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#when I get back to YELL I put in for emergency days off
envysparkler · 2 days
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Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.
“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick.  Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.
Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.
“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.”  The bitterness was palpable.  “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”
Jason shrunk back slightly.  It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.
Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched.  Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed.  Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.
“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name.  His blue eyes were sharp and cold.  “So.  New Robin, huh.”  His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.
“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step.  “Uh, it was nice to meet you.  I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Where are you going?”  Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.
Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts.  Abstract.  Not real.  Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.
Bruce wasn’t scary.
Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be.  Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons.  He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.
And Jason was here with him, all alone.  Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.
Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week.  Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical.  Fights to the death often occur.
“Upstairs?”  Jason hated the way it turned into a question.  “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”
“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality.  “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”
Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.
“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace.  “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”
“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”
~#~
Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless.  Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see.  Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.
“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.
“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest.  Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.
“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net.  Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.
“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”
Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling.  He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl.  “Nope, just practice.  Grew up in the circus.  I could fly before I could run.”
“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding.  “Can you teach me how to do that?”  Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world.  It sounded like freedom.
It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded.  He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace.  When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away.  “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here.  “Maybe later.  You need a lot of training first.  How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”
There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge.  “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area.  Need a lot of training first.  Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets.  He knew how to fight.  “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”
That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.
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thistlefaethfort · 1 day
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YELLOW
— read this first or this might not make sense!
— ao3 link!
If Sandra Lynn had her way, the Solesian Rangers work schedule would be a little more focused on rest and recovery, but she couldn’t really complain about the leniency the organisation had for people with families at home. No one had been more quick to sign off on her time off requests than her manager, she knew that Sandra Lynn was competent enough to catch up as quickly as needed. In a few months, she thought she would probably offer her the role herself. Today though, she finished up at lunch time and arrived home, shoulders weary with the weight of yellow paint cans.
It was a buttery, blonde colour that made her itchy to look at. It was the colour of Baxter’s feathers when they were downy and he was so young that sometimes she let him sleep at the foot of her bed, even on the nights Fig had crawled in between her and Gilear. It was something warm that got sharp late in the day, when the sun settled on it low in the sky late in the afternoon. Like milk poured in a sweet honey tea. It was golden and there were enough cans of it left on the shelf that Sandra Lynn thought people probably underestimated it. She thought it would make the chapel look like a bedroom.
It took her a handful of hours to painstakingly move everything away from the walls: the bedframe, the posters, the duffel bag that she point blank refused to look at for longer than a few seconds at a time — just in case. Once everything was piled up in the centre and covered with a tarp, Sandra Lynn put on an old shirt that was probably not hers but had ended up in her closet anyway and pulled out her brushes from under the sink. She washed the walls, scrubbed at them until dust stopped falling from the stone, and stared at the stained glass for long enough that the sun shifted to glare back through the angel's golden halo.
Then the door opened further across the house and she grinned to herself; it was easier now, to breathe knowing all the kids were safe under her roof, because she knew they were taking care of each other. There was no reason to hover around all the places her adopted and not yet adopted kids might be, because she was trying to trust that they would come to her if they needed a mom, or an adult, or a squirrel killer. Sandra Lynn could try to trust them for that. Fabian yelled something and Jawbone howled in a way that usually meant hang tight. Aelwyn spoke and there was a higher pitched response in that oh so similar Fallinel accent that was getting fainter as the two disappeared up the stairs. Fig cackled and there was the sound of at least four footsteps pounding across the house to where she knew her girl kept her guitar. She was distracted, not noticing when her final kid reappearing home for the day emerged through the door to her room.
