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altruisticalastor · 2 months

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)

☒ Word Count: 2,653

"You- WHAT?"

Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.

"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed.

"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.

"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.

"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead.

"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"

"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

You froze.

Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers.

"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident."

You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own.

"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!"

Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings.

"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."

Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again.

She had to have said it at some point.

Come on! Think, think- think!

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”

"His target was a nearby deer."

A deer...

Again.

Retrace.

"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."

Fuck- it was just out of reach.

One more time, one more fucking time.

Think carefully.

"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."

You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Alastor... his name was Alastor."

Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough."

Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune.

You’ve been avoiding him again.

What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth?

Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with.

Maybe he should have held off from his… desires.

Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved.

You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates.

So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed.

Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions.

Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you.

But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory.

And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it.

He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home.

Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true.

Yet even still, it was not enough.

Was he really that forgettable to you?

Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door.

The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you.

“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven.

Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you.

You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting.

The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.

“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.

Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly.

At long last— you remember him!

“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat.

Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek.

“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him.

Alastor took one step forward.

“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back.

Alastor took three steps forward this time.

“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail.

Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation.

“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks.

Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours.

You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"

Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?"

You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!"

You took a step forward.

"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion.

Alastor snapped at your last words.

Somebody who actually loved you?

It was him.

It was always him.

Was his love for you really that immemorable?

"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him.

"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons.

Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm.

You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.

"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing.

"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering.

"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."

Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so?

And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes?

Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"

The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back.

Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks.

Oh, he was... crying?

The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.

You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh?

There is no undoing grander than love itself.

"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically.

Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"

You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely.

"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"

Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Every lingering touch..."

He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks.

"And every kiss..."

Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.

"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head.

Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.

Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now.

Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept.

This pain was worse than any other.

But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.

As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost.

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

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no1deepspacehater · 2 months

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You Get Into A Car Accident (Non Fatal)

Xavier

When he texted and you didn’t reply. He wasn’t worried.

When he went to your apartment, and you didn’t answer the door. He was mildly concerned.

When he saw on the news that a hunter was injured in a car crash. He grew worried.

And when he logged into the news feed of the UNICORN’s association, which shows direct information on all hunters, without proper pass, to see your status, he was frantic.

Nearly got into a car crash himself getting to the hospital, and when they wouldn’t let him in to see you, he flashed his high ranking badge, which got the message through.

You were unconscious when he got there, which suddenly reminded him how tired he was.

He prevailed through after checking with the nurses that you were okay, and with that, he pulled up a chair and blanket and fell asleep next to you.

You had to wake him up yourself after you had your breakfast (Saving some for him).

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he blinked awake.

“You sure do know how to keep someone occupied (MC)… Try not to put yourself out of commission so often, or I’m going to have to find a new partner.” He mumbled absent mindedly as he consumed the rest of your fruit.

Zayne

If you’re not being taken care of at his hospital, he’s going to whichever one you’re at and taking over immediately. He’s THE Dr. Zayne so of course, he’s going to have his way.

For plots sake you’re at Akso Hospital for now.

If he’s in his office, whatever he’s doing is stopped immediately as his main priority is you.

If he’s dealing with another patient, or in a surgery, he’s still going to remain with his current patient, but his nerves are at an all-time high, which somehow makes him work better.

Says absolutely NOTHING as he tends to your wounds. You can’t tell if he’s seething with rage at you getting hurt or deeply disappointed that you got yourself hurt.

When you finally get the courage to say something, all you can say is his name.

“Doctor Zayne…”

He says nothing as he finishes applying a bandage. Afraid to say anything else, you wait until he’s done.

He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. He looks in your eyes, his own reflecting a type of tiredness you’ve only seen a couple other times you’ve been injured, but with battles instead.

To him, although you put your life in danger being a hunter every day, he’s reminded that the casualties of life are another thing he has to worry about with you.

He caresses your face and just whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Rafayel

He’d called and texted, and you didn’t reply. Almost didn’t answer you when you called him the next morning.

When he saw you in the hospital bed, he got SO MAD.

Immediately hung up. You thought he was being a brat until he showed up to your hospital room exactly 10 minutes later.

“Some bodyguard you are…” He huffed, faux annoyed, as he pulled out fruit, water, a stuffed animal and balloons from his bag. How did he even get all this stuff in 10 minutes!?

Visits every day until you’re out. Argues with the nurses every time visiting hours come to a close. You have to tell him to shut up and go and apologize for him every time before they officially ban him from the hospital.

He brings his sketchbook in tow and draws scenes of you, you in the hospital, and car accidents tinged with red and dark blue. Even though they’re sketches, they still portray his feelings of anxious despair and sorrow of what could’ve been for the one he most cared about.

“Seriously, stop trying to get yourself killed all the time! … I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

#love and deepspace #lads x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #rafayel love and deepspace #l&ds #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #loveanddeepspace #l&ds rafayel #l&ds xavier #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace headcanons #Lauve And Deepspace

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xan-izme · 11 months

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Crybaby (Sully fam X daughter!reader)

Summary: Reader has always been a crybaby. Sensitive and had a soft spot for all living life. Jake disliked how sensitive you always were, he sent you out on your own for a month and came back a cold-blooded killer.

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of death, mentally unstable reader, violence, Trauma

You were kind, sweet. Always looked on the bright side, you were on the same path as Kiri, training to become Tsahik. But it was clear you weren't as good as Kiri, which you were quick to admit.

That lead to Jake placing you with your brothers, training to become warriors. He wanted to tough you up, Jake loves how much you cherished love, he loved seeing the world through your optimistic eyes.

But ever since the sky people came back, he just needed his eldest daughter to be strong. Be there just in case he would leave this world a little too early.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Y/n, I need you to keep your balance! keep tripping like that you'll get killed." Jake's words hurt you, but you remember how upset he was the last time you nearly cried.

You inhaled sharply "Yes father." You stood up from the ground and faced your twin, Neteyam. He gave you a knowing look that wanted to know if they should stop, you shook your head lightly, not wanting to seem more of a wimp to your father then you already are.

You were an average hunter, your skills in fighting weren't that bad either.

But that wasn't enough for Jake. He needed to know that you were as skilled as Neteyam, as skilled as your mother was. So, it was always.

"Be faster"

"Hit stronger"

"Not good enough, try again!"

You would push your limit. Till you couldn't keep your eyes open. Your father would say words of gratitude here and there. Like small nods and a "Good work"

Your brothers sometimes feel like that's not enough for how much he makes you do. But just the smallest amount of approval from Jake made you feel like you were on cloud nine, causing you to do more, work harder.

Then one day, you were having a hard week, you were getting frustrated at the simplest things. Even your fathers nagging was annoying you.

When it came to training, you slipped up and made multiple mistakes that Jake just could not take it.

"Y/n, come now." Jake spoke calmly. You and your twin glanced at each other. You stood up with the help of Neteyam and followed your father.

The two of you walked through the woods.

"Baby, you know why I push you and your siblings so much, right?"

You nod your head, feeling a little nervous even if Jake was using his usual soft tone. "Then you understand--" Jake held you by your shoulders "--That this family, this clan is our fortress. And protecting this family is everything"

His words were deep to you, it was clear this was important to him. "And I need you to be strong. And training here hasn't been helping. So, Im sending you off. Away from here, so you can improve more on your own" Jake saw how your expression dropped "don't worry! It'll only be for a month. Ill check in every few weeks." He tried to reassure you. It didn't really calm your nerves down, but seeing how desperate he was to make sure you and the family was safe?

there was no way you could say no.

So, you left, you were on your own. The first few days were hard. And there were multiple times when you got seriously hurt and cried. God, you cried so much. All that crying made you hate yourself.

Hate every flaw you had. You even hated the soft part of you. Scolding yourself, knowing that kindness and your crying will not protect the clan, your family.

Jake did try to visit you. But you never stayed in one place. The two of you talked a little over the inner coms when you two would be miles apart. But those convocations didn't last.

You were training harder than ever. Perfecting every little thing down to the bone. In all honesty, you did go a little off from the safe zone, where you ran into a few sky people. You made it our alive, as for those sky people?

Well, you only let one live, still having that small kindness and mercy in you. Which was a big mistake.

You received a message from Norm and Max when they wanted to check on you, that a sky person bombed up a small part of the safe zone close to the high camp. No one was killed, but a lot were majorly injured.

