket as he heads out into the street, head ducked to protect himself from the rain and disappears from their view.

She tosses the hat away from her and sits on the steps of the house, arms wrapped around herself as she watches the hat get washed away down the street in the rain.

Adam sighs, “Come on inside, it’s raining.”

She shakes her head, lighting a cigarette from in the pocket of her shorts and staring out into the street, “What’s going on?” Adam asks after he’s sat beside her on the greying steps.

She shakes her head but he nudges her, “Come on, put that big smile back on your face. I’ve missed it.”

“I’m lonely,” She says, arms wrapped around herself, a fresh cigarette in her mouth. Adam looks at the ashtray beside her, there’s fourteen cigarettes in there, and he hopes to God that it hasn’t been cleaned out for a few days. But they’ve only been here for a day, he hopes there’s a few other smokers here, but she and George are the only two that he's seen disappeared for a smoke tonight.

“I can’t sleep.” She says again, taking a deeper drag, “I think I’m depressed,” She tells him, “Or Autistic.”

“Oh, you’re definitely Autistic.” Adam says and she cracks a little smile as she looks down. “You can be both. Have you… talked to anyone about it?”

She shrugs, “Like who? Caleb?” She scoffs, “Haven't seen him since February, he’s avoiding me.”

“Why?”

“Cause he knows I’m going to break up with him,” She sighs, “Matty was right…”

“Wow, never thought I’d hear you of all people admit to Matthew Healy being right.”

She chuckles, but it turns into a weird strangled sob as her entire face contorts and she starts crying, leaning her head onto Adam’s shoulder.

“I hate him.” Adam’s not sure who she’s talking about, Matty or Caleb at this point.

“He- I hate him. Can’t stand him. He makes me hate myself… and he’s so… so American-” Caleb then, “And condescending, he has to correct the way I talk and makes me feel stupid around his friends, and I…”

“Break up with him then.”

“I can’t do it over the phone-”

“Email?”

She chuckles again, rubbing at her nose harshly, “I can’t do that. It would break me if it happened to me-”

“He knows that, that’s why he’s avoiding you.”

“You know, the end approached us before the beginning.” She says.

He readjusts his grip, pulling her back a bit so the rain won;t hit her legs, “Why did you start dating him?”

“He listened to me… and I don't know, I felt like it was a way to distract me I guess…”

“From what?” She breathes in, chest stuttering, she considers telling him. She thinks over how it will go, how she will say it, how he will react, their relationship once it’s revealed.

‘I slept with Matty, the day before I saw Caleb… we fell out over it so I went on a date with him to get back at Matty, make him feel the way he made me feel.’

‘You slept with my best friend? Are you serious? What’s wrong with-’

“Life…”

He hums, “Not to make Matty jealous?”

She looks up at him slowly, “Why would I do that?”

He chuckles, “I’m not stupid, Tommie, or blind. I know everything-”

She turns to the door in realisation of her loose mouthed best friend, “Ross! I’m gonna kill him, he told you-”

“Everything.”

She winces, head ducking down as she closes her eyes, “Ads-”

He shrugs, “You can talk to me about that kind of stuff you know-” He is quick to jump in and correct himself, “Not sex stuff… Please don’t tell me about that.”

She giggles a little, sniffling with a nod, “Okay… not even about how he-”

He unravels his arms to plug his ears and she laughs again.

He grins at the fact he got her to smile again, he pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head, “Break up with Caleb, focus on yourself, don’t worry about Matty or the band right now. Take time off if you need it-”

She shakes her head, “I’m not quitting the band.”

“It’s not quitting, more like taking a break. No one will know, we’ll say you’re ill or something.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not leaving, not taking a break. I’m fine.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“It’s not a push, more of a slow drag.” She says which has him laughing again as he shakes her a little.

“Promise me if it gets too much you’ll just stop. Go home, have time to yourself. I’ll come with you if you need it.”

She nods, lifting her hand and they link pinky fingers, “I will, Ads, don’t worry.”

“I always worry.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

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dracowars · 2 years

Note

hi! can I make a request where reader hid that she’s a member of dumbledore’s army to draco and draco only knew when they got busted ? thank you very much! i love your works !!

step on my heart | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,4k

summary: where y/n lies to draco about dumbledore’s army

a/n: it’s been a while! thank you to everyone who is still here, reading my fics <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, cursing

universe: harry potter

The moment a deafening bang rings out through the Room of Requirement, you recoil in fear, dropping your wand on the floor in shock. Rocks that broke off the wall due to the sudden explosion fly through the room, dragging a huge layer of dust behind them. Standing still, you have to endure how several pieces of the concrete wall hit you painfully, cutting your skin open. The dense dust swirling around the air blocks your view momentarily, making you violently cough several times as it works its way into your lungs. Your school uniform is covered in fine dust, as is your hair. You press your lips together in pain and look at the palm of your hand, which you used to shield yourself from the dangerous projectiles. A red deep scratch runs all the way across it, allowing a little blood to spill. Your brain not quite grasping the situation yet, you look in the direction where the door to the secret room would usually be but is now replaced by a gaping hole in the thick wall of the castle.