It took a lot of effort not to jump and drop the paintbrush when Kristen’s voice, muffled by what looked like a fistful of popcorn that sprayed halfway across the room when she said ‘thandragh thlinn?’ Maybe time had gotten away from her, because she hadn’t expected for the girl to see the room until it was done, and her mind had already sprinted away to try and figure out if any beds were going spare tonight or if they should set up the den sleepover style. Pointedly, she didn’t think about how rare a night was where she didn’t hear light footsteps pattering about the house in the early hours. When everyone was home, there were ten kids with their own bedrooms (except for Adaine who let her sister share), and all of them were traumatised. They were good to each other though, and on the nights she thought the awake one might need a hug or a mug of tea, there was always a second teenager perched next to them; eyes blurry with sleep but risen for their friend anyway. She must have been quiet too long, because the voice started again, clear now, ‘are you painting in here? Did I forget you were doing this? I’m sorry —’ Sandra Lynn cut her off ‘ — I was wrong. Kristen I was wrong to put you in here and now the house is filling up and I don’t have a different room for you, so I picked up some paint,’ her fingers spasmed. It had been a bad, thoughtless call at the time. Kristen had grown up groomed and hurt by a church and she had to be reminded of every time she went to bed or woke up, and now she was sleeping in it alone, without even a God to pray goodnight to. She picked up one of the cans and showed her the colour, a glob hitting the tarp she had laid down over the old wood floors, and tried for a smile, ‘yellow, but not as bright as your tracksuit.’
Much to Sandra Lynn’s horror (because her shirt was covered in paint and her kid was wearing something other then that tracksuit for once and she would do anything to encourage her to wear other things as often as possible), Kristen’s eyes started to shine and her shoulders sagged. The woman dodged drips of paint and made her way to the girl, squeezing her shoulder hard enough to drag her back to earth. Her voice cracked and suddenly Sandra Lynn didn’t know whether or not she was going to cry herself, but she did laugh, just a little and quietly. ‘You got some muscle going kid, you sure you don’t wanna join the ranger track?’ She asked, mostly joking but not all the way. All of her Bad Kids were going to excel at whatever it was they chose to do in the end, but she hoped they thrived as a group first, she hoped they did whatever they wanted and it never hurt. Her smile grew a little bittersweet and she hoped Kristen didn’t catch it as she reminded herself that that was never how an adventurer’s story ended.
She offered out a paintbrush, ‘you gonna help me finish these last few walls or are you crashing at someone else’s room tonight?’
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emilybeemartin · 7 months
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Just to tie in my two themes this month----
Additional notes, because poll options apparently limit their characters:
Frodo finds great peace in watching the tides rise and fall throughout each day. He attends all the ranger programs on birds and seashells and fills pages with sketches and poetry.
Sam meticulously selects postcards in the gift shop for each of his friends and spends a whole morning writing and addressing them. He also buys Junior Ranger hats for his kids and a variety of Appalachian jams for Rosie.
Park rangers launch a Missing Person search for Aragorn when they realize his car's been parked at Avalanche Creek for three days. The search runs for almost a week before he comes strolling out the opposite side of the park, supporting one of the SAR techs who twisted an ankle during the search.
Legolas is first drawn to Olympic for the towering, mossy temperate rainforests, but the ground goes out from under him when he steps onto Second Beach for the first time. He spends an entire day watching the light and tides shift on the sea stacks, and he leaves feeling both full and hollow, like a bell that's just been rung.
Mammoth is only Gimli's first stop on a cavern tour, followed by Jewel and Wind Caves and Carlsbad Caverns. Wind Cave is his favorite for the unusual formations. He makes an obnoxious tween boy cry in Carlsbad for breaking off a speleothem.
Boromir is on a tour of military parks. He asks so many questions to the intern working the info station at Fort Sumter the kid has to go find the park historian. His favorite site is Vicksburg because that place was buckwild, though he silently judges one of the reenactors for his clumsy handling of a black powder rifle.
Merry also makes stops in Jurassic and Dinosaur National Monuments. He watches every park video, takes selfies in front of all the fossil exhibits, and earns his Junior Ranger badge at each one. He buys a keychain for Pippin.
Pippin actually gets four citations, mostly for trying to stick his hands in mud pots. He doesn't mean anything by it---he's just so delighted and curious about the bizarre landscape. He winds up with several thermal burns and dumps a king's ransom in the donation box on his last day.