Gaining all the details of the incident, you realize that it was the sky person you let live.

Cursing yourself and beating yourself for being so foolish, so naive for thinking nothing of what that sky demon after setting it free. So, you vowed to not give your enemy's any type of mercy, to kill all those evil demons, to protect you clan, your family.

Because this family was your fortress. And you were determined to be theirs.

Your month was over, and you were just so excited to go home. To hug and smother your siblings with kisses. To show your dear parents how strong and skilled you've become. To make your father proud of you. To officially be seen as enough to help protect everyone.

Norm gave you an inner com that was connected to your family, being told that your parents and dear twin brother were on patrol at the moment.

You decided to fly your Ikran to where you were told you parents and twin would be at. But when you were a few clicks away from them, you heard Lo'ak's voice. Saying he has gained sight of intruders. Ones who were carrying guns.

Dreamwalkers

You spoke into your inner coms.

"I'm closest to their location. I'll engage."

"Y/n-- wait, no! Y/n you better not!" Jake shouted.

"Y/n te i'tri Mo'ata Sully. Stay down! that's an--"

You turned your intercoms off. The safety of your baby siblings was the only thing you had in mind. It was almost eclipse, and telling by how the winds picks up and the clouds, it was to rain soon.

Your Ikran felt the panic and determination you were feeling and speed up to get to the location faster.

You made it before your parents and twin could. You killed off every single dreamwalker. And that demon who took your mother's home away, who took Kiri's mother away.

The demon who caused so much harm to your clan.

"Any last words Demon?" you say, tilting your head as you held the sharp dagger to Quritche's throat. The Demon growled and spat in your face.

You weren't very pleased with that; you turned your head towards your siblings who were huddled against a tree.

"Spider"

The small human boy flinched by the way your voice sounded.

"Close your eyes." You said with a small fond smile. But it felt nothing like that. Kiri quickly brought Spider close to her and covered his eyes.

You looked back at Quaritche. The moment you slit his throat and began to detach his head from his body, was the moment Jake and Neytiri entered the scene.

Neytiri was quick to go by her younger children's side. Your ears perk and notice Jake. Once you laid eyes on him. Your face lit up.

"Father!" Youran to him and hugged him. Jake was in utter shock at the scene in front of him. He slowly hugged you tight. You pulled away, smiling, unphased by the amount of blood that was on you.

"I did it. I saved them. Look!" you pulled Jake to where Quaritche's dead body was and grabbed the head of the demon.

"I have killed him. I did it!"

Neteyam slowly entered and looked over what you had done.

"Mommy!" Tuk whined and was quickly embraced by Neytiri.

You were smiling, happy that you've finally rid your father of the nightmare that had burdened your family.

But when you began to see the look Jake had. You started to notice that was not the look of approval you hoped for.

"Y/n . . .What have you done?"

Your smile dropped, being replaced with confution

"Wha-. . .what? what's wrong? what did I do wrong!?" You didn't understand. Did you not put them down fast enough? Should you have taken out the leader before the others? What was it that was wrong??

"Y/n, baby. This--" He was pointing out to the bloody battle around them "--Is wrong. You tampered with their body's. Some of them are still bleeding out!"

"N-no! it's okay you see! I made it for them to not move at all and suffer their punishment." You tried to defend yourself. Tried to make your dear father know that it was okay. And that you did a good job.

Neytiri hurried the children to exit this part of the forest fast, including Spider. Neytiri didn't like Spider, but the boy didn't deserve to see all of this. None of her children did.

"That is not our way!" Jake yelled. Frustrated, worried and scared for his daughter in front of them.

Your ears pinned back. Feelings of sadness, betrayal and anger infecting your heart.

"Well, your way didn't work for me. You said so yourself! Why can't you just be happy!?" Your nose scrunched up in anger.

"I did this for the clan, for our family-- For you!" You were getting upset. All you wanted was the feeling of being called a Sully, worthy of the tittle as Toruk Makto's daughter.

"You can't do this. Your way will bring unbalance to the clan. And if you can't do that. . . then I'll have to strip your tittle as a warrior of this clan." Jake's words caused everyone to stop.

"Ma jake." Neytiri spoke, her eyes glancing between her mate and child.

You felt your bottom lip quivering. But your eyes refused to release the tears. You slowly backed away from Jake, nodding your head a little. Your eyes found its way to Spider who kept tripping, his legs still shaking from what he witnessed.

"Spider." You spoke up. The boy forced himself to look at you.

"Keep tripping like that. . . . . and you'll get killed."

#jake sully #neytiri #neteyam #lo'ak x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter reader #kiri avatar #spider #tuktirey #na'vi x reader #death mention tw #animal death

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anonymousangstmonster · 3 months

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Idea #39

The Fentons were a family of merciless mer hunters.

But when Jack Fenton found a barely-a-year-old, white haired, black scaled, green eyed guppy washed up on their private beach, he couldn’t just leave the little guy to probably get eaten alive by seagulls. He’d always had a soft spot for kids.

He somehow convinced Maddie to let him keep it, as long as he was responsible for it. Jack had to feed it, clean it and it’s tank, train it, make sure it didn’t try to eat people, entertain it, the normal things you have to do to take care of a pet. Sure Maddie was the one that made sure it was fed most of the time since Jack forgot, but he did all the other things! He even gave him a name, Danny.

They actually got to learn a lot about merfolk biology taking care of him.

Over time the pair of scientists grew more and more attached to the little baby mer in their lab. He was practically a son to them. He was so sweet and cute, who wouldn’t love him instantly!

They taught him how to talk(he had such an adorable voice!), they taught him about the outside world(his eyes always sparkled with curiosity and wonder when listening to their stories).

When an old mer hunting friend came over to visit, he told them to be careful, that the creature could be using its siren powers to make them love it. They assured him that Danny’s powers(if he had any) were disabled by the small and unobtrusive cuff around his wrist.

They arranged for a little boy Danny’s age to come for a playdate, since he always seemed so lonely by himself in his artificial habitat. That young boy was named Tucker Foley, and the two hit it off instantly. Playing in the shallow area of Danny’s ‘exhibit’ with beach balls and plastic boats.

More time passed and Danny grew, his aquarium growing along with him.

Sometimes other hunter and scientist friends of the Fentons would come see the lab, and they would see a teenage merman in a comfortable environment and not on an examination table.

The parents wanted to see their boy free and happy, so they released him into the ocean. It wasn’t until later that they realized they never prepared him for the outside world, they never taught him how to hunt for himself, to avoid fishing nets, he might get seriously hurt or even die out there because they were ‘so eager to get rid of him’.

One of their worst fears were confirmed when they found him washed up on their beach bleeding from his tail, abdomen, and arm, unconscious.

Mer au combined with “Danny has always been lab rat” au, and wholesome up until the plot.

“I also just want Jack to invent a ghost(mer) treat and make Danny do tricks for it.” -that applies to this as well. Also I had the idea for that when eating a soft peppermint for the first time in forever.

ALSO GUYS THIS AU IS SHARED WITH @doiyi-yt! GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF UNDER THE #fish boy au TAG!

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

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Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did.

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#tequila #december drabbles #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester

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lostgirl677 · 5 months

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They didn't destroy you

One-shot

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

Masterlist

Summary: After Dean escaped Hell, he's still traumatized and Y/N helps him through it.

A/N: It takes place at the beginning of season 4

A terrifying scream tore through the night, waking me up with a start and making my heart beat faster. Even in my hazy state, I already knew who it was. I tried to open my tired eyes completely, then jumped out of bed to quickly get up and ran to his bed. The sight broke my heart. Dean, the fearless hunter and one of the bravest men I knew, lying here, shivering. Dean was drenched in sweat and tears, and he was all tangled in his bedsheets. I knew he was having a nightmare again. I slowly approached his bedside. “Dean”, I called softly while shaking his shoulder but he fought back. “Dean, wake up,” I said again as I kept shaking him. His eyes suddenly shot open and his body jolted as he sat up on the bed. His hands gripped my shoulders, making me jump back. He looked at me, completely panicked and his breathing was seriously labored. I could almost hear his heart beating.

