#or well in this episode there's no 'F' about her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dianawinchester03 · 2 days

Text

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Comment with your handle/username if you want to be added to a tag list so you can be notified everytime I update.

________________________________

Third Person POV

"Yeah. Because you guys probably missed something, that's what" Dean says to Sam and Y/N, discussing a possible case as he drives down the empty road. Sam riding shotgun while Y/N lounges in that back. "Dude, we ran LexisNexis, local police records, newspapers. Couldn't find a single red flag" Sam explains to him defensively. "Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Y/N pipes up from the back, leaning forward in between the boys.

"Yeah. I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. F/N wouldn't have sent coordinates if it wasn't important, guys" Dean assures them. Y/N sighs, leaning back, crossing her arms over her chest as she worries about her father and John. "Well I'm telling you? We looked. All we found was a big, steamy pile of nothing. If Dad and John are sending us to hunt for something, I don't know what" Y/N says defensively.

"Well maybe they'll meet us there" Dean says. Sam chuckles humorlessly as Y/N scoffs. "Yeah. Cuz they've been so easy to find up to this point" Sam says sarcastically. "You two are real smartasses, you know that?" Dean retorts at them. The younger hunters just shake their heads in annoyance. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing" Dean assures them.

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Y/N asks him. "Well, because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right" He counters, flashing her a wink in the rearview mirror. "No, it doesn't" Sam scoffs. "It totally does" Dean gives them a cheeky smile. "Dean, you're the most childish of the three of us" Y/N says dryly, Sam nods in agreement as Dean chuckles at her point.

"I'm still older" Dean counters again. Sam and Y/N roll their eyes, not bothering to argue. "Whatever man" Sam waves it off as Dean smirks to himself, now passing the sign leading into Fitchburg, Wisconsin.

Fitchburg, Wisconsin

"Well" Y/N says, walking to the boys who're leaning on the Impala outside of a coffee shop. She hands them each a coffee as she continues. "The waitress thinks that the local Freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, nobodys heard about anything weird going on" She informs them.

"Dean, you got the time?" Sam suddenly asks Dean. We look at him confused as he stares intently at the playground we're parked across from. "Ten after four" Dean responds after looking at his watch. "Why?" Y/N asks Sam. "What's wrong with this picture?" He nods towards the practically empty playground, only a few kids running around and it dawns on her.

"Schools out, isn't it?" Dean voices her thought. "Yeah" Sam responds. "So where is everybody?" I question. "This place should be crawling with kids right now" Sam says in agreement. Y/N and Dean decide to approach a mom sitting on the bench across from the monkey bars. "Sure is quiet out here" Dean says casually. The mom looks up at at, "Yeah, it's a shame." She says sorrowfully.

"Why's that?" Y/N asks curiously. "You know, kids getting sick. It's a terrible thing" She says, me and Dean share a look at this. "How many?" Dean asks. "Just five or six, but serious. Hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching" She informs them. "Hmm" Y/N responds, her mind racing about these kids getting sick.

________________________________

Y/N's POV

Later, the boys and I are walking into the hospital, dressed in our formal wear. The boys in their suit and ties while I'm in my white blouse, black blazer and pencil skirt. My hair neatly pinned back, opposed to its usual state. "Guys, Im not using this ID" Sam complains, holding up his fake ID to us.

"Why not?" Dean asks him. "Because it says 'bikini inspector' on it" Sam argues and I bite back a snicker. "Don't worry. She won't look that close" I assure him. "Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy" Dean adds as we walk down the hall, towards the reception desk.

Dean then turns him quickly to face the receptionist. We walk up a bit further, where we can hear them still. "I think she's gonna ask you know" I whisper to Dean. "I'm counting on it" Dean whispers back, a mischievous smirk on his face. I chuckle softly, shaking my head. Sam had a bit of a panicked look on his face but quickly recover. "Hi. I'm Doctor Jerry Kaplan, Center for Disease Control" Sam says professionally.

"Can I see some ID?" The receptionist asks. Me and Dean are listening from not too far and snort in amusement, sharing looks as we hold back our laughs. Sam turns back to glare at us lightly, before turning back to the receptionist and giving her a smug look, going into his jacket back. "Yeah, of course" He says, planting a fake smile on his face. He then shows her the ID quickly.

"Now, could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?" He asks him. "Okay, well just go down the hall. Turn left. Up the stairs" She says, Sam gives her a grateful smile before walking back to us. His smile dropping to an angry glare in me and Deans direction. "See? Told you it'd work" Dean says playfully. Sam rolls his eyes as I snicker. "Follow me, it's upstairs" Sam tells us, ushering us upstairs.

While walking upstairs, Sam is ahead of us. Me and Dean notice an old woman with gray hair in a room, sitting on her wheelchair. Her back to us. She slowly turns her head to us, a grim look on her face. My breath hitches when I notice a cross turnt upside down on the wall above her.

I nudge Dean lightly and gesture to it. His eyebrows raised at this, while the woman gives us a cold murderous look. "Dean. Y/N." Sam calls out to us, our gazes snapping back to him. He's a few feet away from us and he gesture for us to catch up with him. We share a look before following behind Sam.

We finally met up with the doctor in charge of the Peds ward. "Thanks for seeing us, Dr. Heidecker" I thank the doctor sweetly. "Well, I'm just glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself" Dr. Heidecker says. "How'd you find out anyway?" He asks us curiously. "Oh, some G.P. I forget his name. He called Atlanta and must've beat you to the punch" Dean lies casually.

"So you say you've got six cases so far?" Sam asks him as we walk to the room where their quarantining the kids. "Yeah, yeah. Five weeks. At first, we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy" The doctor explains as I look at the sick children on the beds. Their eyes dark with circles, tubes in their noses to help them breathe, paler than snow. My heart aches at the sight.

"But now..." The doctor trails off. "Now what?" I ask him concerned. "The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out" He explains. "Excuse me, Dr. Heidecker?" A nurse approach him as Sam asks.

"You ever seen anything like this before?" Sam asks as the nurse hands the doctor a clipboard. "Never this severe" Dr. Heidecker says sighing. "The way it spreads, that's a new one for me" The nurse says. "What do you mean?" I ask her. "It works it way through families, but only the children, one sibling after another" She further explains, the boys and I share a look before Dean turns to her.

"You mind if we interview a few of the kids?" He asks her. "They're not conscious" She sighs sadly, this shocks all of us. "None of them?" I ask surprised. "No" She says, shaking her head. "Can we, um. Can we talk to the parents?" Dean asks her. The doctor and nurse share a look, "If you think it'll help" Dr. Heidecker says. "Yeah, yeah. Who was your most recent admission?" I ask him.

"I should get back to my girls" The dad of two little girls says sadly as we attempt interview him. I give him a sympathetic nod with a small smile, taking a seat next to him as the boys stand infront of us. "We understand that, and we really appreciate you talking to us" I say calmly, offering him a kind smile.

"Now you say Mary is the oldest?" Sam asks him gently. "Thirteen" The man answers. "Okay. And she came down with it first, right? And then-" Sam asks him. "Bethany, the next night" The man answers, this shocks me again at the rapid spread-age. "Within 24 hours?" I ask him and he nods. "I guess" He shrugs before sighing.

"Look, I already went through all this with the doctor." The man begins to get a bit frustrated. "Right. Now, just a few more questions, if you don't mind" Dean attempts to reassure him. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold? Anything like that?" He asks the man but he shakes his head. "No, we think it was an open window" The man responds.

"Both times?" I ask him. He thinks for a bit before answering, "The first time, I don't really remember. But the second time, for sure. And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed." He says. "So you think she opened it?" Sam asks him, a bit confused.

"It's a second story window, no ledge. No one else could've" The man informs us. We nod and thank him for his time before leaving. "Thank you sir" I say sweetly, the boys following behind me.

"You know, this might not be anything supernatural. Might just be pneumonia" Sam suggests to us as we walk down the hall. "Maybe. Or maybe something open that window" Dean says. "I don't know fellas, the way these kids are getting sick so quickly. It's running through families and not by random. It's fishy" I say honestly. Dean agrees with me.

"Dad and F/N sent us down here for a reason. I think we're barking up the right tree" Dean says. "I'll tell you guys one thing" Sam says, we turn to him. "What?" Me and Dean ask in unison. "That guy we just talked to...I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes him" Sam says, a slight smirk on his face. We all share mischievous looks as Dean chuckles lightly.

________________________________

Later, after going through hospital records and getting the man's address, we're all in his daughters room, scanning and investigating. Sam with the black light, Dean and I with the EMF meters. "You two got anything over there?" Sam asks us as he scans the wall with the black light.

"No, nothing" I respond, slightly frustrated. "Nada" Dean responds. "Yeah, me neither" Sam sighs, equally frustrated. He then goes over to the window, scanning it. "Hey, Dean, Y/N?" He calls out to us. "Yeah?" We respond as he opens the window, looking down. "You guys were right. It's not pneumonia" Sam says, we take out EMFS off and walk to the window.

A handprint, that's literally rotted into the wood of the window sill. The fingers were abnormally long. "It's rotted" I point out, grimacing at we look down at it. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?" Sam mutters. I notice a look of pain on Deans face when Sam says this, almost as if he's reminiscing on something.

Third Person POV

Flashback to the 80s'

In a dusty old motel room while waiting for his father and his fathers best friend/hunting partner, F/N L/N, to get ready to go on a hunt, a nine year old Dean Winchester is staring at a picture his father took on a hunt of a handprint, rotted into wood, the fingers abnormally long.

John and F/N step into the room. "Alright. You know the drill, Dean. Anybody calls, you don't pick up" John begins to list off the rules to his son, his tone a bit gruff. "If it's me or f/n. We'll ring once and then call back, you got that?" John reminds him as F/N rests his bag of weapons on the table.