Only minutes before everything was fine. You stood in a circle with your friends, almost all of whom you met through this organization, laughing at a story by Luna Lovegood while other students from all different houses busily practiced their Patronus Charm with the mechanical death eaters. You were above all clouds today because you finally managed to summon your own Patronus in the form of an animal. It was breathtaking, seeing the blue sparkle jump across the air. You have always had extreme difficulties in summoning it and had almost given up hope, but Harry believed in you and so you finally succeeded. You could not be happier.

At least until the fog of dust in front of you suddenly clears and this feeling of ecstasy that was just running through your veins is completely extinguished in a heartbeat.

Professor Umbridge is standing in the newly created hole that is now replacing the large door. She is not alone, however, because not only Mr. Filch is with her and looks at you angrily, but also her lackeys, or as she likes to call them, the Inquisitorial Squad. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is also between them, and you catch his eye as he pulls Cho Chang into your field of vision. As soon as your eyes meet, he lets her go.

The disappointment and utter disbelieve you see in his eyes instantly breaks your heart and the pain that follows, stretching across his features, almost kills you, taking you the air to breathe.

You wanted to tell him, but you could not. And now it is too late.

As Umbridge’s voice rings out to you from afar, tears well up in your eyes. You can literally see Draco is trying to deny what just happened, what he just saw and found out. Namely that his girlfriend is a member of Dumbledore’s Army, a member of exactly that group he is trying to destroy as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. But the worst thing is that you did not confide in him and lied to him at the same time. ‘I am going to study with Hermione in the library’, you told him after he asked you this morning if you wanted to do something together, to spend some time with each other.

You lied to him, with all the coldness you could muster, and that is exactly what Draco is realizing in this moment, which is why he does not even wait for the end of Umbridge’s victorious speech and disappears, shaking his head in disapproval. Without thinking about your next steps, you run after him, past Umbridge and her lackeys, who are yelling something at you. But you could not care less right now.

Loudly, you shout after Draco, who disappears around the next corner, and you pick up your pace to reach him. He stops at the end of the aisle as you call out to him again, hearing the sadness in your voice as you reach out for him as if this would make it easier for you to get a hold of him.

“What the hell do you want from me, Y/N?!”, he immediately yells at you, briefly startling you even though you know full well that you deserve every single bit of his anger and that it is the only natural reaction to your behavior. The only real reaction to betrayal, lies, insidiousness. To pain.

“Listen, it is not like th- I wanted to tell you”, you stumble over your own words as you draw closer and fall into his unyielding gaze. You have seen him upset or sad many times over the past years, but never like he looks right now. “I- I was not allowed to..”

“Oh, yes? And you expect me to believe you?”, Draco replies angrily, but the pain is clearly evident in his unsteady voice.

“I never had any intention of hurting you, that is the last thing I would ever want, Draco. You have to believe me!”, you say desperately and feel a stab in your heart when you want to grab his hand and he pulls it away abruptly, immediately taking a step back to bring distance between the two of you.

“And yet you took my heart and stepped on it like it meant nothing. I trusted you and this is how you repay me that trust? By betraying me?”, he replies, hurt, sadness slowly taking over the seething anger.

“I wanted to do something good. Umbridge is a wicked witch and Dumbledore’s Army gave me safety, a sense of belonging and-”

“Dumbledore’s Army? You even have a name for this pathetic group?”, Draco interrupts roughly, frowning at your words.

“That woman has forbidden us everything, she-”

“She has forbidden that no student organization or team or group or club exists without her knowledge and approval! You broke her rule”, he interrupts you again, only adding to your emotional outburst as he does not even let you finish a single sentence.

“That may be the case, but according to her stupid rules we are not even allowed to be within six inches of each other!”, you yell at him now, angry, not being able to keep your emotions under control anymore because he seems to have been blinded by her to the extent that he does not even question anything anymore, only accepting and carrying out any orders she might have. “Do you even realize what you are supporting?!”

“Are you?”, he asks you seriously, his eyes cold as he watches you search for an appropriate answer, a bit taken aback by the coldness in his voice.

“Yes. I support the good. And if I have to break a hundred other of her rules to finally change something, I will”, you explain to him sincerely, although you doubt that he will understand. Because he is way too stuck in his own beliefs to believe you, the only person he ever trusted, who just incurably broke this trust.

“I have no idea who is standing in front of me anymore”, Draco breathes softly and painfully, avoiding your gaze for a moment, apparently not expecting such an answer.

“Neither do I”, you reply promptly, without batting an eyelid. “Ever since that malicious witch got here, I do not recognize you, Draco. Where is the boy I fell in love with? I made a mistake and I know I should have told you. I know that and I sincerely apologize for it. However, joining Dumbledore’s Army was not a mistake.”

“So you are choosing these people you barely know over me?”, Draco challenges you, tears forming in his eyes despite his anger at not being able to shut down his deepest feelings for you.

“Draco, do not go there. Please. Do not put me in this positi-”

“Me or them, Y/N?”, Draco asks again, his pupils darting wildly between yours as he hopes for what he thinks is the only right answer. Stunned that he is actually making you decide, not even realizing how much better this group of people made you feel when he was not where he should have been, you clench your fists, but stay strong and do not look away. The moment you open your mouth, you both know what words will leave your throat, what pain you both will have to endure. In that exact moment you know it is over.