“Dean, it’s okay. You are fine. You are awake, it’s over.” I attempted as I wiped his tears and reassuringly caressed his arms. “Y/N?” he asked, a bit stunned, with a clear relief in his voice. I smiled a bit at him and answered “Yeah, it’s me.” He looked anxiously around us and realization seemed to strike him and he suddenly released his grip on my shoulders. But it was to immediately wrap his arms around my belly. My heart literally skipped a beat at his gesture and goosebumps formed all over my skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I hope I didn’t hurt you.” he said with a raspy voice as he buried his face in my shirt. I melted in his tender embrace and hugged him back while caressing his hair gently. I could feel his tears soaking my shirt. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” I assured him softly. His embrace slowly became tighter and tighter with each of my words, and his sobs grew louder. My heart shattered in a thousand pieces at the sight of this broken man. The man I loved more than anything. Dean would normally never let me see this part of him. But that night showed me how broken he really was.

For a moment, it was like we were apart from the world around us. It was just him and I, with his uncontrollable sobs for background noise. The worst was that I couldn’t possibly console him. Not after what he’s been through in Hell. Nothing could ease such trauma and pain. So, instead of talking, I just kept caressing his hair. But suddenly, I felt Dean removing his head from my shirt and I immediately looked at him, concerned. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and his cheeks were tearstained. Gently, my hand made its way to his face to wipe the stray tears, and he leaned his head on my hand. And he just looked at me, his eyes piercing through my soul. Silent tears were still escaping his eyes. He kept staring at me, in silence, as the tears still escaped his eyes. His eyes had lost their youthful shine. The only thing making them shine, now, was the tears.

Then, he opened his mouth and broke the silence. “Back there.” he said, gulping. “Back there, I yelled your name endlessly. Till my throat hurt, till I lost my voice.” he added, as his voice broke a little. I felt my eyes pricking a bit at his words. And before I could say something, I heard him taking a breath. “I never stopped thinking about you. You helped me to not turn into one of them. You were my anchor to my humanity. To everything I ever believed in. They kept beating me, torturing me till my body fell apart. Just to rebuild it and to do it all over again. They kept saying terrible things about you and Sam. That you had forgotten about me, that you never loved me. But sometimes, I was able to remember the loving gaze you always give me, all your loving words. I was so scared to become a demon and that you…” his voice completely broke this time. Tears were now falling freely on my cheeks, completely overwhelmed by what he said. Images of what he had been through were flashing in my mind, making his words even more impactful as I let my imagination take over.

Dean stretched his right hand to slowly stroke my cheek with his calleous thumb. A small smile appeared on my face. His soft side was still there, meaning they failed to destroy him. Slowly, I bent my knees to give him a gentle kiss on his rosy lips. At first a bit surprised, he kissed me back, closing his eyes as he melted in my contact. I then ended the kiss and carefully sat next to him. His hand lightly took mine and his eyes were still on me. “Dean.”, I began softly. “What you are telling me proves that the demons failed miserably. They didn’t destroy you. You are still the most loving, and the most selfless person I know.” His eyes became a bit brighter as tears appeared again. “Those fuckers are just liars. They know nothing about love. About you. About us. They don’t know all the things I did to try to get you back. They don’t know how much I love you. They are unable to fathom a love like ours. I’m going to help you through it. We’ll fight the nightmares together.” I made a pause and looked at his face. The expression of his eyes, full of love, made my heart swell. “I love you, Y/N” was all he said. But he didn’t need to add anything else. All the unspoken words he wanted to say could be read in his eyes. And he leaned again for a soft kiss.

After that kiss, I finally got up to get him a glass of water but a gentle hand snaked around my wrist and his broken voice whispered “ Please, don’t leave me.” I turned my head to look in his direction.I surrendered the idea of water and simply replied softly “I didn’t have the intention to.” I swiftly closed the distance between us and embraced him in my arms. After a few minutes in this position, I made a gesture to invite Dean to lay down. And we finally both laid down on the bed. Dean cried a bit longer on my chest before falling asleep. “I love you.” I mumbled as I placed a kiss on his forehead and I soon fell asleep too.

@hobby27

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural x you #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #supernatural fandom #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural season 4 #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot

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fandomwritingbit · 6 months

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💀Hallowe'en Special💀

After Hours,

Springtrap x fem reader

Synop: Sneaking into a horror attraction after dark was really fucking stupid and you're about to find out just how much.

A/n: I totally get that this probably isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please be warned, also bare in mind writing for Springtrap is completely new for me.

Warnings: Springtrap/william afton. Explicit non-con/rape. Violence. Threat. Themes of kidnapping.

Credit to image creator.

It was everything you expected and more.

The building reeked of lack of care, practically falling apart with all its paint peeling and the half illuminated sign. It looks creepy as fuck. That's why you came.

You love to be scared. And this place has the potential to be truly terrifying.

You spoke to a friend of yours who told you they'd done exactly this a week or so ago. And it was soooo much better after hours, when you can go where you want to and do what you want to; which in your case is dick around with the animatronics. They were supposed to come along as well but flaked out last minute, leaving you standing in front of the place on your lonesome. But you’re not one to be defeated by a shit friend not showing, so you’re still going to go in.

And so, with your phone torch lighting your way you go to the back of the building. And unsurprisingly you're greeted with a high fence with its gate chained closed. That isn't going to stop you though. Smirking, you throw your backpack over the fence and then slide your phone under it, torch up so you can sort of see what you're doing.

One foot wedges in the metal, the toe of your shoe just able to fit through the diamond-shaped gap enough to give you purchase, letting you slot your other foot in the gap a little higher up. It was easy really, almost like they wanted you to hop over it, no anti-climb or spikes or anything. At the top of the fence you sit for a moment, wishing you kept hold of your phone for a photo here, illuminated by the solitary light of the building sign. Oh well, there's always the opportunity on the way out.

You jump down, careful to land with bended knees, if you hurt yourself you wouldn’t exactly be able to call an ambulance. From there you dust yourself off for a minute and grab all your stuff, wincing when the harsh light of your phone catches your eye.

"And now the fun begins." You whisper to yourself, as you slip around the building, quickly laying your eyes on the back door, which according to your mate was easy pickings, quite literally. Shoving your makeshift kit into the lock, it only takes a few moments of jiggling in before, hey presto, the bitch clicks open. It really was too easy.

Inside, you flash your torch around this hallway, thinking to yourself that it looks like a 'back-stage' area with all the clutter and, god, the dust, which now flitted through the air disturbed by your movement. Honestly, with the amount of it caked on everything you wouldn’t think that this place was operational. Box after box lay on the chequered tile floor and you follow them down the corridor, checking door handles along your way.

One opens to reveal a small cupboard filled with toilet roll and cleaning supplies. Another to one with stacks of papers, documents of some kind, probably accounts or some shit, but seriously who keeps paper copies nowadays? But the third one was the most interesting one.

The metal door was a labour to open, scraping into the floor over a mark from others doing the same thing, the room was dark but you can tell instantly that it’s much bigger than the previous two. You use your phone torch to scan through the pitch black, revealing the jackpot. Animatronic heads are mounted on the wall like the room belongs to some kind of a game hunter. Pointing the light down, you see the rest of the beasts, huge chest cases and clumpy-looking feet littered along the floor And in the corner the skeletons, light bouncing off them back at you, their eyes reflecting red.

“Ho-ly shit…” You say into the darkness, grinning from ear to ear. This place was fucking insane, in the absloute best way. You waste no time inserting yourself in the room, placing huge metal heads over your shoulders and snapping a few pics looking like some demonic purple rabbit. Then some more with your arm draped over these endo-skeleton things, these took you a bit longer to build the courage to touch because fuck, their eyes were staring right into the depths of your soul. But once you did touch them and they didn’t pounce on you, you felt reassured enough to tackle anything else this creepy attraction would throw at you.

After about ten minutes in your photoshoot, you leave the room wanting to see more than the behind the scenes stuff, you may as well see all the bits the normies get to see. Looking online earlier you knew all about the set up, creepy 80s looking corridors designed to mirror an old pizzeria chain, where apparently some kids had gone missing. Patrons could even sit inside the faux-security office taking shifts trying not to jump out of their skins as robotic creatures stalked them. Now that, you’re dying to see.

It takes you no time to find the corridors leading to the security office, on the way discovering the dormant animatronics. One a seven foot fucking teddy bear, another a beat up looking rabbit. Golden- or maybe green, it’s hard to tell in the absence of light. This one is particularly nerve-wracking, something about its stance, it’s head tilted to the side but its eyes looking up.