"Mhm, don't answer the phone unless it rings once first" F/N instructs. "Mhm" Dean responds, nodding a bit lost in his mind. "Come on, son. Look alive this stuffs important" F/N urges him gently, patting him on the shoulder. Dean sighs. "I know, it's just. We've all gone over it, like, a million times, and you guys know I'm not stupid" He says.

"We know you're not, but it only takes one mistake. You got that?" John says, authority in his tone. All the young child could do is nod firmly at his father. F/N notices the way John is talking to Dean and felt a little bad. Getting down onto one knee to look at Dean, "Alright, if we're not back Sunday night-" He begins gently.

"Call Pastor Jim" Dean finishes his request. F/N gives him a proud smile, which Dean returns before patting him on the head. "Lock the door, the windows. Close the shades" John instructs Dean. "And most importantly?" He adds. "Watch out for Sammy and Y/N/N" Dean responds with a curt nod in understand.

He then turns to look at his little brother and y/n. The pair of best friends on the couch, watching Thundercats as they giggle, pointing at the old crummy screen. "I know" Dean nods. "Alright. Something tries to bust in?" F/N tests him.

"Shoot first, ask questions later" Dean answers. "That's my man" John says proudly, patting Dean on his shoulder. "Keep this with you." F/N digs into his bag to Dean a shotgun. "Only use it if necessary" F/N says sternly, pointing a finger at him in a fatherly way. Dean nods curtly. F/N then gets back up, following behind John.

The two vet hunters lock the door behind them and Dean turns the locks. He then looks over at Sam and Y/N who have goofy grins on their faces. He smiles at them slightly, knowing that if Y/N wasn't here, a smile wasn't sure to be on Sam's face as he was always a quiet kid.

But whenever his Dad and F/N went on hunts together and Y/N was around. Somehow with her ray of sunshine ass, she would make the boys happier. Whether it's by cracking a stupid joke or just being herself.

Present Time

"You okay, charming?" Y/N's gentle concerned tone snaps Dean out of his reminiscing. The pained look in Deans face concerned her. She placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. This breaks him out of his train of thoughts, coming back to reality as he just relived that memory. He nods before saying, "I think why they sent us here" He says, a conflicted look on his face.

Y/N and Sam look at him confused. His nerves start to flare when he turns to them. "They've faced this thing before. And they want us to finish the job" Dean gulps as he says this, then after he explains to them what exactly they're dealing with.

________________________________

The three hunters pull into the '2400 Court Motel', Dean drives in and parks in the closest spot to the office. "So what the hell is a Shtriga?" Y/N asks Dean as they all jump off of the car, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "It's kind of like a witch, I think. They don't know that much about them" Dean says, going to the trunk to open it.

"Well I've never heard of it, neither has Y/N and it's not in Dads journal" Sam says. "Dad and F/N hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin about 16, 17 years ago." Dean informs them as he packs some stuff into his bag and zips it up. Y/N crosses her arms over her chest as she listens. "You guys were there. You don't remember?" Dean asks them.

"No" they respond in unison, shaking their heads. "I guess they caught wind of things in Fitchburg now, and kicked us the coordinates" Dean mumbles. "Wait, so this..." Sam begins, forgetting how to pronounce the creature's name. "Shtriga" Y/N answers. "Right. You think it's the same one they hunted before?" Sam asks him. Dean closes the trunk after taking out his bag. "Yeah, maybe" He says, walking to the room.

Y/N and Sam follow behind. "But if Dad and John went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Y/N asks Dean, knowing that John and her dad would never leave a hunt unfinished. "Because it got away" He simply answers. "Got away?" Sam says shocked. "Yeah, Sammy. It happens" Dean turns to them.

"Not very often" Y/N remarks. "Well I don't know what to tell you. Maybe Dad didn't have his Wheaties and F/N didn't take a smoke that morning" Dean says jokingly, Y/N snorts at the joke slightly but narrows her eyes at him. His defense behavior sending off red flags in her head. He knows more that he's letting on and he can't hide that from her.

"What else do you remember?" She asks him suspiciously. "Nothing. I was a kid, alright?" He says defensively, opening the door and walking in. Sam and Y/N share a look, "He's a terrible liar" Sam comments, shaking his head as he leans against the Impala. "No kidding" Y/N snorts dryly, leaning next to Sam.

She pulls out her pack of cigarettes from her jacket, taking one out and bringing it to her lips. Then digging into her pocket for her lighter. She flicks the lighter, inhaling the smoke into her lungs through her mouth and out her nose. A feeling and sensation of calmness engulfing her as the nicotine enters her bloodstream, the taste of tobacco staining her tongue.

She notices Sam's stare at her actions, "Want a pull, Sammy?" She jokes, he smiles chuckling. He contemplates for a second, "Why the hell not?" He shrugs, taking the cancer stick from between her fingers. He brings it to his lips, taking a pull. The smoke gets caught in his throat, causing him cough a bit as he exhales due to the fact that he practically never smokes unless he's drunk.

She snickers at her best friend as he coughs, his face turning red as she pats and rubs his back. Catching his breath, he hands her back the roll. "Note to self, only offer you when you're drunk" Y/N chuckles as Sam catches his breath. "Shut up" He grumbles, a bit embarrassed, but the two laugh about it.

Dean rings the bell at the counter and out comes a young boy, no older than 10 comes out and leans on the counter. "King or queens?" He asks Dean. "Three queens" Dean responds with a smile. The little boy looks out at Sam and Y/N, Sam coughing up a lung and Y/N rubbing his back as he coughs the smoke out.

"Yeah, I bet" The boy scoffs lightly, mumbling to himself. "What'd you say?" Dean realizes the kid was mumbling, getting defensive. "Nice car" The kid covers up his insult as the door opens, a woman walking in with a stack of papers. "Hi" She greets Dean. "Hi" Dean responds. "Checking in?" The woman, Joanna, asks him kindly.

"Yeah" Dean answers. Joanna smiles and then turns to the young boy, "Uh, do me a favor. Go get your brother some dinner" She tells the boy, now indicating it's her son. "I'm helping a guest" The boy says defensively. Dean smirks at the kid as his mother gives him a typical, 'Do what I said' look. "Three queens" The boy says bitterly, walking off as Dean chuckles.

"Funny kid" Dean says. "Oh, yeah. He thinks so" She chuckles as she sorts a room for them. "Will that be cash or credit?" She asks. "Do you take Mastercard?" Dean asks her. "Mmhm" she responds. "Perfect. Here you go" Dean places the card on the table as she hands him the clipboard to sign in.

He then looks over at the young boy and his little brother. The boy begins to pour some milk into a glass for his brother, this takes Dean back to an old memory of his.

Flashback to the 80s'

Dean pours two glasses of milk, handing one to little Sammy and little y/n/n. She takes the glass into her tiny hands, holding it between both her palms, taking a sip along with Sam before innocently asking. "When's daddy and Mr. Winchester gonna get back?". Dean gives her his usual answer as he goes to the stove, grabbing the pan of Scabetti Ohs, "Tomorrow" He tells her. "When?" Sam presses.

"I don't know. They usually come in late, though. Eat your dinner" Dean says as he pours some of the spaghetti into Sam's bowl and then Y/N's. "Thank you, Dean" She thanks him softly, smiling. He returns the smile, "You're welcome" He responds softly. "I'm sick of scabetti ohs" Sam groans as Y/N happily eats up her dinner. "Well, you're the one who wanted them" Dean says a bit frustrated.

"I want Lucky Charms" Sam argues. "There's no more Lucky Charms" Dean lies. "I saw the box" Sam points out. Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay, maybe there is. But there's only enough left for one bowl, and I haven't had any yet" Dean argues. Y/N takes in the banter between the two brothers as she chews contently at her food.

Feeling bad, knowing that Dean probably hadn't eaten all day but won't want to eat the spaghetti. Sam gives his brother his classic puppy dog eyes, the one he uses to get out of any situation or to get his way. Dean sighs and goes to take the bowl of scabetti ohs to throw them away. "Don't throw it away. I'll eat it" Y/N stops him.

He nods, taking up a spoon and gently putting it in her bowl. She mumbles a slight thank you, her head buried in her bowl as she eats before Dean gets the Lucky Charms from the cupboard and a bowl. Resting it harshly down on the table between the two kids, Y/N jumps slightly at the impact, not expecting him to rest it down so hard.

"I'm sorry princess, I didn't mean to scare you" Dean mumbles softly, his tone apologetic. "It's fine, charming" She assured him, a slight blush raising to her chubby cheeks at the nickname Dean has always called her by. Sam picks up the cereal box and reaches into it, taking out the toy, "Do you want the prize?" He smiles innocently, handing his older brother the toy.

After a few hours, Sam is already asleep but Y/N was getting restless, she decides to ask Dean if it's okay for her to go to the vending machine and get a soda. "Hey Dean?" She calls for his attention, Dean turns his head from the couch where his eyes was focused on the tv. "What're you doing up? Go to bed" He orders her gently.

"Can I go for a soda? I know it's late but I can't get much sleep" She says sweetly, hoping she could persuade him. He sighs, narrowing his eyes at her. "It's late, y/n/n" He says firmly, but she pouts, mustering up her puppy dog eyes that she thought Sam to perfect. He shakes his head and gives in,

"Okay okay, just be quick." He instructs her. She smiles widely, cheering. "Yayy! Thank you. I'll be quick" She assured him, grabbing her coat and her 10 dollar bill her dad left her incase, walking out of the room.