“Them.”

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bigbangharringrove · 4 months

Text

squeeze your hands (around my bleeding heart)

Author: @billysblueeyes (Ao3: deathinasmalltown) Artist: @dreaminginpencil (Ao3: ShinyDirtyCoin) & @alicetallula (Ao3: tallula03)

Summary:

“It’s really no problem, Mrs. Wheeler.” Steve has to hide his annoyance with her. “I just assumed Holly already learned how to swim.”

The woman’s eyes widen, “uh, she was learning last summer, but then Billy Hargrove…” she trails off faintly.

Billy was possessed and almost died at the tentacle limbs of an interdimensional monster shaped like a giant spider, controlled by a psychotic (former) human with an inferiority complex.

Not that she knew that.

“Who’s doing the lessons this summer?”

“Oh. Well,” she swallows thickly, “Billy is. I was told he was just doing swimming lessons. I guess no one wanted to take on the job again this summer.”

That takes Steve by complete surprise.

It’s the summer of ’86, and Steve is figuring out his life after the party’s latest run-in with the upside down. He’s agreed to chauffeur Holly Wheeler after her swimming lessons, and it gives Steve a real chance at falling in love again. Who would’ve thought it would be with Billy Hargrove? Rating: E Pairings: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Heather Holloway/Robin Buckley Content Warnings: Brief description of (past) non-con

Excerpt:

“Me? Talk to Billy Hargrove?” “He literally saved all our lives and not a single one of us has ever thanked him. And you know his relationship with Max is really good nowadays. And I know you two fought that one time, but weren’t you the one who said you threw the first punch, and he had a point about Max being in that house alone with you boys—” “I remember what I said, it’s just…where do you even go from there? Our entire relationship has been one volatile interaction after the other. Even playing basketball our last season. We could hardly get through a game without him hogging the ball or the two of us not being kicked off the team altogether. That’s why our team sucked. What do I even say to him?” “Hey Billy, no hard feelings for that fight we had that one time. I know we have a bad history, but let’s let bygones be bygones. Also, thanks for saving my life that other time. Out of curiosity, have you ever banged Mrs. Wheeler?” Robin shrugs. “Easy peasy.” Steve contemplates her words. He decides that it definitely doesn’t sound easy peasy. Owning up to your shit is very much an adult thing to do. And even adults don’t do it well. Steve would rather gnaw off his own foot than play out some big apology for any wrong he’s done. And he doubts Billy would even want to hear it from him anyway. Or maybe he would. This would be a lot easier if Steve knew even just a little bit about the blond. The only real thing he knows about Billy Hargrove is how he smells… “Did you know he smells like chlorine, coconut tanning oil, and Aramis?” He decides to change topics, instead. “Uh…no.” Robin looks at him weirdly. “How do you know that.” “I smelled him, obviously.” Robin balks. “Am I supposed to have an opinion on this because that’s a lot to unpack.” “What?! There’s nothing to unpack! I’m just telling you—” “That you know what Billy Hargrove smells like.” She snorts. “You know that sounds really gay, Steve.” His mouth falls open in shock. “So, I can’t appreciate the way the guy smells?!” “Oh. So not only do you know how he smells…you like it? What’s next, you think his body is attractive?” Steve turns away from her and busies himself with the return box by the front desk, piling tapes in his arms. “Oh. My. God.” Robin squeals. “You do!” “I just appreciate the fact that he kept his physique after everything that happened to him! Plus, he cut his hair to his ears; it’s really curly! That, and his scars look cool! That’s all!” “That’s all?” Robin chases after him as he goes to put the tapes on their respective shelves. “That’s all?!” She presses herself against his back, squeezing her arms around his waist and practically screams in his ear. “THAT’S ALL?!” “Get off of me!” Steve pushes back until she lets him go. “Steve, we have to talk about this new addition to your sexuality!” “No.” He turns to glare at her. “There’s no new addition!” “You like Billy Hargrove!” She whisper-screams. “No! I like women! I hate Billy Hargrove!” “Have you never seen a romantic comedy in your life?! This is always how it starts!”

#harringrovebbpreview2023 #harringrove bigbang

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sunoorintarou · 8 months

Text

Catharsis: Hair holds memories

Phos!reader x (Platonic) Shoko Ieiri

Warnings: Angsty to comfort-ish, general themes found in Catharsis

Notes: The urge to post like 5 parts all at once😔

"Ah, Y/n, it's been a while." Shoko looked up from her desk, noticing your figure in the doorway.

"Shoko - Sensei, sorry for being such a bother." You frowned, nervously scratching the back of your head.

"Not at all. What happened?" She asked, ready to use her cursed technique on you.

"Oh, I'm not hurt, I just-" you paused, looking at your feet. You weren't quite sure if Shoko was the right person to ask, but she was the only person you trusted enough.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"I- I want to cut my hair, but I can't do it myself, so I wanted to ask if you could help." You said, fidgeting with your fingers. Shoko's eyes widened, humming as she looked at you before smiling kindly.

"Sure, take a seat."

You were silent as Shoko prepared, waiting for her patiently as she grabbed a mirror, putting it on the desk in front of you.

"How short do you want it? Any styles in mind?" She asked.