“Fuuuuck,” you giggle, angling your head to look into the creature’s mouth, open only slightly. “the designers did a good job on you, shit…” It’s only when your face gets very close to it, the robot shifts, its metallic body struggling loudly in the otherwise silent building. You flinch hard, body shoving itself away from it, thudding against the wall hard enough to wind yourself. It quickly halts, the movement dying when its head fully rears.

You breathe out shakily, laughing at your own stupidity, clearly you triggered some kind of motion sensor and paid the price for it. You shake your head at the beast, moving away from it down the corridor and into the office, careful not to get too close to anything else that could try to scare the shit out of you. You finally manage it, and step into the office through a doorway without the actual door part, an excited smile spreading across your face. This is so fucking cool, you think, crouching down to look at a monitor on the desk, then deciding to sit in the grimy swivel chair in front of it. You then notice that the desk has drawers in it and move to look through them, an eagerly curious part of you taking over. The top one is full of a tonne of random shit sellotape, paperclips, a computer mouse and its ancient cord. The one underneath though, sticks, you rive it hard to try and open it, even more intrigued that it wouldn’t open. You jiggle it hard, the rattle echoing in the large room, but your efforts amount to fuck all and it doesnt move an inch.

You sigh, calling the drawer a bastard under your breath and recline a little in the seat, closing your eyes for a moment. When you open them you nearly jump six feet in the air at the sight of that fucking animatronic from earlier, the yellow bunny, standing in the the doorway, it’s huge head peeking round the corner, staring directly at you. How in god’s name didn’t you hear the fucking thing move? It must weigh loads and it looks old, so there’s no way it can move silently.

“God, this place.” you say, to yourself, to the room, it doesn’t matter. You’ve had enough scares for tonight, it’s probably best if you bail before you trigger any other attractions. No longer smiling, you stand up hesitantly, moving slowly and consciously. Some kind of dread now hanging in the air because this fucking rabbit is really creepy.

You walk up to the door and carefully squeeze yourself through the gap, desperate to not touch the thing. Managing it, you outwardly sigh, that was a small mercy because some loud noise from the robot would probably give you a heart attack right now. You step away from it, ready to get yourself out of here. But the second your back is turned the most agonising sound makes you freeze.

Breathing. Raspy, pained, human, fucking breathing.

Your turning around is prevented by the cold grip on your throat, backing you up against its metal body, its lack of body heat making goosebumps spring over you instantly. Uselessly, you push against its hold, instinctively wanting to get away from it and the reality of what was happening. But your struggling just makes it grip you harder, thick plastic fingers tight on the base of your throat.

A deeply coarse sound vibrates from the creature, a breathy sound that takes you a while to realise is laughter. Laughter cold and mean, making your heart hammer in your chest. “What stupid little girl snoops around in the dark on her own?” Each word sounds painful, it must take the thing sheer will to push past such agony just to taunt you.

You tremble, “What- what are you?” the words so quietly terrified you can’t believe they’re your own. There’s no way this is part of the attraction. Just no way anyone would program this to grab patrons so violently. This was something all too wrong and all too real.

Without warning or hesitation the creature uses your throat as leverage to slam you against the wall, there’s no room for protest or struggling, it’s power is inhumanly strong. You cry out when your body hits the concrete, its unfeeling coolness stark contrast to the fretful heat coming from you. The robot’s head cranes down above yours, a subtle clicking alerting you to every slight movement. You’re winded, energy trickling down your face as tears when you’re dawned to the terrifying conclusion that you’re trapped.

It finally answers you, the raspy voice coiling your stomach in fear. “Your worst fucking nightmare.” The creature must hear you sob in response because again it- he laughs, it’s cold and mocking. Only stopping when he takes the time to parrot your desperate fearful noises back at you, making himself laugh again. It’s becoming clear to you that this must be a person, someone inside this awful thing, an employee gone rogue, trying to scare the living daylights out of people stupid enough to break in… maybe. But that voice…

“You’re hurting me.” You choke out, unsure of what you’re trying to accomplish. Internally reasoning that people have empathy and people can be talked down, you hope that he’ll let you go but it seems more and more unlikely by the second. The hand on the back of your head flexes, tangling in your hair and yanking your head upwards so you can glimpse him out of the corner of your eyes and the sight is just awful.

The inexpressive face comes close as the man inside hisses through the rabbit mask, “You don’t know the meaning of hurt.”

“Look,” you whimper, “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have come here.” The words are near incomprehensible through your tears. “God, I shouldn’t have come here…” You repeat, body convulsing under the monster’s grip. Your crying is loud in the corridor, echoing off the hard floors and mirroring the heartbreaking sound back at you. You're lost in it for a couple of seconds whilst this thing seems to just enjoy the sound, before the air is knocked from your lungs by the creature’s hand trailing down the arch of your back, all the way down to your behind where he grabs a hard handful of your flesh. It’s so unexpected that you just stare at what you can see of him over your shoulder, now silently shaking. The action turns your stomach, it doesn’t hurt but it’s rough and riddled with intent.

His other hand moves, turning you around before again shoving you to the wall and caging you in with his massive frame, using that insane strength to push you down to your knees. “No,” He almost coos, “You shouldn’t have. But don’t worry… I won’t let you go to waste.”

Whilst you're still making sense of the words, the monster grabs itself at the waist, huge fingers prying between the metal plates and rummaging until he frees his very human and very real penis. You don't want this and the disdain is evident in your eyes, but a dark part of you thinks that to please him will make him let you go. He holds himself before you, there's no illusion even with the suit that he's huge and the thought scares you.

The metallic hand in your hair pulls your head towards him and you obey, fear making you compliant. He smears himself against your lips, precum already leaking from his tip and laying warm on your face. He doesn't have to tell you to open your mouth, the rough tilting of your head is enough, and you hesitantly part your lips, flinching when he yanks you towards him. Your eyes involuntarily close when he shoves his cock in your mouth, he doesn't hold back, pushing himself as far in your throat as he can before you gag, your hands frenzied grabbing at the creature's hips. He pulls back for a moment before shoving back in repeatedly, forcing your jaw open to accept him each time.

He grunts, burying himself inside your throat and holding you still. "You'll have to do better than that, if you're scared of me hurting you." The snarl in his voice makes your eyes wide with realisation of what he wants. You obey without question, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him as good as you can, his grip relenting enough to let you. Swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft with only the goal of getting this over with as soon as possible. It’s like he knows and the huge hand in your hair slows your movement, forcing you to take him slow and deep, revelling in the feeling of your hot mouth and the frantic way your eyes dart around.

The salty taste of his big cock stirs you, and each time he uses your mouth it makes your heat betray the pain of his brutal hold. It’s instinctual and even though your mind is against it your body is reacting. Trying to push the conflicting feelings from your mind you continue sucking, an eagerness spurring you on when he groans, he’s close, you can tell from the leniency in his grip. But just as you’re getting your hopes up that he’s going to finish, he pulls your lips from him, making you look up at the terrifying form above you. The sudden dread that sizzles through you is inexplicable, it’s almost as though you forgot how horrifying this costume was and the reminder shocks your core.

You look so frightened kneeling there, your pupils tiny and your lips still parted, saliva dripping down your chin that underneath the mask he smirks cruelly, the action painful enough to make his cock twitch. With how warm and slick your mouth was, he can only imagine how tight your little cunt is going to be, fuck it’s been so long since he last broke a pretty thing like you. He’s going to savour it.

“Stand up.” The monster commands, the raspy voice insanely harsh. You obey without question your legs trembling as all trace of hope leaves you, all chance of this ending any time soon trickled between your legs. As soon as you reach your feet his large hand grabs your shoulder shoving you forwards, back towards that old guard’s office you left only minutes ago, but it felt like years. Stumbling through the doorway, the brief idea of running flashes through your mind, but you’re too scared, you don’t want to make what this man was going to do worse.