Gandalf gets dinged by rangers for not paying the $5 fee for Trunk Bay, but he acts senile until they eventually decide to drop it. He gets postcards from everyone and responds to none of them.
Faramir and Eowyn are traveling together and do many of the same hikes and rides, but they do have some different preferences off-trail. Eowyn drags Faramir to a rodeo and the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, and he goads her into Ranger Shelton Johnson's living history programs on the Buffalo Soldiers in Yosemite.
Eomer is bike-packing on his sport cruiser motorcycle. He goes to Roosevelt south unit for the wild horse herds but ends up spending half a day watching a prairie dog town. He takes 400 photos of them, mostly blurry, and texts them to Eowyn.
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hoodielord · 4 months
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Green eyes in the fear fog.
For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.
Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.
The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.
Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.
"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."
"You can do better." she shrugged.
" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.
" Danny, please don't."
"Challenge accepted."
Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.
But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.
If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.
It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.
Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.
The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.
"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.
Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.
" Put the mask on and head for the exit."
"But I need to find Jazz."
"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.
It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.
"Stop! Get away!"
It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.
"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.
If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.
"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"
Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.
"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."
A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.
From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.
He knelt down to Scarecrow.
"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.
He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.
"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.
Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.
"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.
"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."
Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.
"Sorry about the tour too."
"It wasn't all bad."
" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.
" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”
‘Ghosts?’
“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”
“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”
Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.
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zombiefiilm · 4 months
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Fell in Love
spencer reid x gn!reader
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summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch
warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n
word count: 1.5k
The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.
Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.
But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.
Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.
You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.
"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.
"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.
"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.
"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."
Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.
“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.
“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.
You nodded in response.
“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.
“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.
“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.
“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.
“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.
“Wow” you feigned offence.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.
“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”
“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.
“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”
“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"
"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."
"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"
He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.
You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.
You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.
You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.
As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.
"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.
“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.
“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.
"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.
“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.
Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.
The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.
“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.
“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.
“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”
“Of course I can”
“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.
“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.
“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.
“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”
You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.
“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.
“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.
In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.
Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.
It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.
The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.
With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.
There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.
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bookofbonbon · 3 months
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green is not your colour (1) - coriolanus snow.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Warning: Implied cheating.
Summary: You've been engaged to Coriolanus Snow for a few short weeks and have been living together for even shorter but, the betrothal is put through its first test when Coriolanus's affair makes itself known. Part (1/2).
Wordcount: 1.3k.
A/N: This takes place in the 'You Keep Him There' universe. A couple of months before Christmas Kiss. Please tell me you catch the Yellowstone reference.
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11 months ago.
The stone bench cuts into the skin of your exposed thigh, one leg crossed over the other as your arm rests along the back of the garden seat. Goosebumps cover the length of your body; remnants of last night’s cold snap are still evident as the icy blanket that covers the Manor’s grounds slowly melt away with the slow rising sun. 
Of course, the cold was of no concern. Not when you had your new found habit to keep you warm. 
Taking a drag from the lit cigarette between your fingers, your gaze is unwavering as you stare down the anxious chauffeur who had pulled into the driveway of your new home at the same time that you did - belonging neither to you or Coriolanus.
It had taken you all of 30 seconds to piece together what was going on and who the car belonged to - after all, you weren’t supposed to be home until the afternoon. You aren’t surprised Coriolanus would do this but, it doesn’t make it hurt any less; doesn’t temper the green eyed monster threatening to rear its ugly head.
Sure, you didn’t like him but, the two of you had known each other your entire lives; would marry in less than a year, he belonged to you- you'd hoped those things would at least mean something to him too but, it doesn’t and again, that doesn’t surprise you but, you are disappointed. Disappointed that he would bring this into your home.
The chauffeur fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, unsure of where to look as his gaze shifts nervously between you and the front doors until finally, they open and he relaxes slightly, eager to escape the weight of your stare as he wrenches the car door open for his passenger. 