After about 15 minutes she got back, a bag in her hand with soda, snacks, Lucky Charms and milk. An excited Y/N closes the door behind her as a worried sick Dean who was pacing around the room whisper yells, "You said you were going to the vending machine!" He whisper yells. "Chill out dude. I got you something" She whispers back, pulling out the Lucky Charms from the plastic bag.

Dean is shocked when she does this, "I got this for you" She smiles, handing him the cereal. "You- what?" He's stunned, staring at the boc in his hand. "Dad leaves me a bit of cash sometimes, just incase we run out. I knew you probably didn't eat all day and wanted the cereal. So I went to the convenience store, which was right across the street next to the arcade before you yell at me, and got you the Lucky Charms" She explains, hoping he isn't mad.

The look in Deans eyes alone, it was almost as if he wanted to cry, the gesture of her just getting the cereal alone made his heart swell. Y/N was too kind and thoughtful to him and Sam. She was a kid herself but still made the best of any situation in anyway she can. He rests the cereal down and leans down to engulf her in a bear hug.

"Thank you, princess" He says gratefully. Her tiny arms wrap around his shoulders as she buries her face into his neck, squeezing him just as tightly. "You're welcome, charming" She says softly, when they let go of the hug, she gives him a toothy smile, her cheeks pink with blush.

"Shhh, don't tell Sammy" She whispers jokingly, putting a finger to her lips. She then puts out her pinky, gesturing for him to swear on it. "I won't" He whispers back, locking his pinky with hers, smiling widely.

Present Time

"Sir?" Joanna's voice snaps Dean out of his reminiscing. "I couldn't get you three queens. We only had two, would that be fine or would you like a room with two queens and separate single with one queen?" She asks him. His eyebrows shoot up at this, "Uh, two queens would be fine" He answers, clearing his throat.

Guess they're gonna have to rock paper scissors to see who gets a bed to themselves. But secretly Dean is hoping he has to share a bed with Y/N. Dean sighs, smirking to himself slightly as Joanna hands him the room key. "Thanks" He says before calling Sam and Y/N in.

"Bad news, someone's gonna have to share a bed" Dean tells them as they walk to the room. They groan in annoyance, "Couldn't you have gotten me a separate room?" Y/N grumbles. "Booked up" He lies, she narrows her eyes at him suspiciously but takes the bait. "Fine, Me and Y/N first and then winner against Dean" Sam puts up his fist to play rock paper scissors against Y/N.

"We're not kids, Sam" Y/N glares at him, he gives her a knowing look. She rolls her eyes and drops her bag, obliging, she puts her fist up. "God please, don't let me share a bed with Sam. He punches in his sleep" She grumbles to herself, causing the boys to laugh. "I do not!" Sam says defensively, she scoffs rolling her eyes.

"I've had black eyes to prove it. Multiple!" She retorts exasperatedly, pointing to her eye, making Dean snort and Sam chuckle. Dean silently prays that Y/N loses. Rock, Paper, Scissors SHOOT. Sam hits paper and Y/N hits rock. She groans in annoyance as Sam celebrates in victory. "Dammit!" She curses. Dean snickers as him and Sam now put their fists up. Rock, Paper, Scissors SHOOT.

Sam hits rock as Dean hits scissors, purposely. "Dean, always with the scissors!" Sam exclaims triumphantly, taking the keys from Dean to open the door. "Guess it's me and you tonight princess" Dean grins at her widely, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He rests an arm around her shoulder as they walk into the room, Sam rests his bag on the bed, arms wide, plopping belly first onto it.

"Don't get any ideas, Winchester. I'll neuter you in your sleep" She joke threatens, pushing him away lightly and his arm off her shoulder. He erupts in laughter at her empty threat. She walks over to their bed and sits on the edge of it, resting her bag on the ground. Sam then opens up his laptop to begin his research along with Y/N taking out hers to get started.

A little later, Sam is nose deep in research about Shritgas, Y/N is falling asleep on herself with a book in her hand on the bed while Dean is making coffee for them. "Well, you were right" Sam says to Dean. Y/N jumps up slightly, the book falling out of her hand, causing the boys to chuckle, "Huh? What?" She says dazed with sleep, drool running down the side of her mouth.

She wipes it off with her sleeve, yawning. "Here. Caffeinate." Dean chuckles, handing her the cup of coffee. She mumbles a soft thank you, taking the warm cup between her palm to heat her body up a bit from the cold air in the chilly room. "What did you find?" She asks Sam, sipping the coffee. "It wasn't very easy to find, but Dean was right. A Shtriga is a kind of witch" He tells them.

"They're Albanian, but legends about them date back to Ancient Rome. They feed off of spiritus vitae" Sam explains, reading from the article on the laptop. "Spirit what?" Dean cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "Vitae. It's Latin. It translates to 'breath of life' " Y/N pipes up using her knowledge on languages, thanks to Bobby. "Yeah, that's right. Kind of like your life force or essence" Sam adds.

"Didn't the doctor say the kids bodies were wearing out?" Dean points out. Sam and Y/N agree. "It's a thought. You know? She takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell. Pneumonia takes hold" Y/N suggests, "Makes sense." Sam agrees, creasing his lips. "Anyways, Shtriga can feed off anyone. But they prefer-" Sam says.

"Children" Dean finishes his sentence for him. "Man that's just sick" Y/N grimaces in disgust. "Probably because they have stronger life force." Sam suggests. "And get this: Shtriga are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man" Sam tells them. "So how're we gonna kill the son of a bitch?" Y/N asks.

"That's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds" Dean says, going into the bag next to Y/N. They look at Dean in confusion at this. "What?" Y/N asks him. "If you catch her while eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Buckshots or rounds. I think." He explains to them, unzipping the bag to take out his Dads journal.

"How do you know that?" Sam asks him. "Dad told me. I remember" Dean lies, sitting at the table as he flips through the journal. Y/N picks up on this and cocks her eyebrow at his poor attempt of a coverup as she sips her coffee. Resting it down on the night stand, she asks. "Oh. So uh, anything else John or dad might've mentioned?" Y/N asks him suspiciously.

She leans back on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest as Sam looks at him unconvinced. "No. That's it" Dean says casually. Sam and Y/N share a look and Dean notices this. "What?" He asks them, feigning confusion. "Nothing" Sam dismissing, both him and Y/N shaking their heads. He sighs and closes the tab on the laptop, getting up.

"Okay, so assuming we can kill it when it eats, we still gotta find the thing first. Which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting" Sam says as he goes over to the coffee maker to pour some of his own. "What kind of human disguise?" Y/N asks him. "Historically, something innocuous. It could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which may be how the whole witches as old crimes legend got started" Sam explains.

Deans gaze snaps to Y/N when he says this, his mind going to the old woman they say in the hospital. Y/N's gaze snaps up from the paper she had in her hand of the victims addresses. They look at each other in realization, "Hang on. Take a look at this" Y/N says, getting up from the bed.

She hands Dean the paper. "Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far. And dead center.." She points to the x's she marked on the map, corresponding to the houses of the victims.

"The hospital" Sam says. "The hospital. When we were there, me and Y/N saw a patient, an old woman" Dean points out as Y/N nods. Sam looks at the two, smirking a bit. "An old person, huh?" He asks them. "Yeah" They respond. "In the hospital?" He says in a tone of mock disbelief.

They look at him in annoyance, "Whoo, better call the coast guard" Sam says sarcastically in a mocking tone, chuckling. "Shut up dude!" Dean defends and Y/N rolls her eye. "Well listen, smartass. She had an inverted cross hanging on her wall" Y/N tells him, his smile fading. "Oh, now you're quiet wise ass" Dean rolls his eyes.

________________________________

The three hunters make their way down the hall to the old woman's room. "Goodnight Doctor Heidecker" They hear a nurse greet the doctor, backing into a corner quicker to conceal their presence. "See you tomorrow Betty." He greets her back with a smile. "Try to get some sleep" She says kindly as the victor makes his way past the hunters, not noticing them as their backs are turnt to him.

They make sure the coast is clear before walking back down the hall, toward the old woman's room. They approach room 237, Sam peering his head to look into the little glass opening on the door to make sure there's no one inside but the old woman. Dean and Y/N draw their guns, making sure it's loaded.

Cocking it, they give Sam a nod. Sam slowly opens the door, revealing the old woman in her wheelchair, her back facing them. They creep in lightly, making sure not to be too loud as Sam closes the door gently behind them. Dean and Y/N tiptoe up to the woman while Sam draws his gun. The woman looks to be asleep, so they lean in warily.

When suddenly, she turns her head to them in a rapid motion, "Who the hell are you?!" She yells. Scaring the crap out of all of them, Dean and Y/N jump back into the wall with the inverted cross in shock and fear. "Who's there?!" The woman yells. "You trying to steal my stuff?! They're always stealing around her" She grits her teeth angrily as Sam turns the light on.

"No, uh, ma'am. We're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping" Sam quickly lies, his tone shakily. Dean and Y/N try to catch their breaths. Running their hands over their faces. "Uh, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open" The woman says cackling. "And fix that crucifix, would you?" She says bitterly.

Dean and Y/N's eyebrows cock at this, turning to look at the cross behind them. "I've asked four damn times already" She says angrily, Dean touches the cross and it instantly flips back over into place, dangling on the wall. Sam looks at the both of them in amusement at the situation that just occurred.

________________________________

The Impala pulls into the parking lot of the motel the next morning. Sam exits laughing as Dean and Y/N slam their doors annoyed. "I was sleeping with my peepers open?" Sam quotes the old woman's words, laughing hysterically. "Man, we almost smoked that old gal, I swear" Dean groans. "It's not funny" Y/N grumbles, embarrassed.