You don’t have the chance anyway, with crazy strength he catches your arm, forcing your body down onto the desk in front of you. A pathetic whimper leaves your lips at the rough action, your whole body still shaking. Once he has you where he wants you, the creature’s huge hands rake over your body, no gentleness or intimacy in his touch, just pure malicious lust. He gabs at your breasts, fingers digging harshly into the sensitive skin, then roughly pulling up the fabric of your shirt, so roughly the material tears. You’d be cold if not for the raging adrenaline in your veins. At the sight of your naked torso the mascot bears down on you, no emotion in its dead eyes, “Such a stupid girl, coming here, getting yourself in trouble. Is this what you wanted, huh?” To punctuate the question he takes hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks so that you let out a shaky gasp.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling against the hold that was making your teeth hurt, but he doesn’t move an inch. At your silence he grabs your left tit pinching your nipple so hard your body raises from the desk to try and escape it. “Huh?” He snarls again. And you try to shake your head, but with no way to move you’re forced to speak.

“No-o.” Your voice cracks, your answer making the creature above you grind his cock against your thigh, the godforsaken suit preventing him from touching himself, his own unique fucking torture. His mocking spurs a sudden surge of fight and sees your legs rise and kick hard at his chest, the dull thud of striking metal echoing in the dark room. It’s useless, and his laughing is only proof. He holds your legs against his chest with one hand, using the other to tug down your legging and the panties you were wearing underneath, taking them completely from your body and discarding them on the dirty floor.

Looking down at your wet cunt he near growls, such a slick little fucktoy that walked right into his grasp. Cold metallic fingers trace over your entrance, pulling your folds apart to see the trembling of your hole, your unwanted wetness coating his fingers. You hate yourself for being aroused but maybe it’s for the best, maybe it’ll make this more bearable. You quiver when his digit pokes inside you the costume fingers large enough to stretch you open when he sinks in, you groan the invasion pressing against a coil in your core. Seeing how your pussy swallowed his finger so well, tight around him when he fucked it in and out made him pull away, needing his hands to hold your thighs down as he rubbed the head of his dick against your entrance. Desperate to feel the grip of your walls on one of the only parts of him that remained intact.

He shoves into you roughly, forcing your walls to accept him, all air in your lungs leaving in a suffered groan. He’s thick and long and pushing to the hilt you feel more than full, like he was taking you over, touching all of you at once. The stretch burned but the pain quickly dulled when he began rutting into you, a selfishly brutal pace that had you helplessly gasping. He fucks you as deep as the suit will allow him, the waist of the costume slamming into your hips so hard the desk thudded against the floor.

It’s like you’re outside of your body looking at the scene, feeling his hands move to lift your body from the desk, holding you and manipulating the angle of his pounding to suit him. Shoving into the part of you that makes you scream and your juices spill around the base of his cock. It doesn't feel real, but at the same time is brutally so an unwilling pleasure seizing hold of you and making you clench around his length. He groans,not stopping his pace as you begin to flutter around him, what a filthy fucking thing you are to enjoy this, he thinks, the thought making him fuck you harder. Forceful thrusts that quickly beginning to stutter as the monster nears his end, bursting inside you like an animal and stuffing you full of him. You’re dirty, used and broken, letting the cum seep around him, dripping down onto the desk.

He holds you still for what feels like hours before dropping you down onto the slick tabletop, leaving you to crumple on the floor. There’s no coherent thoughts in your mind, just a frightening emptiness as you get to your knees and crawl over to where he threw your clothes, hands shaking as you try to gather them up. He chuckles at your form, bruises already beginning to show on your hips and thighs, before slowly walking to you, a cold metal foot shoving you over, your body thudding into the floor.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”

A/n: Here it is. My second Hallowe'en event, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I know this is very different to the kind of thing I usually write, but heck, why not try something new. X

Stay tuned for my third fic!

#fnaf #springtrap smut #springtrap x reader #springtrap x you #cw noncon #cw violence #cw murder #FWB's halloween event #william afton #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton x you

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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months

Text

Bedtime giggles💕

Just a fluff drabble, idk if this is any good but it made me happy. 🙊 Word count: 293

Miguel O'Hara x Reader s/o

----

A couple years into your established relationship with Miguel and you two live together and your head is on the pillow next to his, with his arm trapped under you and it's 3:30 am after you two went out on the town.

You're a little tipsy and everything is a hundred times more hysterical than it really is because you're so tired, yet awake, it's making you delirious. Like Miguel will be like,

"Seriously, go to bed."

Then he'll cough and you'll just bust up laughing, which makes him giggle hysterically because you're not using your cutesy dainty fake laugh like you did in the beginning when you were trying to act perfectly put together around him. You're laughing in your cartoon man, villain laugh. You're snorting and wheezing like a spray bottle until tears leak out of the corner of your eyes. You're screeching like a baboon in heat, and Miguel's turning red and almost no noise is coming out as he slaps his knee, rolling over in the fetal position under the sheets while you're gasping for breath.

"L-Look, Look Look. Look at me." And you'll sit there with a goofy ass expression on your face and he'll just barely look over his shoulder from the other side of the bed then just lose it all over again.

"Baby...stop it my stomach hurts!"

When you two finally get a grip, the sleepiness finally catches you both and you're laying on your sides, face to face.

"Oh my God, I thought I was gonna die from laughing so hard." You say as you wipe your eyes.

Miguel smiles. "Shit, you had me going there too."

You smile lazily and your eyelids droop.

"G'night."

He strokes your bare shoulder.

"G'night, baby."

----

💕

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o hara fluff #Spotify

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fallingdownhell · 3 months

Note

May I request Zhongli, Itto, Kaveh and Cyno with an s/o who's got crazy good luck? They could win any challenge or game presented to them, never get hurt (to badly), and are always making loads of cash (somehow).

I can imagine at least one of those characters getting jealous over something like this.. Characters Included: Itto; Cyno; Zhongli; Kaveh Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; crack??; some fluff and comedy; nothing too serious here, just some funny headcanons Word count: 942 words Have fun with this<3

Itto

the man, the myth, the legend himself..

he gets SO incredibly jealous. When he challenges you jokingly at first, and you keep winning against him..

His pride is on the line here, okay?

you win a match of TCG against his amazing deck? That's fine, he can always challenge you for another round

but when you keep on winning and winning, he gets more and more desperate with each passing round

okay, screw TCG. How about a beetle fight? He's sure to win this, no doubt about it!

...what do you mean he lost again?

he's heartbroken. Will fall to the ground in disbelief. Have the gods truly forsaken him now?

a little drama queen about it, but it wouldn't be the Itto you know and love if he wouldn't act like this

still, you do feel a bit bad about it. To the point where you decide to only do the bare minimum and let him win against you, so he'll cheer up again

when he does win, his spirit is back up again immediately, bloating about his superior victory for the rest of the day. Like, seriously, he won't shut up about it anymore

unless someone were to mention all his previous losses, then he's back to sulking again

however, the next day, all is forgiven and forgotten again

Cyno

one night, after dinner, he was talking about his new deck in TCG when you decided to ask him if he could teach you how to play

immediate sparkles in his eyes as he gets all excited and pulls out a new set of cards for you. He's been waiting for this day to come!

takes his time to explain the rules to you and helps you build your deck. If you ask him questions, he answeres them paitently

then comes the time for your first duel. Even though you are his partner and it's your first ever match, he doesn't plan to go easy on you. Well, maybe a bit, but he still will take this match very seriously

But when you end up winning against him, he's dumbfounded. How did you manage to do that?

He'd quietly mumble something about beginners luck, then challenges you to a rematch. This time, he plans to go all out

...and he looses again

now thourougly confused, he's looking at his cards like he might find the answer in them, while you are laughing your ass off. Your stomach hurts from all the laughing, but you can't calm down. Cyno's just so cute when he looks so shaken up

it's a mystery to him, how you could win against him, despite him having the better cards, the better deck and obviously having more expierence playing the game

in the end, he does swallow down his pride and congratulates you to your win, though he will work his deck over and challenge you again at a later point in time

Zhongli

as an adventurer, it is unavoidable that people get injured every now and then. It's just a risk that comes with the profession

and yet, Zhongli has never seen an injury on you more severe than a cut and maybe some darker bruises

don't get him wrong, he's glad that you're not getting hurt all the time. It's just that your stories and the results don't match up most of the time

"And get this. Then, a huge rockfall comes falling down in our direction! Can you imagine that?" "Darling, that's very serious. How did you manage to avoid that?" "I don't know. Guess I just got lucky. I only got hit my a small one on the head, but it wasn't even big enoug to give me a concussion, so all's good!"