You watch, hidden from their view as she emerges from your home, bidding farewell to your fiance. Crushing the cigarette, you wait until she’s about to enter the car to make your presence known. 
“I always suspected there may be something more between the two of you but, to become his mistress?” You stand, making your way over to her. 
Stopping a metre out, you drag your gaze lazily over her figure until you meet her own surprised one. 
“My, my, Clemensia, I never expected that from you,” you tut. “Although, I won’t lie. After your… stint in the hospital back in our academy days, I didn’t think he’d ever look at you again.” 
She flinches at your words but it doesn’t keep her down for long. The red-eyed, puffy-cheeked beauty straightening her back and puffing her chest with an air of arrogance that you did not appreciate. 
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” you repeat, laughing at the nerve of her. “Clemensia, this is my house. I can come and go as I please but, you? Well, we are going to have a problem if I see you around here again.”
"You can't stop me. He was mine first."
You take an intimidating step closer. 
“You want to sleep with Coriolanus? Fine. That’s your choice but, not in my house. Affairs are for hotels not homes, and if you ever step foot in mine again, I will make sure you never take another step again. Got it?”
She swallows thickly but nods her understanding. 
"Good. Now get off of my property before, I have you removed from it."
You don’t wait for her to go, sights immediately set on the fool you were to take as your husband in less than a year.
“Coriolanus,” you yell, throwing the doors open, anger finally revealing itself. “Coriolanus!”
You find him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking equally as surprised as his whore to see you. Unlike her however, he’s quick to hide it. 
“When did you-”
“You keep your whores out of my house, Coriolanus,” you warn him. “You keep your whores out of my house or I will teach you a lesson that I promise you will never forget.”
-
You spend the rest of the day sleeping, too tired from the morning's events and traveling to do anything else but rest, so it’s dark out by the time you leave your room. 
Padding down the staircase, your tummy makes its hunger known, growling out for anyone awake to hear. Sleepily, you make your way to the kitchen, not noticing the dim light emitting from the space until you're already inside with an unwanted guest. 
You look at him for a moment, thinking about whether to tuck tail and turn away or continue on your journey for food- your stomach makes your decision for you however, when it growls again. 
Coriolanus is the first to speak. “There's a plate in the fridge for you.” 
You don’t acknowledge him, opening the fridge in silence and indeed finding the plate of food inside. You pretend he’s not there as you move around the kitchen to warm your food up. When everything is ready, you take a seat at the kitchen bench- it’s then that Coriolanus decides to speak again.
“I think we should talk about this morning.”
“We have,” you answer him, tone clipped. “And I told you not to bring your whores into my house again.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
You breathe a laugh of disbelief. Was it not enough to discover what you did this morning now, he wanted to discuss it too? Picking up your plate, you make to leave- there were other rooms in this place that you could eat peacefully in. 
“It’s over-” he follows after you, blocking your path. “Me and Clemmie. I ended things with her.”
“Clemmie,” you scoff the name. “How very considerate of you. Does she know that?”
“She does and I didn’t end it because of what happened this morning- I ended things weeks ago. She’s just having a hard time letting go but, I promise it is. I’m with you.”
You pause- pinching the bridge of your nose.
“You should’ve ended it months ago, well before we even got engaged.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
You nod but don't forgive him and he uses your silence to keep talking. 
“I want to make this work, I want us to get along, I want-” he hesitates, taking your free hand. “I want you to like me.” 
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“You made it very clear in the Academy that you don’t, I doubt your opinion of me has changed much since.” 
You smile bitterly down at your joined hands. Your dislike for Coriolanus in school differed vastly from why you disliked him now.  
You wonder if it would ever be possible to like Coriolanus Snow now. 