Sam still laughs as he opens the motel room door, "Oh man. You should've seen your faces" Sam cackles, wheezing in hysterics. "Oh yeah, laugh it up "We're back to square one" Y/N says as she rolls her eyes. Dean notices the young boy from the motel lobby, Joanne's son, sitting on a bench in the lot looking distraught.

"Hang on" He tells Sam and Y/N, walking over to the clearly worried kid. They follow behind him confused as he gets down, stooping to the boys level, Y/N notices the kid's worried expression and asks, "Hey, what's wrong hun?" She asks him gently. "My brothers sick" He tells them, his eyes watery and red from crying all night.

"The little guy?" Dean asks him shocked. The boy nods. "Pneumonia. He's in the hospital" He tells them, Deans face dropping. Y/N's heart sinks from hearing this. Sam gives the young boy a sympathetic look. "It's my fault" The boy says. "Oh, come on. How?" Dean asks him, feeling sorry for the kid that's blaming himself.

"I should've made sure the window was locked. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched" The boy sniffles. This rings off bells in all of their heads. They all share a look of suspicion at this. "Listen to me. We can promise you that this isn't your fault sweetie. Okay?" Y/N assures the young boy gently, her tone soft.

He turns to her, teary eyed, "It's my job to look after him." The boy says firmly. Dean can't help but feel a sense of familiarity at the boy's protective nature, he nods understandably, knowing exactly how the boy was feeling. Sam and Y/N notice the look of recognition in Deans eyes.

Joanna exits the motel in a rush with a pillow, hospital bag and teddy bear in her hands "Michael" She calls out to her son. He instantly goes over to her as she opens the Jeep. "I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service. So don't bother with any of the rooms" Joanna instructs Michael. "I'm going with you" Michael insists

"Not now, Michael" Joanna says exasperated. "But I gotta see Asher" He pleads. "Hey, Michael" Dean cuts in. "Hey, I know how you feel, okay? I'm a big brother too...but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, okay?" Dean advices him gently. "Damn it!" Joanna curses as she drops her bag and keys.

"It's okay, I got it" Y/N says helpfully as she and Sam stoop down to pick up the bag and keys. "Here" Sam says, offering her a small smile, Y/N doing the same. "Thanks" She says gratefully, taking the items. Still shaken a bit by her tone. "Listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" Dean offers.

"No? I couldn't possibly-" She goes to deny, feeling bad but Dean cuts her off. "No, it's no trouble. I insist" Dean presses. She sighs, nodding as she hands him the keys to her Jeep. "Thanks" She says as Dean takes it before giving her son a kiss on the head. "Be good" She says to Michael, jumping into the passenger seat.

Dean closes the door for her before looking at Michael with sympathy, anguish in his eyes. "We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?" He says firmly to Sam and Y/N before walking off to the drivers side, jumping in and driving off.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N are at the library doing research. Sam is deep in thought as Y/N chews on a granola bar. "This is some dark shit" She sighs as she skims through the dreadful articles. "You're telling me. The mind-fucking shit I'm reading right now. This thing is sick" Sam grimaces in disgust as he reads the research.

"Something's off about Dean, don't you think?" He says, making Y/N's gaze snap over to him from her computer. "Yeah, he's acting weird about this case. Weirder than usual" She says, swallowing the snack. "Maybe it's the kid. He did relate a lot to the fact about being a big brother also" She suggests, shrugging, though not convinced by her suggestion.

"Yeah...maybe" Sam sighs, typing in the computer. She frowns and then digs into her pocket for her phone, the bar in her mouth. She dials Deans number and puts it on speaker, scooting closer to Sam so he can hear. "Hey sweetheart" Dean answers softly. "Hey. How's the kid?" She responds in concern. "He's not good" He tells her, looking back at the sick kid in the hospital room where he's in.

"Where you at?" Dean asks her. "I'm at the library with Sam" She tells him. "Hey. We're trying to find out as much as we can about this Shtriga" Sam now speaks into the phone. "Yeah, what do you guys got?" He asks him. "Well, bad news. I started with- uh. Fort Douglas, around the time you said Dad and Mr. L/N was there" Sam begins to explains.

"And?" Dean asks. "Same deal. Before that, there was uh...There was Ogdenville. Before that, North Haverbrook and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years it hits a new town" Y/N explains as she chews. "Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitchburg. In all these other places, it goes on for months, dozens of kids before the Shtriga finally moves on. Kids just languish in comas and then they die" Sam says, his tone sad.

Y/N's heart hurts as they explain all of this to Dean. "How far back does this thing go?" Dean asks, just as hurt by the case. "We don't know. Earliest mention I could find was this place called Black River Falls back in the 1890's" Y/N says, squinting her eyes as she reads the article. "Talk about a horror show" She mumbles, clicking through the pictures of the article.

Sam sees a familiar face when she skips through the pictures of an article saying, 'Doctors Battle Mysterious Ailment'. "Whoa whoa, go back" He straightens himself from his seat. She does so, going back a couple pictures. "Right there" He points out, stopping her. "Holy fuck" Y/N gasps when her eyes land on the familiar face, her mouth agape. Her granola bar slips out of her hand and onto her lap as they stare at the picture.

"No fucking way" Sam gasps, just as shocked. "Sam? Y/N? What's wrong?" Dean asks them. "Hold on, we're looking at a photograph right now of a bunch of doctors standing around a kids bed. One of the doctors is Heidecker" Sam tells him, still in shock. "And?" Dean asks them. "And this picture was taken in 1893" Y/N says, realization dawning on Dean.

"You're sure?" Dean asks them. "Yeah. Yeah, absolutely sure" Sam says. Deans face is stoic as he hangs up the call, turning to the Dr. Heidecker behind him who's caressing Asher's head gently as a concerned Joanna looks on. Heidecker gets up, resting a hand comfortingly on Joanna's shoulder, Deans jaw clenching at the monster infront of him.

"Don't worry. Your sons in good hands. I'm gonna take care of him." Heidecker assures her. "So, what's the CDC come up with so far?" Heidecker asks Dean as he tries to not glare at him and pop him a bullet on sight. "We're still working on a few theories. You'll know something as soon as we do" Dean tells him, trying to remain calm.

"Well, nothings more important to me than these kids. Just let me know if I can help" Heidecker says, leaving the room. "I'll do that" Dean grumbles, clenching his jaw angrily.

________________________________

"We should've thought of this before. A doctors a perfect disguise. You're trusted. You can even control the whole thing" Sam rambles on about the Shtriga, the trio now back in the motel room. Dean grunts in anger, peeling off his jacket. "That son of a bitch" He growls. "Honestly I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there" Y/N says equally angry, shaking her head.

Dean scoffs, wiping the back of his neck with a towel, "Yeah well, first of all. I'm not gonna open fire in a frigging pediatrics ward" Dean says, tossing the towel aside. "Good call" Sam snorts. "Second, it wouldn't have done any good. This bastards bulletproof unless he's chowing down on something." He adds.

"And third, I wasn't packing, which probably is a really good thing because I probably would've just burned a clip in him off the principle alone" Dean says exasperated. "You're getting wise in your old age, Dean" Y/N commends jokingly. "Damn right" He smirks, flashing her a wink.

"Because now I know how we're gonna get it" He says confidently. The two look at him confused, "What do you mean?" Sam asks. "The Shtriga works through siblings. Right?" Dean asks. "Right" Y/N confirms. "Well, last night-" Dean begins and gives them a look, realization hitting them. "It went after Asher." Sam says. "So you're thinking tonight it's gonna come after Michael" Y/N says and he nods.

"Then we gotta get him out of here" Sam says urgently. "No, that would blow the whole deal" Dean says, they look at him in disbelief. "What?!" Sam exclaims. "Yeah" Dean says. "Then you wanna use that poor kid as bait?" Y/N says baffled. He gives her a look, "Are you nuts, dude?! No. Forget it. That's out of the question" Sam dismisses.

"It's not out of the question, guys. It's the only way. If this thing disappears, it could be years before we get another chance" Dean argues. Y/N glares at him, infuriated at the fact that he'd want to use a kid as bait. "Michael's a kid! And we're not gonna dangle him infront of that thing like a worm on a hook!" Y/N snaps.

"Dad and F/N did not send me here to walk away!" He snaps back. "Send you here? They didn't send you here, they sent us here!" Sam retorts. Dean rolls his eyes, turning away, "This isn't about you two. Alright? I'm the one that screwed up! It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me!" He bellows.

Y/N's face drops at this, still confused as to why Dean is blaming himself. "What are you saying, Dean? Tell us, how is this your fault?" Sam says confused. Y/N notices Dean's swarm of emotions. Guilt, anger, hatred. She moves closer to Dean and places a hand on his shoulder, gently. "Hey, look at us" She says calmly.

He tears his eyes from the window it's focused on, back to her. His expression softening when his eyes bore into hers. "Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go." She says gently. "Since when do dad and John bail on a hunt? Since when do they let something get away?" Sam adds. She drops her hand from his shoulder lightly as Dean turns, taking a seat on the bed they shared.

"Now, talk to us, man. Tell us what's going on" Her tone is soft, encouraging. She takes a seat next to him. In that moment, Dean allows the dam to break, he spills the beans of that faithful night about his encounter with the Shtriga. "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin" He begins, staring into the distance. "It was the third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls, man. I needed to get some air."

Flashback to the 80s'

Dean sits at the couch, eating the cereal Y/N got for him, watching his cartoons. He's getting restless after being packed in that room for so long. He sighs, placing the empty bowl next to him on the table and gets up from the couch. He turns off the TV before grabbing his coat and headed over to the door.