"I almost fell down a cliff today!", "A group of Ruin hunters attacked us today!", "We got locked in a cave, but luckily, they were connected to other caves, so we got out no problem."

almost every other day, you come home with a similar story and every time, Zhongli questions just how much luck one single human can possess to come out mostly unharmed every single time

still, every time you set out for work, he can't help but worry about you. What if one day, your luck runs out on you? You reassure him that you're careful, but it does little to appease his mind when you come home with yet another tale to tell...

Kaveh

Kaveh isn't one for gambling, never has been and never will be. Though, he knows that you like to induldge from time to time, so when you invite him to come along with you, he agrees

and then he witnesses you winning each and every game you partake in. Doesn't matter how rigged the games might be, you make it look so simple

with a huge grin on your lips, your arms raise into the air as you declare your victory one again, and he's left dumbfounded

when he catches a quiet moment, he can't help but ask you about it

"I don't know. I just always had really good luck when it comes to those type of games.", would be your nonchalant explanaition

now he gets why you don't go out to play more often. You'd get banned from every single location if you were to do this regularely

Going home from a place like this with such a massive win.. he's too stunned to speak, but nonetheless very impressed and proud of you for it

will accompany you more often when you want to go out to gamble again, just to see your excited and joyful expression again

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supernaturalfreewill · 7 months

Text

Words: 5,373 Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warnings: injury, assault (no description of any sexual violence though it is implied this may be the motive for the assault), attempted abduction, angsssst, Protective!Dean Summary: Dean is happy to see he's getting a call from you, but he can tell from the tone of your voice when he answers that something is seriously wrong. Requested by: Anonymous! Thanks for the request! I hope you love it! Hurt/comfort can be just the right thing sometimes, and Winchesters on the war path for someone they love is the icing on the cake.

Dean smiled at the name that lit up his phone screen. “Y/N, hey,” he said. But the smile on his face died when he heard your voice.

“Dean?”

There was a pause as his stomach seemed to drop through the floor. “Yeah, hey… what’s going on? Are you alright?”

Another pause, on your end this time. “I don’t—I don’t know how to—are—are you busy?”

He glanced at the pile of file folders and stacks of books on the table in front of him but only stood up and turned away from it. “No. No, I’m not busy. What do you need? What’s going on?”

Your voice shook when you answered. “Can you get here? Please?”

Something was terrifyingly wrong. Dean’s teeth clenched. “I’m on my way now. Y/N—are you safe?”

He heard only your shaky breath for a moment. “I am now. I’m safe now. I’m safe now…” You were almost chanting it to yourself.

“Where are you? Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in an hour,” he said into the phone. “Do you want to stay on the line with me?”

There was a long pause as you thought about how to answer that question but you eventually decided. “No. No… just—just drive safely and get here when you can.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can. I promise. I’m on my way. Just—stay safe, alright? I’ll be there soon.” His stomach was churning with nerves, rolling with worry and fear. As he hung up the phone, his apprehension and concern only seemed to grow. What the hell was going on?

_ _ _ _ _ _

The tires of the Impala squealed as he yanked the wheel to turn the car into your driveway. It hadn’t even come to a complete stop when he threw it into park, turned the key to off, and bolted out the door. Your house was dark ahead and the curtains were drawn. The whole place looked and felt eerie and unsettling. He took the steps two at a time and stopped on the front mat, rapping his knuckles loudly on the door.

He shifted anxiously and strained his hearing, glancing back over his shoulder and surveying the surroundings as any good hunter does. His jaw clenched as he looked back at the closed front door. He knocked again, more loudly and more sustained. “Y/N?”

The fear in his chest seemed to expand in a bubble that was pushing up on his lungs, thrusting the air out of them more and more with every passing second that you didn’t appear. “Y/N? It’s Dean!” He knocked again one more time and made up his mind that if you didn’t answer this time, he was breaking down the fucking door and—

Inside, you startled in your seat on the edge of your couch. You were surprised to look about yourself and realize that night had fallen. There was an insistent knocking on your front door and then you heard a familiar voice. You gasped and forced yourself onto your feet, clicking on a lamp as you rushed to the entryway. “Dean?” you called out, your hands so shaky that you fumbled with the chain and locks.

“Oh, thank God,” you heard him murmur on the other side of the door. “I was about to bust your door in!”

You pulled it open slightly and peered out at him through the small space, flicking on the porch light as you made sure it was really him. Assured that it was and that he was alone and nothing strange was going on, you stepped back and swung the door open wide. The light from the porch flooded in through the open door and illuminated your figure. You were backlit by only a small lamp inside. Dean’s eyes whirred over you, taking note of the slightly asymmetrical way you were standing and glaring swelling and bruising on your face, along with several small cuts. Even in the dim light, it was apparent that you were a bit battered. He watched as you raised a shaky hand to brush some hair away from your forehead.

“C—come in,” you managed, stepping aside to let him pass.

His eyes stayed fixed on you as long as they could while he slipped in. He rounded immediately on the rug and watched as you hastily shut and relocked the front door. Your hand was shaking so badly you were struggling to put the security chain back on. He stepped forward and his hand gently landed over the back of yours, closing lightly over your fingers. “I’ll get it,” he said, his green eyes wandering over your face, colored more deeply with concern. A deep cavern grew between his eyebrows as he again noted the injuries that seemed stark on your face even in the dim light. “Why don’t you go sit down? I’ll put some water on for tea and then you can tell me what’s—what’s going on.” The slightly gruff edge to his deep voice was more pronounced in his concern, but you found it comforting.

You drew in a shallow breath and nodded. You felt almost in a daze and were struggling not to go to pieces immediately at the sight of him. Dean was there. You were truly safe. Nothing would happen to you while he was around. You were okay… You were okay…

You drifted over to the couch and sat again in the same spot you must have been frozen in for at least an hour and a half after you’d called him. You glanced up to watch him in the new glow of the kitchen, filling your kettle and setting it on the stove. He began opening cabinets, searching for your tea, and finally found it in the pantry. He set out two mugs and a box of tea bags before looking over and catching your eyes.

You were mostly cloaked in shadow now and Dean strode over and clicked on a couple more lights so he could see you properly. You sat rigidly still on the couch and he finally came to sit down on the coffee table across from you. He gulped as he studied you in the full light now and took stock of the extent of your injuries. Your face was bruised in deep reds and purples and swollen over one of your eyes and along your jawline. He could tell that the little nicks and cuts you had scattered over your skin hadn’t been tended to. They were still messy and thickly clotted and your skin was stained with the rusty smears of dried blood. His brow furrowed more deeply over his eyes. “Y/N. Can you tell me what happened?”

A shudder ran through your body involuntarily. You couldn’t seem to find your voice, your words.

“Hey—it’s alright,” Dean said softly. “Just take your time.”

You pressed your hands over your face, squeezing your eyes shut, and trying to steady yourself. Dean had never seen you like this. Never. Not after all the hunts that had gone slightly more than sideways, not after a car accident that put you in the hospital, not after you lost people close to you—he’d never seen you this scared, this shaken. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and you finally seemed to dislodge what felt like a hot stone stuck high in your throat. You lowered your hands and nodded, looking up at Dean who was watching you closely with worry you could almost feel radiating from him.

“I—I tracked down this hunt. I was just searching the papers, you know? I found something strange, a pattern, and I decided to go take a look, poke around a little. I was pretty sure it was a vengeful spirit. Should have been an easy case. It was in a small town. I pulled into the—”

At that moment, the tea kettle screamed in the kitchen and you jumped so much you nearly fell off the couch.

“Shit!” Dean exclaimed, jumping up. “Sorry! I’ve got it. Just the kettle. I got it…” He rushed into the kitchen and hastily pushed the kettle off the burner. Your heart was pounding in your throat and you pressed a hand over your chest and tried to slow down your breathing. Dean was glancing between you on the couch and the cups in front of him he was pouring boiling water into them. His stomach had formed a tight knot and he found himself keyed up and ready for a fight despite not even knowing what had happened to you yet. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeply wrong and deeply unusual had happened. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand it, but he knew it in his gut.

He carefully came back to sit with you, setting the two mugs of steaming tea down on the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the couch this time. “It’s, uhh—chamomile,” he said. “It’s supposed to be calming, I guess. I don’t know,” he said, forcing a half-smile. “Tea is more Sammy’s thing. They pretty much all seem the same to me.”