"Uhm, pretty short, about here, with messy bangs." You motioned. Shoko's eyes widened, immediately realising who's hairstyle you were taking inspiration from. Her heart softened as she began, letting you think in your own world.

Shoko felt regretful to an extent. Although, unlike the others, she understood that these things simply happened sometimes and no amount of regret could change what had already happened.

You were a bright kid. Kind with the prettiest smile. Shoko thought back to when you first arrived. Before you were allowed to join the team in missions.

You'd spent the majority of your time with her. Acting as her assistant, listening to her intently as she explained how to treat certain words that she didn't need to use her cursed technique for.

You were always so enthusiastic, waiting for your teammates to return from missions, helping her treat minor injuries. Watching over them vigilantly.

In all honesty, Shoko missed you. She missed how you'd spend days at a time with her, helping her with whatever she was doing. She missed when you'd run to her with a wide smile, tackling her in your embrace with a loud, "Shoko - Sensei!". She missed when you'd scold her for smoking with a wisdom beyond your years, claiming you wanted her alive and healthy for as long as you lived, and after that.

She missed when you'd ask her to do your hair, when you'd make silly mistakes and look at her with an innocent smile, when you'd skip class, telling Gojo you were going to the bathroom only to show up at her door. She never had the heart to chase you away. When you'd speak to her about your true feelings and confide your worries in her as if she were your elder sister more than your teacher.

And a part of Shoko wondered that if she'd perhaps said one thing different, if you'd still be the happy child you once were.

Yet, Shoko knew first hand that in the Jujutsu world, lively kids like you never stayed the same.

She thought back to one specific conversation she had with you. One about how hair held memories. And as she snipped away pieces of your hair, she understood your decision.

When she was done, she patted your shoulders, smiling at you. "It looks good on you. You look pretty."

"Thank- thank you, Shoko - Sensei." You looked in the mirror, smiling softly. You were worried your team would find it weird. They had been out on a mission for a while after all.

"Don't worry so much. It looks good."

"Shoko - Sensei, I-" You hesitated. You missed Shoko as much as she missed you. In your mind, however, you couldn't rely on anyone. It would make you weak, after all.

"Here." Shoko suddenly interrupted, pulling out a carton of banana milk from the mini fridge she was supposed to be using to house medication. She handed it to you, your eyes widening at the gesture.

"I always keep some for you here. It's a habit now." She smiled, so gently your eyes began to glaze over. Banana milk was your favorite. You'd always buy at least one a day, claiming that it was to you what cigarettes were to her, just healthier.

When you had started spending the majority of your time with her, she had started buying them for you and keeping them in the fridge so you wouldn't have to run half way across the school to get some. Even though that was months ago, she hadn't stopped. Shoko still waited for you.

"I'm always here, you know. You don't have to tough out your injuries by yourself. You made me buy all those coloured bandages and patterned plasters for a reason. They haven't been used in a while." She laughed.

You looked up at Shoko with teary eyes, lips trembling when she gently ruffled your hair.

You suddenly stood up, looking at the ground as you fiddled with the sleeves of your hoodie. Before Shoko could say anything, you wrapped your arms around her in a quick embrace. Shoko's hugs were always warm and comforting.

"Thank you, Shoko - Sensei." You whispered into her neck, letting your body relax in her grasp for a split second before you pulled away.

"I- I'll visit you next time I get injured." You stuttered, nervously scratching the back of your neck.

"I'll be waiting." Shoko smiled, watching as you left. She sat down at her desk, opening the top shelf. Inside was a picture of a group of teenagers. A boy with white hair, a boy with black hair, and a girl with brown hair.

Shoko inhaled deeply, closing the compartment. A sad smile spread across her cheeks. If there was one thing she wished, it was that you'd never have to feel what she did.

But she supposed it was already too late.

#houseki no kuni #jjk angst #jjk x hnk crossover #land of the lustrous #phos!reader #catharsis #hnk x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #platonic shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen shoko #shoko x reader

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catierambles · 5 months

Text

Alternate Instincts Ch.18

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

Warnings: talks of past severe injury involving surgery and near-death

August sighed as he looked over the information that had been sent to his phone, scrolling through the hospital and accident reports.

“Fuck.” He said, pulling up his contacts and calling Geralt. He felt like they should know, but he didn't feel like repeating himself.

“Hey.” Geralt said when he picked up, “Stephanie and Mike are in the house and I don't feel like seeing Mike's ass.”

“Didn't need to talk to her anyway. I'm putting you on speaker.” He said, backing into a somewhat quiet corner. “Sy, Walter, come here.” They headed over to him, leaning on their pool cues. “I have Geralt.”

“What's up?” Sy asked.

“I had someone look into Stephanie's accident when she was a teen.” August said, “He just sent me the hospital and police reports about it.”

“Why would you do that?” Walter asked and he shrugged.

“Old habits.” August said.

“What did he find?” Geralt asked.

“It was a lot worse than she said. A lot worse.”

“She said she got banged up, lotsa internal bleedin'.” Sy reminded him.

“Markus, her chest was crushed, both lungs collapsed, as well as the lacerated liver that she told you and Geralt about.” August said.

“Shit.” Sy said.