He takes one look back at Y/N and Sam who are asleep on the bed in the room. Sam on his back, arms spread out. One of his hands rest ontop of Y/N's face, most likely from accidental punching her in his sleep again. While Y/N is on her side, one hand under her head supporting it, mouth wide open like Sam's. He chuckles as their awkward sleeping position before opening the door, locking it from the outside.

"Kid" A worker in the arcade calls out to Dean who's playing at one of the machines. "We're closing up" He informs him. Dean nods, heading back to the motel room that was next to the arcade. He opens the door and locks it behind him, his heart dropping when he sees an unfamiliar light coming from Sam and Y/N's room.

He gently pushes the door open to see a hooded figure leaning over his sleeping brother, ready to suck the life force out of him. He gulps fearfully, picking up the gun that F/N gave him that was sitting against the doorframe. He aims it at the monster, cocking the gun. It snaps up when it hears the cocking of the gun and lets out a inhumane roar.

Dean hesitates to shoot, still in shock when F/N and John come bursting through the door. "Get out of the way!" John yells at his son, running over to his younger son, shaking him awake as F/N empties his clip into the monster. Dean hides behind the door, still shaken with fear. The monster narrowly escapes through the locked window, breaking the glass when it crashes through it.

The commotion causes Y/N to scream, jumping awake when she hears the sound of glass breaking. "Sammy? Sammy? Sammy?!" John holds his son in his arms. "Y/n/n, y/n/n? Baby, y/n/n!" F/N runs over to his daughter. "Daddy, what happened?" Y/N asks her father shakily, tears welling up in her eyes. "You okay?" John asks Sam who's still confused.

"Dad, what's going on?" He asks his father sleepily. "You alright?" F/N sobs, stroking his little girls hair as she cries into his. All she could do is note. John holds Sam closely as F/N holds Y/N tightly, both sighing in relief at the fact that it didn't get to hurt either of their babies. Dean rests the gun down, guilt etched on his face as he walks back into the room.

"What happened?" F/N asks Dean. "I just went out" Dean timidly tries to explain. "What?" John grits his teeth at his son. "J-just for a second. I'm sorry" Dean stutters, trying to apologize as he swallows the lump in his throat. John glares at Dean angrily, "I told you not to leave this room. I told you not to let them out of your sight!" John bellows.

"Hey hey, they're okay. Y/n/n and Sammy are okay" F/N tries to calm John down a bit but he still glares at Dean. F/N looks over at the young boy, disappointed at the fact that he didn't follow their orders. But is still grateful they made it back in time by the grace of god before anything worse happened.

Present Time

Sam and Y/N take in the story, both sitting on either side of Dean on the bed, speechless at everything he just told them. "They just grabbed us and booked." Dean says as he finishes the story. "Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time they got back to Fort Douglas, the Shtriga disappeared. It was- it was just gone" He explains, his tone sullen.

He takes a deep breath, "It never resurfaced until now." He says, chuckling dryly. "You know, they never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But they..." Dean continues, tears welling up in his eyes. Y/N's heart breaks as he talks, a lump forming in his throat from the way this is clearly affecting him.

"Dad looked at me different, you know?" He says, turning to Y/N. "Even your dad, he couldn't look me in the eye, Y/N" He adds. She gives him a sympathetic look, tears welling up in her eyes. He breaks eye contact with her, trying not to cry. "Which was worse. Not that I blamed them. They gave me and order and I didn't listen. I almost got you two killed" Dean blame himself.

"You were just a kid" Sam tries to assure his brother gently. "Don't" Dean says firmly. "Dean..." Y/N says softly, placing a hand on his thigh comfortingly. His gaze falls to her hand, tears threatening to make its way down his cheeks at the comfort just a simple touch from her brings to him. She uses her pointer finger to lift himself face by the dimple below his chin to look at her, his watery emerald eyes piercing hers.

Deans breath hitches in his throat by this gesture. "It's not your fault. We don't blame you. You were a kid. We all were kids, no kid should have that kind of responsibility" Y/N assures him, her tone gentle. "It's still my job. It's my job to protect you two. And I failed" Deans voice cracks at this, Sam and Y/N shake their heads. "We're here, aren't we?" Sam adds, offering Dean a small smile.

"They knew this was unfinished business for me. They sent me here to finish it" Dean clears his throat. "But using Michael. I don't know, Dean" Sam says unsure. "I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover, you know? We'll be the bait." Y/N suggests. Dean sighs, shaking his head. "No, it won't work. It's gonna get close enough to feed. It'll see us" He tells them.

They both sigh in defeat. "Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid" Dean says. He takes Y/N's hand that's still resting on his thigh and gently places it down next to her, getting up. His back turnt to them, a pure look of pain and anguish on his face as he recalls the events of that night, over and over in his head.

________________________________

"You're all crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops!" Michael yells at them terrified while clutching the landline at the counter after they explained the Shtriga situation to the kid. "Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay?" Dean pleads with the young boy. "This thing came through the window, and it attacked your brother." Dean continues, but Michael still hesitates.

"Now I've seen it. I know what it looks like, because it attacked my brother once too" He further explains. Michael then puts the phone down, still a bit on edge but it seems to have eased his mind a bit. "This thing, is it like, like...? It had this long, black robe?" Michael asks them.

Deans breath hitches. "You saw it last night, didn't you?" Y/N asks him gently. Michael looks down in horror. "I thought I was having a nightmare" He admits. Dean and Y/N share a look at this, "I'd give anything not to tell you this...but sometimes nightmares are real" Dean tells him.

Michael looks confused, "So, why are you telling me?" He asks the three hunters. "Because we need your help" Dean admits. "My help?" Michael asks them. "We can kill it, me and them, it's what we do. But we can't do it without you" Dean explains, gesturing to Sam and Y/N. "What? No" Michael stutters fearfully.

"Sweetie, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it. Do you understand me?" Y/N chimes in, giving the boy a sympathetic look.

"Well, that went crappy" Dean groans after Michael said no to helping them. The three now back in their room. "Now what?" He asks Sam and Y/N. Sam sitting on his bed and DY/N sitting on theirs, absolutely stumped. "What did your expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid" Sam scoffs.

That's when they hear a knocking on the door, Y/N moves over to open it, revealing Michael. Sam and Dean stand behind her, surprised to see the young boy, "If you kill it, will Asher get better?" He asks them. Y/N looks back at Sam and Dean. "Honestly hun, we don't know" Y/N says truthfully.

Michael then looks over to Dean, "You said you're a big brother?" He asks him. Dean steps forward, next to Y/N. "Yeah" He answers. "You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?" Michael asks him. Dean nods, "Yeah, I would" He admits, his tone heartfelt. Y/N look back at Sam with a smile, Sams expression mirroring Y/N one.

"Me too" Michael says. "I'll help" He obliges.

________________________________

Later that night, Dean is setting up a camera in Michaels room that's synced to Y/N's laptop to catch the Shritga in action. "This camera has night vision, so we'll be able to see as clear as day. Are we good?" He calls out to Y/N to confirm. "Hair to the right" She responds for him to shift it a bit which he does.

"There, there" Sam stops him so it's angled directly at Michael's bed. "What do I do?" Michael asks Dean, "Just stay under the covers" Dean advices him, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "And if it shows up?" He asks him. "Well, we'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it" Dean instructs him.

"What if you shoot me?" Michael questions a bit worried. "We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not gonna fire until you're clear, okay?" Dean assures him. Michael nods and pulls the covers closer, "Have you heard a gunshot before?" Dean asks him. "Like in the movies?" Michael queries. Dean sighs, "It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears and do not come out until o we say so, you understand?" Dean informs him.

Michael still looks hesitant and terrified, "Michael, are you sure you wanna do this? You don't have to, it's okay I won't be mad" He asks the young timid child, "No? I'm okay. Just don't shoot me" Michael says. "We're not gonna let anything happen to you. Promise" Dean ensures him.

"What time is it?" Dean asks as they look at the live surveillance from Michaels room. Y/N checks her watch. "It's three" She tells him. "You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?" Sam asks him. "Consecrated iron rounds. And, yeah, it's what F/N used last time" Dean tells him. "Hey Dean, I'm sorry" Sam apologizes sincerely.

Dean looks at him confused, "For what?" He questions. Sam sighs, "you know, I've really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad and F/N's orders. But I know why you do it" Sam says in a heartfelt tone. "Oh, God. Kill me now" Dean groans, making Y/N and Sam chuckle. "Such a beautiful moment, we should totally have a sleep over and braid Sams hair after this" Y/N says in a high girly tone to lighten the mood, the two other hunters chuckle at her humor.

Her eyes snap to the screen when she sees a bit of movement on it, her expression switching to a serious one. "Wait, look" She whispers. The boys look closely at the screen to see a claw like hand sliding the window open. They all draw their weapons, cocking their guns.

While a terrified Michael sits at the bed, wide awake as the hooded figure looms over him. "Now?" Sam asks for the signal. "Not yet" Dean says. The figure moves closer to Michael as they look on, the video footage then begins to distort. Michael cringes in horror as it moves closer to suck the life force out of him.

"Hey!" Sam yells as the three burst into the room. "Michael, down!" Dean instructs him loudly, Michael then dives below the bed. As he does this, the three hunters then begin to empty their clips into the Shtriga. It falls to the ground and let's out an inhumane growl of pain. "Hun, you alright?" Y/N asks him. "Yeah" He responds shakily from under the bed.

"Just sit tight" Dean instructs him, moving over to the Shtriga. Sam and Y/N follow behind, aiming their guns at him to make sure he's dead. He seems to be so Dean turns back to them and nods. When suddenly the Shtriga grabs Dean by his throat in a flash. "Dean!" Sam and Y/N yell in panic as the Shtriga launches Dean into the wall.