You nodded and managed to give him a weak smile, though it was tight and didn’t ease the drawn look around your eyes. “Thanks,” you murmured, reaching for the mug. The fabric of your sweatshirt pulled upwards as you grabbed the handle and Dean’s heart jolted. There were deep bruises on your wrist.

His hand shot out and gently grabbed hold of your arm, just above the marks that clearly looked as if someone had grabbed you. “Y/N—this isn’t from a vengeful spirit,” he said.

You relinquished your hold on the handle of the mug and Dean felt you start trembling beneath his hands again. Your bottom lip was quivering as he searched your face for answers.

Gulping, he pushed up the other sleeve of your sweatshirt to see more bruising on your other wrist. His eyes flew to meet yours and flickered between them. “Who did this to you?”

That was it. You couldn’t hold it in any longer and you absolutely crumbled to pieces, falling into him.

Dean’s chest ached and he wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him securely, your head falling into the crook of his neck. “Hey—it’s okay. You’re alright. I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” He smoothed a hand over your hair, his heart still aching even while rage boiled in his stomach. He held you until your shuddering breaths slowed and the shaking of your shoulders was almost gone. Still, you clung onto him. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” You could feel the reverberation of his words in his chest and it was grounding. Finally, he gripped your shoulders gently and pulled back to look at you more closely. That’s when he saw the marks on your neck too, hidden previously by the collar and hood of your sweatshirt. His teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw tensed. “If you can, tell me who did this to you.” His prodding was calm and cautious as you regained your composure.

You nodded and mopped at your face with your sleeve. “I was at the bar to try to talk to some of the locals, get some info on the case. There was this guy there, another patron, and he kept glancing at me. I finally realized he looked familiar and he’d obviously recognized me from somewhere but I couldn’t place him. He eventually came over. He was a hunter. We’d met at that thing after Brett’s wake, you know, in Wyoming?”

Dean nodded. He remembered hearing about it, but he and Sam hadn’t gone.

“Anyway, he was there for the same case. He asked if we could work it together. It seemed easy enough—salt and burn,” you said. You reached for your mug of tea again and this time wrapped your hands around it to soak up the warmth. They felt so cold. In fact, you hadn’t been able to feel warm since the whole thing had happened… You went on, staring down into the amber color of your tea. “The case was simple. We took care of it no problem once we figured out the real identity of the spirit and then he asked if I wanted to go grab a bite to eat and a beer and it sounded good after finishing things up so I agreed... He was just friendly. It seemed fine and…” You trailed off and Dean watched you squeeze your eyes shut again. “So stupid…” you muttered to yourself. “I didn’t even really know him. I shouldn’t have—"

“Whoa, whoa. Hey—none of this is your fault. Okay? Don’t do that. You should be able to be safe just getting a beer out somewhere. Don’t blame yourself. I don’t even know what happened yet but I know that none of it is your fault. Okay?”

And he said it with such forcefulness that you believed him. You met his green eyes again, so concerned and intent on you, and yours filled with tears as you managed to nod. You blinked them away. “We—we had burgers and a couple beers and then we went out to the parking lot and I was getting in my car and he just—suddenly he just attacked me. He was—he—” Your voice broke and Dean pulled you in against him again tightly. You were trembling under his hands.

You tucked yourself against his chest and Dean’s chin came to rest on the top of your head, his arms around you, smoothing over your back comfortingly. Inside, he was burning up with rage. “It’s okay… you’re okay.”

“I fought him,” you managed finally, still not separating from Dean, speaking almost into his chest. “He was trying to get me to his car and I just fought him as much as I could but he was so strong and he was so much bigger than me. He had me down on the ground. I was trying to hit him, push him off, and then he had my wrists, and then next thing I knew his hands were on my neck and I—” You pulled back abruptly and looked up into Dean’s handsome face. “I had my pocket knife. Somehow, I don’t know how, but I got it out and I stabbed him in the fucking groin. That’s how I got him off me.”

Dean’s brow furrowed more deeply, one of his hands was still gently gripping your upper arm. He clasped your face with the other, his eyes whirring over your injuries. His thumb moved tenderly over your cheek, thanking God or whatever fucking entity was listening that you’d escaped when you did. He didn’t have to guess at the guy’s intentions… and it swelled a toxic mire of fury inside him. “You did the right thing. You did exactly what you should have. Hell, you could have killed him and it would have been completely justified. It’s okay.” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze and brushed some of your hair away from your face. “Listen, we’re gonna get you patched up, alright? And then I’m gonna figure out how take care of this. You won’t have to worry about him. What’s this asshole’s name?”

You gulped and your tongue felt suddenly dry, sticking to the roof of your mouth. “Evan Lewis.” Just speaking his name made you feel like you were going to be sick.

Dean nodded. “I’ve heard the name before… can’t say I remember him though.” He sighed heavily. The fact that this pervert, this goddamn douchebag, was a member of the hunting community made things a thousand times worse. He was supposed to be fucking helping people. Instead, he’d used being a hunter to gain your trust and take advantage of it… “Where’s your first aid kit?” Dean asked, pushing down his anger for the moment.

You mopped at a tear that had escaped and run down your cheek. “In the linen closet in the bathroom.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back, okay? We’ll get you fixed up as best we can.”

You didn’t want to break from him completely, but with the reassurance he wouldn’t be gone for more than a minute, you nodded.

Dean got up and disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom. He immediately pulled out his phone and hit Sam’s name. Sam answered on the second ring.

“Dean, hey. Where are you? I’m back at the bunker and the Impala is gone. What’s going on?”

“Sam, Y/N called me. I’m with her now. She—she’s in rough shape. She was attacked,” Dean growled into the phone. Sam could hear his fury in the tension in his voice.

“What? What do you mean attacked? Is she okay? Like, a hunt gone wrong or—”

“You could say that.” Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist involuntarily. “But no, it wasn’t what she was hunting. It was a person.” There was a beat of silence on the other end. “Someone attacked her? What—why? Dean, what the hell is going on?”

“Just listen, Sam, it’s worse, alright? The guy who did this is in our community. He’s a hunter.”

Another long pause as Sam tried to process exactly what his brother was saying. “Is she okay?”

Dean sighed heavily into the phone. “She’s—she’s alright. Or she will be. She’s beat up and obviously traumatized but she saved her own ass. She said she stabbed the guy in the groin.”

Another moment of silence and a heavy sigh from Sam on the other end. Dean could picture him pacing in the bunker. “Good.”

��Listen, have you ever heard of a hunter named Evan Lewis?” Dean asked.

“Uhh,” Sam wracked his brain. “It sounds vaguely familiar… Maybe I’ve met him at some hunter thing? I’m not sure.”

“Well, he’s the lowlife who attacked her. I need you to call Jody, Donna, Garth, whoever and just get the word out that we’re looking for this guy and that he’s bad news. And I need you on this. I don’t care about anything else until this guy is taken care of.” Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

“Yeah, agreed,” Sam said hurriedly. “I’m on it. Just make sure she’s okay and—tell her I wish I was there too.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, finally turning to open the closet door in the bathroom and grab the first aid kit out. “I will.” He sighed again. “Damn,” he breathed. “We could really use Cas right now to get this guy and—I don’t know, drop him off in North Korea or something.”

Sam let out a wry laugh. “That’d be good. I guess we’ll have to content ourselves with beating the crap out of him and getting him ostracized by the community.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I hate this… These guys don’t just quit. He’s going to pull this shit again.”

“Yeah, but what are our options here? We can’t kill him. The cops aren’t really a solution… Even if Y/N goes through the trauma of reporting the assault and attempted… uhh—reporting it, say he is charged, he isn’t going to stay locked up for long.”

Dean sighed weightily again. “I know. There’s no good solution here…”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Well… what if we just blast him online?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, send out warnings all over social media, dating sites… Maybe that way we could at least prevent someone from ending up in the same situation. Hell, I could throw together a website in no time.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Do it. With creeps like this, once we start putting it out there, other people might come forward too. Look—I gotta go. I need to help get Y/N patched up. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Alright. Give her a hug for me,” Sam said, his voice woven with sadness and anger in the same way Dean’s was.

“Dean?” Your voice echoed down the hall to him.

“Yeah. I will. I gotta go, Sammy.” He hung up and rushed back with the first aid kit in hand, sinking down across from you again on the coffee table, his knees cocked out to fit around yours. Your eyes were searching his face.