“There was a fault with the passenger airbags, they never deployed.” He said, “Her friend that was driving got off with cuts and scrapes, comparatively.”

“How many times?” Geralt asked, “How many times did she code?”

“Three.” August said, “She coded three times on the operating table. She didn't get one transfusion, she got several, she kept bleeding it out.”

“Fuck.” Geralt said.

“They were going to call it after the third time, but then her heart just started beating on it's own again and her vitals stabilized.” August said and there was a pause.

“The last transfusion.” Walter said and he nodded. “I bet you all a tenner it was wolf blood.”

“It didn't just make it so our wolves recognized her, it saved her life.” He said, “She recovered in record time, the doctors that worked on her called it a miracle in their reports. Hospitals have to track and keep records of where they get blood from, especially if they're used during procedures, just in case the recipient has an adverse reaction. My contact tracked down the last transfusion bag number, got the name of the donor and I cross referenced it with Council records.”

“Wolf?” Sy asked and he nodded.

“An Alpha, runs territory and a pack up in Spokane.” August said, “Donated during a high school blood drive.”

“Well now we know for certain.” Sy said, “Shit, though. We almost lost her before we had her.”

“Let's settle the tab and go home. I need to see her.” Walter said and Sy nodded, heading for the bar to pay the bill.

Stephanie and Mike were in the living room when they got home, their hair wet from a recent shower. Geralt was sitting on the other side of her on the couch, his hand wrapped around her knee, thumb moving back and forth over her skin bared by the shorts.

“Hey.” She said, smiling as she saw them, “Did you guys have fun?” Her smile fell, though, at their serious expressions. “What happened after I left?”

“Nothin', babe.” Sy said, “You're fine.” He pulled her to standing with his hands wrapped around hers, pulling her against his chest. “You're fine.”

“Sy?” She asked, pulling away to look up at him. “Geralt was broody, more than usual, when he came inside, now you guys are looking like someone died. What happened?”

“Nothing, love.” Walter said, coming over to lay his hand on her back. “Just...happy to see you.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Stephanie said.

"You almost died." August said and she looked at him.

"We talking about Jordan?" She asked but he shook his head.

"Your accident." He said, "You almost died. Getting wolf blood saved you, Steph, got your heart beating again. They were going to call it, stop resuscitation efforts, but you came back."

"They told me it had been rough." She said, "But didn't give me details besides what I told you."

"You almost died." He said again.

"It don't matter." Sy said, "It was twenty some years ago, it don't matter. You're here, you're alive, you're safe."

"The past doesn't matter." Mike said, "Just the present."

“Using my own words against me?” She asked, trying to push down the panic rising in her throat.

“Worked for me.” Mike said with a shrug. Geralt pushed up from the couch, pulling her from Sy's arms and into his own, holding her against his chest.

"You're alive." He whispered, tucking his face into her neck.

"You all didn't know me back then." She said, "Mike was in kindergarten."

"Doesn't matter." Geralt said, "I could have lost my Mate before I found her."

"Our Mate." Walter said and Geralt wove his fingers in her hair, tilting her face up to him and kissing her, his eyes closed.

“Your guys' reaction is freaking me out more than anything else.” She said when he pulled away.

“Sorry, doll, it's just...” Sy stopped with a sigh, “We almost lost you. I told you, if you hadn't survived, we wouldn't have a Mate. Our Mate would have been dead before we knew she existed."

“But you did survive.” Mike said, “And we do have a Mate, and I have my Alpha. So the fact that you almost didn't doesn't count.”

“Post-nut clarity?” Sy asked.

“I have transcended.” Mike said and her snort turned into a laugh despite herself. She suddenly gave a squeak of surprise as Geralt ducked quickly, throwing her over his shoulder and heading for the stairs.

“It's bedtime, I guess.” She said.

“Not even gonna fight it?” Sy called after them.

“Nope! Lesson in futility! Goodnight!” They heard his room door close a moment later and Sy snorted, shaking his head.

He smelled like wood smoke still from the fire he had built, his skin warm, his chest hair slightly coarse as he held her. He had kept his boxer briefs on when he got undressed, wanting closeness more than intimacy.

“It really rattled you, didn't it.” She said, looking up at him from her spot on his chest.

“Yes.” He said simply.

“The others, too.”

“Wolves are usually Mike's age when they find their Mate.” He explained, “I came to terms with the idea that I didn't have one a long time ago. I think the others did, too.”

“Then I showed up.” She said and he hummed.

“The fact that I do have one, but she almost died long before I found her. It...” He sighed.

“Almost only counts for horseshoes and hand grenades.” He cracked an eye open, looking down at her with an arched brow. “Something my dad used to say.” She shrugged.

“Used to?” He asked, “When did he...”

“Oh, he's still alive.” Stephanie said, “As far as I know. He and mom got divorced when I was sixteen and Jack was in college. Haven't seen him since.” He just hummed again, his brow furrowed in a scowl. “What?”

“He abandoned his child a year after he almost lost her.”

“I guess he hated mom so much that he didn't like us, either.” She said, “We weren't kids. Jack was almost Mike's age, so it's not like mom could stop him from contacting us. He just never did.” His scowl just deepened. “Geralt, it was almost twenty years ago. The man hasn't been in my life longer than he was, even before they got divorced. He was in the Navy, so he was deployed a lot. Mom didn't feel like following him from base to base, so we always stayed put. I saw him maybe a few months out of the year, got calls on Christmases and birthdays if I was lucky and he remembered.”