It was hard to see the possibility when your entire being now depended on marrying him. Your grandparents had already loved him, he was Old Guard, cut from the same cloth and as he got older, they saw the future in Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem. And that was before the proposal was even brought to them. Once it was… they would be damned if you married anyone else. When you attempted to go against it, they had made it known that they were more than willing to reduce you to nothing; taking steps to ensure you couldn’t refuse by hinging your inheritance of the Blizzard Telecommunications and Mass Media Empire and wealth on marrying him. Coriolanus Snow had snatched any freedom or hope for the future you envisioned for yourself away from you and he didn’t even know it. 
Maybe one day you’d move past it or maybe one day he'd accept that you never would but, for now you settle for “maybe you can start with buying me a new house.”
Coriolanus chuckles but you're being serious and he agrees, "soon."
“And Coriolanus?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't ever want to see you with Clemensia Dovecote again. I don’t take kindly to those who you would threaten to take what is mine. Green is not my colour and, I promise you won’t like seeing me in it either.”
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.
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tallulah477 · 6 months
Text
Hunting the Tawtute
Kinktober Day 19: Threesome
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting
Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)
A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.
Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 
Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid
**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**
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Translations:
Tawtute -  Human
Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators
Sevin - Pretty
Vrrtep - Demon
Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)
The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 
You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 
You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 
You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 
You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.
A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 
“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”
The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 
“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”
The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 
A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 
You are going to die. 
You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 
You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.
The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.
“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”
With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 
“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 
You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.
“Better run faster, human!”
“Getting tired already, baby?”
“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”
“We’re going to get you!”
Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 
Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 
The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 
“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”
“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”
You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 
“Bullshit,” You spit.
The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”
The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?
“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 
They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 
“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”
More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”
“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”
Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 
“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.
“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”
Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 
“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”
You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.
Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.
It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”
The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 
“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 
Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.
“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”
“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.
“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 
“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”
“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”
In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 
The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.
Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 
“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.
You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.
Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  
You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 
Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”
His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 
“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 
When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.
Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.
“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”
“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 
Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 
“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 
You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”
“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”
There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 
The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 
And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.
“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 
Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.
“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”
His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 
Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.
Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.
You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 
He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.
“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”
“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”
You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.
Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 
It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.
You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 
“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”
Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 
You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 
“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.
His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 
“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”
“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”
“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”
“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”
Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 
You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 
“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”
“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”
Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 
Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.
Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 
“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”
The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 
“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”
His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 
You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”
He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 
“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”
“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”
“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 
Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.
Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.
“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”
“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 
Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”
Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”
His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.
He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 
They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 
You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 
“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 
There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .
“You’re ours now,”
Extra>>>
**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife
2K notes · View notes
thisonehere · 4 months
Text
The Lin Kuei boys get jealous after you get flowers from another man
Mk1 Headkanons
C/w: Yandere tropes, jealousy, toxic relationship, G/n reader, mentions of violence, stalking, these men being unreasonable and irrational lol
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Bi-Han
The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei has never been affectionate, especially when it came to you. But while saying that, he hated the idea of someone else showing you affection or even making you happy. The idea of another (especially a man) putting a smile on your face, giving you a warm feeling inside, even making you laugh, burned him.
So when someone (Maybe some member of the Lin Kuei or even Johnny Cage) works up the courage to give you a nice bouquet, he rages.
You can feel his eyes burn a hole into the back of your head as you graciously receive the gift and thank the man.
You smile and giggle causing Bi-Han to shake with rage. The final straw was when he saw your face, or what was on your face. Blush, you were blushing. Bi-Han's mind begins to race. Why are you blushing? Does he make you happy? Happier than when you are with him? Did you prefer this man to him?
Without even thinking anymore he attacks the man, punching him so hard that his teeth are scattered all over the floor. He pummels him with no mercy and not a single sign of stopping. It takes you and a few other Lin Kuei to finally rip him off the poor man.
You drag him home but this isn't the end of it. "What is wrong with you?" "YOU and you whoring ways." before you know it, you're arguing, neither of you shows any sign of relenting. Soon the arguing turns into a screaming match, and things get so heated to the point that Bi-Han punches a wall leaving a massive dent.