They go to shoot again but it knocks their guns away and throws them both into the wall behind them. It strangles them both, opening Sams mouth to begin to suck his life force out. Sam begins to go weak as Y/N squirms underneath him, gasping for air. "No!!!" She screams, trying to get out from him but he's too strong. She tries to reach for her gun but it's too far away.

"Hey!" Dean calls out for the Shtriga. It turns to Dean as it's sucking Sams life force, with that Dean shoots it point blank in the forehead. Killing it for good this time. "You okay, guys?" He asks them. They both give him a weak thumbs up, getting up onto their feet. They look over the now dead Shtriga, white mist coming out of its bullet wound. Dean shoots him a couple more times for good measure.

This allows even more mist to swarm out of its body, the mist being the life force of the other kids it sucked out of. Michael then peeps out from under the bed. "It's okay, Michael. You can come on out" Dean tells him, he then gets up, a small smile on his face at the fact that it's over. And his brother will be okay. Dean pats his shoulder happily, a smile on his face.

________________________________

After the hunt, they were all exhausted. They decided to catch a couple of hours before hitting the road. The sun is beginning to rise in their room, the rays peeping through the window shades and onto Sams face. His eyes flutter open, groaning from the sunlight burning his eyes. He pushes himself up from his bed and throws his blanket off of him.

Then raking a hand through his bed head as he yawns, a smile creeps onto his face when he takes a look over at Dean and Y/N's bed. Deans arm was draped around Y/N's waist, his other hand under his head to support it. His nose nuzzled into the back of her hair at her neck while he back to pressed against his chest in a spooning position. One of Y/N's hand was dangling off the bed while her other hand rested right above Deans hand that was draped around her waist.

Sam had to stop himself from audibly cheering at the sight. So to savor the moment, he quickly takes his phone out to snap a picture at the cute moment, so he can tease them about it later on. He gets up from his bed and begins packing. A couple minutes later, Dean begins to stir in his sleep. He practically shoots up when he notices his position. Sam, who was basically giggling at Deans reaction as he folds his clothes.

This causes Deans gaze to snap over to his annoying little brother, "Not a word out of you, you hear me?" Dean grits his teeth, pointing at Sam. Who's still giggling. "I didn't say anything" Sam puts his hand up in surrender. Dean rolls his eyes but then freezes when he feels a shift in his pants. "Oh fuck" His mouth agape as he stares at his gaping erection tenting through his grey sweatpants.

"Son of a bitch....Son of a bitch!" He peels himself from the bed and dashes into the bathroom while covering his crotch with a towel. When the cold shower turns on, the pressure harder than usual, Sam realizes what's going on and snorts loudly. His eyes tearing from from laughter. "Don't take too long in there stud, she might think you're-" Sam teases his older brother.

"Shut the fuck up, Sam!" Dean yells embarrassed from the bathroom. This causes Y/N to stir in her sleep at their loud banter. "Man, what the hell are you two idiots yelling about this early?" She groans in annoyance, taking Deans pillow and stuffing it over her head. She's not aware of the situation that just played out, due to the fact she's very grouchy in the morning.

"Get your ass up sleeping ugly, we gotta go" Sam teases her, tossing a pillow at her head. It bounces off and onto the floor. "Ughhhh, five more minutes!" She groans childishly. Sam chuckles at this as Y/N forces herself off the bed, sleepily rubbing her tired eyes with her fingers. Dean exits the bathroom, a towel around his waist since he forgot to carry his clothes inside.

A blush rises to Y/N's cheeks at the sight of a shirtless Dean but she clears her throat. "What time is it?" She asks them. "After lunch" Dean informs her, looking down at his watch. She then sighs and grabs her towel from her bag to make her way lazily to the bathroom. When the shower turns her, she allows herself to smile.

She's always seen Dean shirtless but these past few weeks, since she admitted to herself that she has feelings for him. It's just been different, she felt more drawn to him. She can't explain it but she continues to tell herself to get her shit in check because she's not gonna allow her feelings to mess up their mission. Find the thing that killed their moms and kill it. Sounds easy enough. Right?

Meanwhile Sam is giving Dean a smug look as he puts his clothes on, "Seriously dude, stop looking at me like that" Dean groans as he slips his shirt on. "I never said anything man" Sam chuckles as he finishes packing his stuff. Dean rolls his eyes, "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" He narrows his eyes at his little brother as a laces his shoe up, smirk on Sams face as he throws his bag over his shoulder. "Nope" Sam responds, popping the 'p' at the end sassily.

________________________________

After they finished packing, the three hunters are putting their stuff in the trunk when Dean notices Joanna outside. "Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?" He asks her concerned. "Have you seen Michael?" She asks them. "Mom! Mom!" Michael calls out to his mom, running to hug her. "Hey!" Joanna smiles when she sees her son, wrapping her arms around him.

"How's Ash?" Michael asks her as they let go of the hug. "Got some good news. You're brothers gonna be fine" She tells him happily. This makes Sam, Dean and Y/N let out a breath of relief. "Really?" Michael asks surprised and happy. "Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's- it's a miracle." She explains as the three hunters share a look of relief.

"They're gonna keep him overnight, but after that, he's coming home" She tells them. "That's great" Dean says. "How are the other kids doing?" Sam asks. "Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the wards gonna be like a ghost town" She informs them happily.

"Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Heidecker?" Y/N asks, feigning confusion. "Oh, he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something" Joanne assumes. "Yeah, must have" Dean days vaguely. She then turns to her son, running a hand through his hair. "So, did anything happen while I was gone?" She asks him.

Michael has a slight guilty look on his face but covers it up, "No, same old stuff" He assures her. "Okay. You can go see Ash" She tells him. "Now?" He asks happily. "Only if you want to" Joanna says. He smiles at Dean who nods at him with a smile, he then runs over to their car and hops in. "I uh, better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself" Joanna jokes before going over to the car, parting ways with them.

They all sigh as Dean closes the trunk. "It's too bad" Sam says. "Oh, they'll be fine" Dean assured him. "I don't think that's what he meant" Y/N says, leaning against baby. "Yeah. I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be the same, you know?" Sam scoffs as Y/N nods in agreement.

Dean doesn't know how to answer this, "Sometimes I wish that..." Y/N begins but trails off sighing. "What?" Dean asks her. "I wish we could have that kind of innocence" Y/N says honestly, looking into Deans eyes. His heart skips a beat, breaking at the thought as he looks on at Joanna's car driving away.

"Yeah, me too" Sam agrees, sighing. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you two could've too" Dean admits sadly, jumping into Baby. Sam and Y/N file in behind as Dean starts the ignition and backs out of the motel lot to hit the road and face whatever God decides to throw their way.

________________________________

Authors Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this episode! I made it longer since I took long a while to write it. A shit ton of stuff has been going on and I've been trying to update because I find pure joy in writing this. So whoever is reading, thank you for being patient and I will try my best to work through everything and update as soon as possible. This chapter is unedited but I will come back to fix it soon enough.

Stay safe my beauties😘And remember that Sam, Dean and Y/N loves every single one of you the way I do🫶

Xoxo

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction

40 notes · View notes

astriiformes · 1 year

Text

Friend groupchat has been doing TOH finale analysis all afternoon and @thesixthstar made the comment "Luz is the Collector's Azura" and I am going to be rotating that one in my mind for. A long time. Forever maybe.

#the way the collector was used to really dig into/emphasize some of the most important parts of both luz and king's arcs #simultaneously but also uniquely #and didn't as specifically dig into eda's but still did a little because it emphasized her connection to the latter two so well #like the fact that they all walked through their relationship as a story and can share that story with someone else now #very very interesting use of a pretty out-there character concept; i was not sold on them at the end of s2 but like i get it now #(they also made for such an interesting contrast to belos -- someone who caused harm on accident instead of on purpose)#(and thus helped with fleshing out that theme of like. what really is morality/accountability for causing harm)#(which MAN i have a lot of feelings about the episode digging into that with luz given my own brain lately)#the finale was just. such an episode #anyways this post is mostly me doing the will smith hands at sharon's point because she is SO right #toh spoilers #f: us weirdos have to stick together

67 notes · View notes

barkingangelbaby · 3 months

Text

I feel like such a broken fucking person lol

I talked way too much in the tags don't read them

#fighting off the ideation like my life depends on it!! bc it does!!!#been good about not thinking certain phrases but F U C K am i feeling it. i want to turn into a pile of dust #i am so desperately trying to work on myself and change my patterns and bad habits and perspective but it feels like i always fall short #i try not to talk about it online but I'm just. having a very hard day with N because we experience our feelings in different ways #i isolate myself bc i struggle with regulating my reactions and tones when im having an episode but she needs me to talk through things and #i sometimes just. can't. bc I'm not done experiencing the negativity and am not in a place to have a productive convo bc shame spirals etc #we just spent a long time talking and being patient and i thought i was understanding and explaining myself well but i just. idk.#i don't know how to explain that of course i love her even if I'm isolating myself. of course i love her although I'm nonverbal today. i jus #t can't *make* myself talk when I'm like this i don't want to be nonverbal i don't want to isolate i don't want to be a distant partner i do #n't want to fall back into these patterns related to my grief i want to be better i am trying to be better i am working so fucking hard on #being better. i just feel so defeated bc this all spiraled from me not wanting to decide what to get for lunch n using a poor tone about it #I'm about to talk with her some more but I just. kinda don't want to exist right now. fuck dude. it feels so fucking awful when i upset her #like i love her so much she is so important to me and it breaks my heart that our entire day is shot bc i was tired and cranky #i just don't understand how that equates to me not loving her bc she is my whole world dude. I'm going to throw up #i also don't know how to explain to her that scrolling on tumblr is comfortable to me I'm not ignoring her it's just the SM that i scroll on #like we're hanging out watching tv together I'm gonna scroll a little bit. it's just not insta or anything #idk my mind is scrambled I'm crying I just want to be a better person who can calmly communicate my thoughts and emotions #today has just beat my fucking ass dude. i isolate so those feelings don't get translated into my interactions with others #i don't even know what i typed in these tags I just don't want to off myself or think about it I'm fighting myself so much 2day #rAMbles