“You're his child.”

“He didn't care.” She said and he sighed. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Where's your parents?”

“I don't have any. No Tracker does.” He said it so simply that it made her sit up a little. “Council takes in orphan or unwanted pups and trains them to hunt Ferals.”

“That's—”

“Hunting Ferals is dangerous. Best if there's no one to go home to, or question if they go missing.” He said and looked at her when she held the side of his face, her thumb moving over the high of his cheek.

“You have me.” His hand slid over hers, holding it to his jaw.

“I know.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #alternate instincts

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aurora567 · 3 months

Text

Magenta

Warning for smut, gun play, breath play, killing, blood, torture, drug use. Just over all a slightly darker themed one shot. I feel like it is rather canon style violence based on the Tokyo Renengers manga. So this is your warning this fic is a bit darker than my other works.

Word count: 3,595

The sounds of heels clicking against the cement floor was barely audible over the muffled cries that had been filling the mostly empty warehouse. Her footsteps were not the only ones. The body beside her walking in time with her also gave off a slight click with the heel of his dress shoes. Chizu glanced over at the two men who had been left to guard their captives. A nudge of her head had the two goons quickly leaving them alone. That caused the panicked muffled crying to become louder from the two men who were tied down to some chairs that had been bolted to the floor.

“Oh they look like they are about to piss themselves,” her companion says with a wide smirk. A quick glance over at the pink haired man showed off the wide smirk that pulled at his scarred lips. Was it his crazed look on his face or his poor sense in fashion that scared people, she wondered? He always wore some of the most odd suits. And he paid a lot for them she was sure as each was built to fit him perfectly and yet he always picked some of the oddest or ugliest designs of fabric. Then again most of the Bonten executives seemed to have the worst taste in clothes .

While he looked crazy, she was more put together. Bleached hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. Her bangs framing her face. She looked like a typical office worker. A simple white blouse, a dark jacket over top and a black skirt to go with the black jacket and matching heels. She truly looked like she had just stepped out of some office building.

“Sanzu do not forget we are here for work,” she reminds her companion, who sometimes could get a little over excited and forget the mission at hand. She was pretty sure that was why Mikey assigned her to work with the psycho. That and plus she was one of the few he did not argue too much with nor attempt to kill. She had quickly learned that the mad dog of Bonten did not play well with others. But she was oddly an exception apparently.

“Awe you’re no fun,” the pink haired man pouted as he walked over to lean over one of the men that could do nothing more than cry out in fear. They all knew what was going to happen.

“Let’s cut to the chase gentlemen since we all have better places to be. We know one of you snitched out Bonten to some pigs. Now which one of you was it?” The woman asked as her dark eyes looked between the two men.

Loud muffles filled the old warehouse as both men struggled to get their words heard over the other and threw the duct tape on their mouths. A nod of her head had Sanzu ripping the tape off them both before the two started to cry out over top of each other. Of course they each blamed the other. This was so useless. Why did she even bother? Turning her attention to one she had no issues torturing them each one at a time. Fingernails were so easy to pull off when the wrist was well restricted and they could not pull away. Still that only got her more begging. That was not what she wanted. When that did not get her the answers she wanted she started snapping fingers. Listening to the sound of bones snapping within her hands and the screams that followed did not bother her at all. She only blinked her dark brown eyes. She would repeat her question before snapping the next finger. But it seemed this was still not getting her the answers she wanted.

“You’re too annoying. Fucking cockroach,” she growled out before reaching under her skirt for the holster that sat around her right thigh. She shot the man furthest from Sanzu. The other cockroach let out a girly scream as his companion was shot in the head. Clean and instant. Seeing her pull her own gun Sanzu was quick to pull his own gun, pulling the trigger on the man he had been leaning over a second ago.

Those pale blue eyes were blown wide, though that may have been from the pills she watched him pop into his mouth before they had walked into the warehouse. That wide toothy grin of his was manic. And the laugh he gave as he strolled towards her would have made anyone else back up. But she didn’t move as she just holstered her gun. Those pale eyes didn’t even hide the fact he was looking to try and catch a glimpse of her panties when she pushed her skirt up.

“Fuck it’s sexy watching you kill someone,” he nearly moaned as he started to step into her personal space. She did not even flinch as she looked up at him as he leaned in towards her. In her heels she was only centimeters shorter than him so it made it easy to hold his stare and stand tall any time Sanzu may try to intimidate her. But this was different, he was not trying to pick a fight with her. No, this wild look on his face was a different one. But one she felt she knew just as well. She didn’t need to look down to know the man was rock hard.

“Sanzu we are working. Now put your gun away and let’s get going,” she said looking unimpressed at him. She never knew if it was the drugs, some weird blood or killing kink but this was not the first time she noticed him horny as hell after a kill. The first time they fucked they had both been covered in blood. Things had gotten a little bloody while torturing a man to death. And apparently one thing had led to another and now she found herself in this type of situation with Sanzu a lot. This time she felt the muzzle of his gun running down her side.