“Did I hear you talking to someone?” you asked.

Dean set the kit down and opened it, laying out items he would need to get you taken care of. He nodded. “Yeah. I gave Sam a call…” he said, hazarding a glance at your face to gauge your reaction. “I told him vaguely what was going on.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding, cupping your hands more tightly around your warm mug.

Dean’s green eyes, dark under his heavy brow, flickered between yours. “I hope that’s okay. I—I wanted to get some people on this guy right away.”

You nodded again and nervously chewed on your bottom lip. “Yeah. Yeah…”

“He says he’s sorry. And that he wishes he was here too. But we’re gonna take care of this, okay?” Dean’s deep voice had an extra layer of gravel to it and it seemed to reassure you. He was here, solid in front of you, and you were safe. Nothing bad was going to happen to you with Dean around.

“Thanks,” you managed softly.

Dean pulled in a deep breath and then tore open an alcohol wipe. “I’m just gonna clean up those cuts a bit. You might want to close your eyes so the alcohol doesn’t irritate them.” He scooted forward on the coffee table and your eyes shut, revealing the thick, dark fray of your lashes to him. He dabbed at a cut near your hairline first, as tenderly as he could while still lifting away the smeared, dry blood. “This hurt?” he asked you, pausing for your answer.

“No,” you breathed, your voice a little weak as it caught in your throat.

Dean returned to his ministrations, his fingers so light and gentle you hardly felt it until the alcohol stung. He chased a dried smear of blood down your cheek and over your jaw onto your neck. The coolness of the evaporating alcohol raised goosebumps on your skin and a shiver ran up your back. You huddled more deeply in your sweatshirt.

Dean gulped. “You alright?”

Your eyes opened again and you nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He nodded and his finger landed lightly under your chin, tipping your face ever so gently this way and that as he looked you over again. He sighed when he realized he’d done all he could, but his hand slid along your jawline and he lightly stroked your cheek, a pained look overtaking his face. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.” You could hear the ache in his voice.

“I know. Thank you, for being here,” you said.

“Is there anything else I can do? Anything. Do you need some ice for anything? I mean—how—how’s the rest of you?” he asked, seized by a sudden worry that you were concealing some injury that was much worse. “Y/N, do you need to go to the hospital for anything?”

You shook your head. “No. No… I’m just bruised up is all. I’m—I’m just tired,” you said, tears filling your eyes suddenly. “Sorry—” you croaked, your throat tightening. You blinked them away, wanting to hide your face behind your hands again. “I’m just so drained…”

“Hey—” Dean took your hand in his and pulled it away from your face. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. You want to try and get some rest? What can I do? Anything. Just ask.”

You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him. God, you looked so vulnerable. It was making Dean’s heart break. He was used to seeing you as a vibrant, bright light—a stong, badass hunter. This had him completely unbalanced in the worst way.

“Can—would you come lay with me? I just don’t want to be alone,” you asked, feeling your cheeks flush even at the request.

“Of course. Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the hall which led back to your bedroom.

You stood gingerly, and he helped you to your feet. Dean ghosted behind you as you flipped a small lamp on in your room and climbed under the covers. He settled himself down against the headboard on the other side of your bed.

Tucking a hand in against your neck, you looked up at him. “Can I ask you for one more thing?” you said, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He nodded, meeting your eyes. “Anything.”

“Would you mind—holding me for a while?” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence and Dean felt the ache in his chest expand. “I just—I can’t shake the feeling that he’s suddenly going to appear out of nowhere. I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid.” He toed off his boots and threw the covers back, settling himself in the middle of the bed. “Come here.” He nudged his head to tell you to move into him and you did so eagerly. Dean’s arms closed around you as you tucked yourself in against him, your head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay. I’ve got you…” He stroked your hair and relished the feeling of you safe beneath his hands. He kissed the top of your head and you settled in against him more heavily, breathing in a deep breath and letting it out in the first relaxed sigh he’d heard since he’d pounded on your door. “I’ve got you,” he hummed one more time.

“Thank you for being here,” you said.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. This is right where I want to be.”

To the surprise of both of you, you managed to each drift off shortly after and you didn’t wake until morning.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was an insistent buzzing that roused both of you. You stirred against Dean and he was sorry to have to scoot away from you to grab his phone off the side table.

“Sorry,” he murmured, sleep still coloring the tone of his voice. “I should have turned it off.”

You pushed yourself up on your palm and shook your head. “No. It’s okay. It might be something important.”

Dean sat up and glanced at the name lighting up the screen. “It’s Sam,” he told you. “Hello?”

“Hey. How’s Y/N doing?”

Dean glanced sideways at you. He could still see the bruising but at least the swelling had gone down some. “As good as expected. Managed to get some sleep though, so that’s good. What’s up?”

“Right… Sorry to call so early but I’ve got an update. I had Garth do some calling around. I guess this guy talked to another hunter and told them he got injured in a hunt, had to go to the ER, and is now heading home since he’s benched for a while. He’s in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. I’m gonna to head there now and track him down and—”

“—beat the ever-loving shit out of him?” Dean finished.

“Something like that,” Sam said. “I got the word out to everyone too, and I put a page up online. If anybody searches this guy’s name, it’ll be the first thing they find.”

“Good,” Dean said, climbing off the bed and pacing the length of the room. Your eyes followed his broad shoulders. “I’ll meet you there.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “…Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sam asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Dean asked a little abruptly.

“Well… shouldn’t you stay with Y/N? And—I’m a little worried you’ll kill the guy,” Sam admitted.

Dean scoffed. “That’d be letting him get off easy. No. Don’t worry about it. And—” he glanced back over at you where you were sitting up in the bed, hair tousled from sleep. “—I’ll have Y/N head to the bunker. She’ll be safe there.”

“Alright. As long as she’s okay with it that’s probably a good idea. And I would be glad for the back-up.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “And I’ll be glad to punch his face in. I’ll call you on the way.” Dean hung up and met your eyes. His heart jumped and then he felt a deep ache between his lungs. He sunk back down on the bed beside you. You looked a little worried but also eager for the update. “Do you think you’d be okay heading to the bunker on your own and waiting for me and Sam there?”

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded. There was no safer place for you to be, unless it was with Sam and Dean beside you. “Yeah. I think so.”

“If you’re not sure, I can come with you. I’m sure Sam can handle this guy on his own if he needs to,” Dean said, his brow furrowing heavily over his green eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you, Dean. But I’ll be okay. Especially knowing the two of you are going after him,” you said. “And—thank you for coming and staying here with me last night. I don’t know—what I would have done without you. Not sleep, that’s for sure,” you said with a wry laugh. “Thanks.”

Dean nodded. “Like I said, no need to thank me.” He gently touched your arm. “This whole thing is gonna be taken care of real soon. I promise.” He gulped, a little nervous suddenly. “And—you should know that nobody deserves this, but especially not you. You’re—you deserve only the best things.” In that moment, he wanted more than anything to kiss the soft pout of your mouth and the bruise on your jawline and the curve of your cheekbone, but the timing was all wrong. Instead, he went about doing his best to make sure you were okay and would stay that way. “I mean, how many times have you been there for me and Sam? Let us take care of this and don’t think about this asshole for another second.”

You managed a smile for him. “If he’s heard that the Winchester brothers are coming after him, he’s probably scared shitless. That’s almost punishment enough.”

Dean stood again, and his grim and furious expression returned. “No. It isn’t.” His fists clenched. “Alright. I’ll let you pack a bag and then we’ll get out of here. You’re sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said with another smile. “I am now. Thanks to you.”

“I’ll call you as soon as it’s over and I’ll be racing the Impala to get back to the bunker. Just stay safe, alright?”

You sighed, a fluttering starting suddenly in your stomach. “I’ll be there.”

Dean gave you a soft, charming half-smile. “That’s all the motivation I need to get home. And—you can stay as long as you want. I'd—uhh... we'd love to have you.”

In the worst moments, the most terrifying, the most awful, the most trying, you could always count on Dean, and he could always count on you. That’s how it had been since you’d met him, and that’s how it would always be. But you also knew, you could count on him in the best times, and you were hoping for many more of those once this was behind you.

#dean winchester x reader #protective!dean #dean winchester one shot #spn fics #supernatural

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