4 notes · View notes

that-was-anticlimactic · 2 years

Note

whats spy x family about? and is it like- gruesome or horror or etc-

HI YES HELLO OMG OKAY LET'S GET INTO IT BECAUSE I LOVE SXF SO MUCH LIKE IT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHOWS / THINGS TO READ NOW NOT EVEN KIDDING

it's actually a comedy! there is some violence and some underlying darker themes because. they are quite literally on the brink of war. but in the end, the most important aspect of the story is found family.

imma just briefly describe the plot because. i want to talk about it lol

loid forger is a spy trying to prevent the war (and he is the most infamous spy) (codename: twilight). he gets assigned a mission to get close to this dude to help prevent war stuff. only issue is, this dude is super reclusive and quite literally like only ever leaves his house to attend very specific events for the school his two sons go to. so, the mission loid gets assigned is to get a child and a wife, get the child accepted into this super prestigious school, and get close to desmond (the guy).

he adopts a kid named anya, and unbeknownst to him, she is a telepath and can read thoughts. therefore, she knows that he's a spy. therefore, shenanigans ensue. she likes causing mischief and her favorite show from at the orphanage was this spy show so she's like super into spy stuff.

then comes yor briar. yor works for city hall and is an awkward but kind young lady but also, during the night, she's an assassin (codename: thorn princess). the secret police are these crappy dudes who idk they're just against the spy agency and hate twilight but anyways, they take suspicious people into questioning and that doesn't bode well for you. and being a single female close to your thirties is suspicious and some of yor's coworkers don't like her and were like "lol you're single you could get reported to the secret police" so she panics and is like "well actually i have a boyfriend so like y eah" and they're like "okay bring him to a party at my place this weekend then lol" and she goes to get her assassin dress fixed where she runs into loid and anya (loid is getting clothes for anya) and loid is like "oooh she's pretty, maybe she could work" and anya reads her thoughts, figures out she's an assassin and is like this woman needs to be my mom the drama would be so good and essentially gets it set up.

loid is pretending that his wife died awhile back and he needs a wife for their child (anya) to get into the school his deceased wife always wished she would get in, and asked if yor could be his fake wife. she agreed if loid would be her fake boyfriend for the party so she wouldn't get reported. loid accidentally messes up because of a mission thing he had to do right before the party and tells everyone that he's yor's husband, and then yor is like "lol what if we got married and had like a fake family so you can get your kid into the school and i can still kill people - i mean not get arrested" and loid is like "well this works even better for me"

so in conclusion: loid is a spy named twilight, yor is an assassin named thorn princess, anya is a telepath.

anya knows about loid and yor

neither loid nor yor know about each other or anya

and it's fantastic

#jingyi tag #and that's basically the first two episodes but simplified #it's such a good show i read like the entire manga that's out thus far in like two days i couldn't stop #also the eng dub is kind of bad tbh so if you watch it i suggest the sub - it's a lot better #but yeah at its core this is a show about three lonely people finding solace and happiness together and trying to convince themselves this #family isn't real as they slowly become a close-knit family who care about each other so much #and it's just. f rick. it is so good.#i love loid so much - he's just this tired overworked dude who just needs a nap and i love him #i mean i love all of them like there are only a couple characters that i hate and those are the characters you're Supposed to hate #i cannot suggest this enough #i also bawled when i read loid's backstory in the manga btw like. y eah. i bawled. it got to me.#it's just. they're all so lonely because anya is a telepath due to being experimented on and she was adopted but returned like four times #and kicked out of two orphanages and would do anything to keep loid and yor as her parents and everything loid cared about as a child was #destroyed and he feels like he has no one and doesn't know who he is and he's so scared to be close with people again #and yor is a lonely girl who doesn't read social cues v well and gets ostracized because she isn't 'girl' enough and both her parents died #when she was super young so she had to start working and sacrificed everything so her younger brother could eat and go to school #and they all happen to find each other and #AHHHHHHHHHHHHH #anyways i have. feelings.#hOPE THIS HELPS #corey rambles:)

23 notes · View notes

cherry-shipping · 1 year

Text

watching star trek with sans soooofun^________^

#this means im watching star trek and im clutching onto my sans stuffie for dear life #because. well you see im watching the episode where spock gets drugged by sex pollen and gets all giggly and cute like a highschool girl #and puts on silly overalls and fucking climbs trees and stuff #and talks about how much he loves the creepy girl sorry i immediately forgot her name even though ive seen this episode before #and well you see. that does stuff to me #ive talked abt spock on here before hes everything to me hes my 2nd biggest blorbo after U Know Who #if he wasnt gay and in love with kirk id be in love with him is the thing #so anyway whenever spock is being cute i go insane because hes my babygirl and stuff and i need my sans stuffie to hold onto #and im also simultaneously daydreaming about watching star trek with sans for realsies #you know how you do that with your fave f/os. like you just imagine youre doing whatever it is youre doing with them #like ill be in the kitchen getting milk or on my way to school or something and my brain is like #ok now pretend sans is there too #and without thinking im like ok sir yes sir. hey sans do you wanna hold hands #its the same now i think wed both have a lot of fun with star trek bc we both love science fiction (''ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS REAL!'')#and ive posted this before but i like imagining my f/os getting either very silently flustered when i gush about my favorite characters #(i.e. f/o sitting next to me getting silently worked up because i just spout pet names about my favorite character)#or that same exact thing except they get a little itsy bitsy teeny tiny jealous about it instead #OR they just think im cute when i get super excited about stuff #i like thinking about all of those like simultaneously with sans #cherry chats #bf (bone friend)#i kinda forgot what i was talking about near the end there somethings been wrong with my head lately i keep getting dizzy all the time #like every 30 seconds i just get hit with this intense wave of dizziness and lightheadedness and then after 1 second it goes back to normal #its like migranes except it doesnt hurt its just like my brain is a fish tryig to get enough momentum to jump out of the water (my cranium)#i thought it was low blood sugar but...... no matter what i eat or how much nothing changes #and it happens all the time too even when im just laying down #its sort of annoying and just a little bit unsettling but anyway as you can imagine it gets worse when im super excited like i am right now #so if im not making a lot of sense thats probably why. um. i forgot what i was doing #GOING BACK TO STAR TREK NOW BYE LOL!!!!!!!!!! sans is with me and were having soooo much fun

3 notes · View notes

thefunniestguy · 5 months

Text

hang on i'm gonna yell about season2 in the tags more bc now i'm . thinking so much

#SEASON 2 BABY !!!!!!!!!#i'm so curious of the plot . bc season 1 wrapped up nicely imo #BUT I WON'T COMPLAIN I LOVE MORE AT CONTENT #as long as it doesn't get into like . yk . where people milk a series or franchise Dry because it rakes in money #but AT has soooooo much lore and sooooooo so many good characters that atp i'm convinced that's lowkey impossible #they can realistically talk about things that we don't wanna hear but they would Not run out of content possibilities #i also am gonna die waiting again for s2 . i am fine and willing to wait bc Obviously i don't want this to be rushed . i'm jsut impatient #and it makes me kinda nostalgic [???] esp bc i remember a friend i had before f+c released . like before the trailer . when there was just #the bare minimum known other than it was in the works . and i remember talking with him about it and being So Excited #and anyway i haven't talked to him in ages and lost contact even before the trailer so i hope she's well . season 2 bestie [explodes]#UMMM ANYWAY . WANNA KNOW WHAT MAKES ME SAD #if there's no betty in s2 ......... bc i feel like they wrapped up all they wanted to do w her character ................#give me a season 2 where's it's just betty . i don't care if it's just 10 half hour episodes of betty just sitting there

0 notes

sunflowers-and-sweetviolets · 7 months

Text

anyway - head over heels for that old man <3

#he really plays into the conspiracy part of his tag in this episode #also a blorbo dies but thats by the by #conspiracy husband <3 #ok ramble abt Gwen in the tags #I really like her! i know shes his first wife and all but shes so well written i kinda love her #and do you guys know how funny it is so have an f/o who fucks in cannon /joke #she's as crazy as him and still has/had (he fucks up in this episode w her lol) respect for him #i expected to be really jealous but i actually really like her. one of the traits of John i really like is his dedication to his interests #*cough* autisim *cough* and shes the same as him. so i find her really endearing #i also really love her speech and vocal patterns. i just really like how she talks lol #one of my fav things about Lanik is his voice so i think I just like voices that scratch my brain and hers really does #shes so cool i love her #also unrelated but i like how we can hear Fin shuffling in the background and John just goes 'This is a private conversation' to him #HES SO FUNNY #she wanted to be with him again but John had to lie to her to protect her and others and it breaks my heart #she says 'going BACK on medication'...i love her <3 bt it imples she was so sick John couldnt cope #and Liv makes a good point - shes mentally ill and she feels bad for her. its sweet.#i actually didnt know Fin didnt know who Gwen was!#that surprised me. I forgot that was Baltimore lore of John. not NY stuff #tbf John didnt know Ken existed so it evens out lol

0 notes

ahundredtimesover · 4 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: TBD

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko

A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!