“We got a few minutes,” the pink haired man hummed in her ear. It was true, no one would dare walk into that warehouse till they walked out. There was no rush. Mikey would be awake no matter what time they returned to inform him of their work and the pests they disposed of with a little in house cleaning. There was no use in trying to stop him. It didn’t help Sanzu was much like a child, he never took being told no well. It was better to just give him what he wanted so that they could get to the next job.

All it took was her giving a heavy sigh for his grin to grow even wider. She was giving in and he knew it. And like a kid at Christmas, Sanzu was ecstatic. His grin grew toothy as he flashed her those pearly white teeth of his. The muzzle of his gun slipped under her well ironed skirt. She had to bite back the noise that threatened to crawl up her throat as the muzzle of the gun rather aggressively bumped against the front of her panty clad pussy. Yet the man was either skilled or lucky as the muzzle still found the ability to glance across her clit. It was all she could do to choke back the moan her throat wanted to let out.

This was a game they had played a few times now. She would struggle to not make a noise and Sanzu would have his fun with her as he tortured her body with pleasure till she would finally snap and beg him. It gave him an incredible rush to bring such a strong woman down to a begging wet mess for him. A woman he had seen kill grown men with her bare hands. One that would glare at him and not back down even when he was high and irrational. Yet for him and him alone she would break.

She stood still as a statue, her teeth chewing at the softness of her inner cheek as the muzzle of Sanzu’s gun proceeded to tease her body through her panties. Was it the thought someone could see them? Or the fact he could kill her that made this all so hot and sexy? Though it wasn’t like they had not put on shows before. It never took much if Sanzu had the right drugs in his system at a club to have her in his lap. Most commonly the Haitani’s would bare witness. Though she was pretty sure that was Sanzu both staking his claim to her while also trying to tease the brothers since they could not have her, at least not till Sanzu grew tired of her.

No, it was the thrill of danger that was the most fun and exhilarating whenever she was around the second of Bonten. Sanzu could kill her if he wanted to. Pull the trigger of his gun, pull the butterfly knife she knew sat in his right pocket and stab her. Slice his favorite katana threw her body. Or even just wrap those glorious long fingers around her thin throat and he could squeeze till her body grew limp, her vision would go black and soon after she would suffocate to death. She had to admit if she died at the hands of the manic man before her she would die happy. For it would be a rush like no other.

She caved sooner than she wanted as she let out a soft moan as a shiver ran up her back as Sanzu’s hand that was not holding his gun moved up to cup a breast. His grip was hard as he squeezed her through the material of her blouse. She could smell the spicy scent of his after shave as he invaded her space. She tried to pull back from him but all that did was have him chasing after her. Till she could no longer pull away.

A soft puff of air escaped her as her back hit something hard. A large cargo crate or maybe the wall? She did not know nor was she paying enough attention. She was too busy watching those blown out pale blue eyes eating her up. His brilliant white teeth on display as if she was looking into the jaws of a shark. Then again she may have been safer swimming with a shark than toying with Sanzu. And yet here she was, toying with fate as if it would never bite her in the ass.

She was trapped now and they both knew it. Like the predator he was, Sanzu striked out. His lips crashed against hers. His body leaned into hers keeping her pinned to the wall behind her. The muzzle of the gun finally relented and was pulled back from her throbbing clit. Instead though Sanzu pulled away, breaking away from the sloppy kiss. Her lips still parted as she panted softly. Taking advantage of her trying to catch her breath Sanzu roughly forced the muzzle of his gun past her lips. Her teeth banged against the metal before she was quickly opening her mouth wider. Looking into those blown out pale eyes she smirked as she wrapped her tongue around the barrel as she smirked at him. She could hear the heavy exhale Sanzu let out as he watched that pretty pink tongue of hers running over the barrel of his gun.

The trigger guard dug into her bottom lip as Sanzu tried to force the gun further to the back of her throat. She was increasingly thankful the glock he had had a guard. But once again that thrill that he could so easily blow her brains out was an incredible high. Her panties were soaked, her heart was racing. The guard may have kept the gun from accidentally going off but she knew the safety was off, and Sanzu still held his finger to the trigger. If he so chose he could end her before she even knew what happened. And yet she did not try to stop him. If anything her tongue only grew more bold as it ran across the cold metal in her mouth.

Suddenly the gun was ripped from her mouth. She let out a soft whimper. She had been having fun dancing with death while nearly tongue fucking Sanzu’s gun. Then again the show had also been meant to tease Sanzu which seemed it had done the job.

“Fucking hell I want to put that fucking mouth of yours to work.” He groaned as he tucked the gun back into its holsters that sat under his jacket.

“Why don’t you?” She was completely taunting him with the question. She was completely ready to drop to her knees and try to suck the soul out of this man’s body before her.

“To quote a bitch from earlier. We don’t have time for that,” she should have known those words would come back to bite her in the ass. Oh well she was sure there would always be another time. Hell, a simple question or offer and Sanzu would follow her home like a lost puppy if she offered to blow him if he went home with her after they finished the job.

“Ass,” she grumbled under her breath which just earned her a chuckle from the man. Before she could let him get out some sort of smart ass remark she leaned back in crashing her lips against his. Hands roamed down till they each cupped one of her ass cheeks. Being lifted off the ground she let out a surprised noise into the kiss. Her legs wrapped around his thin waist. His chest pressed into hers helping to keep her pinned in place. One hand sat under her ass to keep her up. The other reached up to push her skirt up all the way to ensure it sat around her stomach. She could hear the snapping and stretching of her poor pantyhose ripping. He was the reason she bought the cheap ones.

Her fingers danced down his chest to work at the button of his pants. She was swift as her fingers unbuttoned and nearly ripped the zipper of his dress pants. She only pushed his pants down a few inches. That was the best she could do as she was still wrapped around his waist. But it was enough. Freeing his hard cock was easy. She could hear him hiss softly as she gave him a few teasing strokes with her hand.

A smirk tugged at her own lips. Sanzu was not the only one who enjoyed the little power trip of knowing that they could bring someone strong down with just a simple action. If they were not in some dingy warehouse and still working she would have happily dropped to her knees and turned the Mad Dog of Bonten into a moaning bitch for her. But she did know that Mikey was awaiting for them to return and let him know about their little internal hunt for vermin. And Mikey was not one who liked being kept waiting for too long. And he was someone she did not dare ever piss off.

So her teasing did not last as long as she would have liked. It was more fun when she could take her time with him, and she was sure Sanzu would agree. Maybe after they talked with Mikey they could revisit their fun little moment.

With his hands on her hips holding her up, her one hand softly stroked him as her other moved her panties to the side before she lined him up with her. One hard thrust had her head rolling back as she let out a loud moan. She could hear one of her heels as it fell off her foot and hit the ground as she lifted her legs up and wrapped them around his thin waist.

Sanzu took that as an invite to start a fast and rough pace. His head dipped into the side of her neck as her head was rolled back moaning as she enjoyed the stretch and feeling of being so full. She could hear soft little moans escaping the man as he gave hard fast thrusts of his hips.

Kicking off her other heel she more easily wrapped both legs around him and dug the heel of her foot into whatever part of him she could as if her heels could force him closer. Her right hand moved up from his shoulder that she was clawing at as if she could claw his ugly suit off and really enjoy him. Instead it moved up. She slid her fingers through that pretty pink hair of his before grabbing a handful and giving a hard tug back.

“Fuck,” Sanzu growled as he let her pull him a small bit away from him. The glare he gave her sent a shiver up her back and she loved it.

“Kiss me,” she demanded from him which earned her another hard glare.

“Watch your mouth,” he warned.

“Make me,” she taunted. She knew if she wasn’t careful she could find herself in trouble. And the feeling of those slim strong fingers wrapping around her neck were a fast reminder of how easily he could kill her if he wanted to.

“Fucking bitch,” he growled at her as his fingers tightened and he could listen to the almost silent gasp she let out. But he did cave in to her demand. His lips crashed against her lips before he let his grip loosen as he felt her lips seem to struggle to return the kiss.

Once she was able to inhale air and actually get it sent to her brain the ability to return his kiss became easy. The thrill of knowing he could have suffocated her had the knot in her stomach growing tighter and tighter fast.

Pulling away and breaking the kiss she was gasping for air. His name became a chant on her lips. Her fingers clawed at him and she could not get enough. She felt so close yet so far away from the ecstasy that would be her orgasm. And she wanted it so badly. Before she even noticed she was begging him for more and about being so close.

She could feel his hips losing their rhythm. Which was a very clear sign that Sanzu was growing close himself. Which was hot as hell, and had her cursing loudly as she could only hope he would last long enough for her own tension to snap in her body.

One last hard thrust had him sheathed deep into her body. She let out a scream of pleasure as the tension snapped and ecstasy flooded her body as she came. She clung to Sanzu as he gave a few small thrusts into her as he rode out his own high of pleasure. She could feel his hot cum filling her.

Panting he only gave her a second to regain her composure before he was pulling away from her a little as he slipped his softening dick from her. She let her legs drop from around his waist. She could feel his hot cum leaking from her body. Yet she did nothing more than readjust her panties and ripped pantyhose. She pushed her skirt back down to where it should have been, readjusted her blouse and jacket. Looking around the floor she spotted her heels and grabbed them to slip them back on.

With a glance over her shoulders she could see that Sanzu was also dressed properly and was smoothing out his suit jacket before looking up at her with a shit eating grin.

“Well we better get going. Better not keep our king waiting,” she said as she started to walk towards the door leading out of the warehouse. She could hear Sanzu letting out a chuckle as his long legs made it easy for him to catch up with her.

She could hear a bag rustling, and a glance over at him revealed the man had pulled a little bag of pills from his pocket and was dropping three of them onto his tongue. Watching him dry swallow the pills she led the way out and towards the car they had driven over in.

She could feel his cum filling her panties and yet she did not care. She would meet up with their leader while full of his second in commands cum.

“Maybe after I will put that damn mouth of yours to work,” Sanzu was teasing her. Walking past the two goons who were going to dispose of the bodies she tossed a light glare over at him.

“You’re insatiable,” she said with a soft sigh. Which just earned her manic laugh from the man who walked beside her. Well depending on what she just watched him swallow there was a good chance that Chizu would not be getting any sleep that night.

#tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu smut

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