And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕

Season 1 -> Playlist 🎶: on the way home

Episode 1 (wc: 12k)

Episode 2 (wc: 11.9k)

Episode 3 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 4 (wc: 11.4k)

Episode 5 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 6 (wc: 14.6k)

Episode 7 (wc: 15.4k)

Episode 8 (wc: 17.4k)

Episode 9 (wc: 18.4k)

Episode 10 (wc: 20.6k)

Episode 11 (wc: 23.5k)

Episode 12 (wc: 24.7k)

Episode 13

Episode 14 - End

Season 2 (??)

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #boss au #workmates au #jungkook #bts jungkook

4K notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 20 days

Note

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

#dirty drabbles #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester reader inser #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic

652 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 6 months

Text

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere harem #yandere various #multiple yandere #crossdressing reader #crossdresser reader #yandere male #male yandere #fem yandere #yanderecore

1K notes · View notes

inbarfink · 8 months

Text

I have… so many little thoughts about Simon’s shift in the climax of ‘Prismo the Wishmaster’. He’s so ready to give up, to resign to Death By Interdimensional Beetle Cop. And the thing that pulls him out of it, gets him to see a purpose in his life again, is seeing Fionna cry.

And this moment is so important for Fionna and Cake because this is their first moment to really process the Implications and Consequences of their magical adventure. You know, it’s not just a dream you can wake up from - this is actually a matter of life and death and the fate of their entire world.

And it’s actually, also kinda the same from Simon’s perspective? Even if he was already told they are real and have been real all along a while ago - I think seeing Fionna break out in tears is really the moment where he processed her not as a manifestation of Ice King’s madness, not as yet another way the universe is kicking him when he’s down, not as a cruel joke at his expense. But really actually as people, who need his help.

And, I think about this, also in context with this moment?

Simon Petrikov is… a dad at heart. Simon’s first focus episode in F&C starts with a prologue of him and Marceline surviving in the wasteland. Showing that despite being under much more miserable circumstances

he still seemed to hold himself together far better than present-day Simon.

Because the need to protect Marcy and keep her happy was giving him purpose and a motivation to hold himself together.

And this desire to help and nurture and protect is clearly still deep within him. It’s just that now he feels incapable for doing so. In both body-

And spirit -

But now, suddenly, he is once again the Only Person Who Can Help this younger person in distress.

And I think that is a huge part of his motivation to keep on going right now. I mean, just look at how quickly he goes from dismissing Fionna and Cake - into basically declaring that he has to protect them. And fully willing to sacrifice his own identity and sanity to bring magic back to their world because he knows it’ll make Fionna and Cake happy. Because the moment he saw Fionna tear up, he basically decided to Adopt her.

And that’s, you know, technically a step forward - but it is a very very imperfect step.

Like, at the very least he’s not drinking his sorrows away while waiting for death out of pure despair and spite. At least he has a sense of purpose and a reason to open up for others again and bond. And we’ve seen how much this has been a great coping mechanism for pulling himself together through difficult times.

My guess is that after two episodes of only seeing Simon Petrikov at his lowest and very worst - Fionna and Cake are finally going to get an understanding of Simon’s actual positive qualities as his dad-instincts are going to bring them up to the surface again.

Buuuuuuuut….

You know, tying your sense of self-worth and motivation entirely to how well you can Dad is not particularly healthy in the long run either. And it’s going to cause problems both for Simon and for F&C.

Looking at it from what's best of Simon, for the sake of protecting Fionna and Cake and making them happy by bringing magic and wonder back into their world - Simon is willing to throw himself right into the suffering and trauma that he’s been fearing all this time and has been trying so hard to get away from. I mean, it’s also about how Simon has started to miss being Ice King in a weird twisted way and how he resigned himself to being miserable in general. It’s also about that, but the part that he actually says out loud is that he’s doing this to protect Fionna and Cake.

So that’s, you know, still very Not Good. Simon can’t hang his entire ability to properly function on there being Younger People who need his protection. He can't actually move forwards by trying to relive the Better Times of the Horrible Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland. That's not a sustainable coping mechanism. And it’s an incredibly unhealthy amount of self-sacrifice.

And on Fionna’s side… she never said she wanted Simon to protect her.

She might want a useful teammate or a helping hand, she might need a friend. But I don’t think she needs a Dad. Simon is surely old enough to be her father (even just counting his age biologically and not the fact he’s 1058 years old) but Fionna’s not a Literal Child like Marcy was. Fionna Campbell is a grown-ass woman in her early 30’s (Finn is 29 years old right now and there was always kinda the implication that Fionna was a bit older than him).

(And, heck, if she IS the daughter of a gender-flipped Minerva Campbell, she is probably not in the market for a new overprotective dad. She’s fully booked out on that.)

AND while Fionna does not possess full memories of her magical-adventuring-self, she clearly retains some of her fighting and athletic abilities.

Meanwhile Cake is clearly an adult in cat years and is just as much of an insanely powerful shapeshifter as Jake was.

So where does this middle-aged scrawny nerd get off, acting like it’s his job to sacrifice his mind in order to protect them?

And Fionna very much wants to be the hero, she wants to be at the center of the action. It is no coincidence that her own idealized version of Ice King/Simon is a Tuxedo Mask.

Someone who can give her a helping hand and words of encouragement when things get rough -

But still lets her be the main hero of the story.

And you know, right now Fionna and Cake have not fully processed the implications of Simon choosing to become Ice King… but once they see a bit of who Simon really is at his better moments. Yeah, they’re probably gonna have some objections to the idea that he should throw his entire identity away just for their own sake.

Back when Simon allowed the Crown to slowly consume him so he could protect Marcy, it felt like a noble sacrifice. It really seemed like he had no other options. But now he has the entire multiverse on his disposal and two serious badasses on his side. Simon has to learn to see the difference between a codependent senseless self-sacrifice and something that will actually help Fionna and Cake.

So if Simon is really going to lean too hard on his Dad aspect, it’s actually going to cause some really big problems down the line. For his own mental well-being, and for Fionna and Cake. It is in a way, a step in the right direction. And I think it’s going to lead to our main trio finally becoming closer and understanding each other - but unless Simon learns to temper himself, it’s going to cause some serious interpersonal conflicts.

At least this is my thoughts about these interactions right now. I know they’ve been really short but I think they’re really full of Meaning and Emotions. But really, we’ll just have to wait and see.

2K notes · View notes

j4gm · 8 months

Text

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL

Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.

During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.

The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.

The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.

Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.

Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.

We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.

The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.

It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.

The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?

In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.

The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.

The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.

Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.

Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.

Episode 2 to follow!

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

2K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Text

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees. “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up. They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare). Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Again? Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed. “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted. “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody. I’m quieter than both of you. I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me. Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked. “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all. “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited. That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered. Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him. It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny? He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched. He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out. “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted. So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once. Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things). You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed. You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that. Mysterious. Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else. He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you. Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel. You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you. You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you. Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off. For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service. Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you. It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did. That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied. Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa. You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked. You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since. Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that. Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it. But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say. Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else. But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old! These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you. That made you sad. But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper. “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back. Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this. They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose. He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed. “Quick and painless. Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it. "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion. "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation. Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to. It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations. After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment. There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed. Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it. It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could. Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive. It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him. It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut. Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you. He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later. “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration. “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed. “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget. He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer? You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part. Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off. Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place. The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way. But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to. Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible. In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time. Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold. “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different. More… exhausted. “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath. For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away. Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out. The door slammed behind her. Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral. You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter. “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little. Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it. He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible. Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across. You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that. For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever. “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something. “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh. “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now. Probably not, right? He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised. “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared. He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you. Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too. He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off. You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it. “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag. “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced. “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh? “Why don’t you just let me go? Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come. “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset. "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly. "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered. "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had. “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly. "You're good. You're sweet. Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding. "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank. "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears. "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted. “You understand that? I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped. “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that. “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love? Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No! Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him. “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine. That’s fair. But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you. I know that! I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you! Okay? So just… just stop talking! Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke. “It was last night, after you left,” he explained. “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued. “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel. “It’s cute, really. I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react. “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet. Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply. “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay? So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar. Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him. “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started. The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before. Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though? Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong. It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut. “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered. Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought. “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank. “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped. “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away. But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you. Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment. It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston. “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment. “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been. “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other. “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit. “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper. “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled. “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth. “I know,” he promised. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha? Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return. It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined. You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer. Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that. Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you. And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress. You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you. But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would. You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all. “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious? It probably was. But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that. “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me. Hold me. Take care of me. And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons. The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself. "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine. "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs. You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though. He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds. "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours. Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless. Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside. It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were. You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood. "Baby, you… are you— is this your—? Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me. I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good! M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples. He smiled, just a little. "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly. "What am I gonna do with you, little girl? You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs. He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before. “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.

“Yeah?” he repeated. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg. “Um— please? Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here. “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat. “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets. You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight. And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back. He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—? Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed. "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking. Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive. Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it. "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls. You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all. It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before. “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb. It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet. “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot. "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation. He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress. And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped. When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously. "Kinda sour."

"Really? I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly. "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me. Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay? Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago. But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening. It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming. You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours. "See how you're takin' all'a me? God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet. You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this? This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt? This was ecstasy, bliss. And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear. "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient. Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you. "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you. I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper. “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted. “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined. His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked. “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously. It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything. Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion. "Hear that? How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust. You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth. "I asked you a question," he reminded you. "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh? Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked. "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You don't need to think. I don't need you to think. You can just be my fucktoy, okay? You can just be my slut. Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything. Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it). You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different. Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you). This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face. “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone. “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that. Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey? You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better. “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it. Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside. You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin. “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time. You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence. He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

4K notes · View notes

chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months

Text

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin

746 notes · View notes