Tears stream down your face as you yell at him to get out. For a moment his eyes soften and grow wide with hurt and shock, but immediately harden as he turns and slams the door behind him, basically breaking the door and the wall. Leaving you there alone crying.
Time passes, minutes become hours, hours become days, days, become weeks, and you and Bi-han haven't talked to each other. Whenever you see each other you quickly look away, refusing to even make eye contact with the man. You don't see it, but Bi-Han is hurt by this, but he buries it down and puts on his usually stern face.
Finally, it all ends one night when you hear someone knocking at your door. You open it to find Bi-Han, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are puffy and red, he's trying his best to keep it together but it's obvious that he'll break at any second.
"I'm... Sorry." He forces out his mouth, this is something hard for him to do. He'd rather be fighting Liu Kang than be facing you right about now. "You mean so much to me, I don't want to lose you..." he admits.
He then gets onto his knees and prostrates himself before you. After a few moments, you sigh and let him back inside.
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Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang has never hidden his love for you, he'd show it every chance he got. He'd buy you gifts and send you poems spouting his eternal devotion to you, and more stuff like that. He feels confident in this relationship and your feelings for him.
So when that man comes up to you and gives you flowers, he isn't the least bit jealous... well, that's what he wants to believe.
It bothers him the way you smile at receiving the gift, you laugh and even blush. What are you doing, he thinks to himself. Why are you acting like this? Does his gifts make you act this way? Aren't you happy with him? Isn't he enough for you?
He forces a smile onto his face and tries to retain his composure. He then finds the opportunity and interjects, saying something like you need to go because of an emergency.
Afterwards, he will do everything in his power to make you happy. Do you want flowers? Fine, he'll find the most beautiful and exotic ones the realms could offer. He'll make multiple gestures to display his affection, hoping that you'll return it.
But at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how many times you tell him you love him, he will see that bouquet of flowers that you still keep and jealousy and insecurity consume him.
One day, he'll see the flowers in the pot you specifically chose for it and just stare at them. Before he can even top and think, he grabs the pot and throws it to the ground. He stomps at it and even uses his power to burn it to ashes.
Of course, all this ruckus gets your attention and you rush in and find Kuai Liang hitting the ground where the flowers were. Its ground is broken and charged by his spontaneous and reckless actions.
"What are you doing?!" You shout, both confused and even scared by this. Kuai's head shoots up realizing you're in the room. "Y/n, I didn't...You...I... I'm sorry." He turns and rushes out of the room.
For the next few weeks, Kuai will avoid you at all costs. Too ashamed of himself to face you after what he did. Every time you try to talk to him he quickly gets away. You don't understand why he's acting like this, did you do something? Does he hate you?
Finally, you can corner him. You try to talk to him, ask him what's wrong. Kuai rushes past you and attempts to quickly get away from you, but he stops when he hears a sniffling noise. He turns and sees you crying. It was then he finally realised how much he was hurting you. He hated himself even more now, he was so busy thinking about himself that he didn't even stop to think about how his actions were affecting you.
He walks back up to you and holds you. "I-I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. Those flowers... they...it doesn't matter anymore. I love you." He says as he pulls you in and tightly holds you.
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Tomas Vrbada
Tomas was and always has been insecure about the relationship. He's constantly scared that you'll one day leave him. You were the most beautiful and wonderful thing to happen to him, how could he not worry that things were too good to be true. It didn't help that he knew about all the others that desired you. He already lost his family, he couldn't lose you as well.
When you are offered flowers by that man, Tomas does everything he can to maintain his composure as you smile and laugh as you happily receive the gift. He watches as you continue your conversation with the man, he feels strange urges come over him. The urge to rip the flowers from out your hands and stomp them to pieces, the urge to beat the man to a bloody pulp, the urge to...what was happening to him?
Quickly he interjects into the conversation and insists that you have to go. You leave and Tomas tries to stop thinking about what just happened. But the way you are smiling at the bouquet so fondly it makes him go mad.
For the next few weeks nothing happens, Tomas seems off though. You ask what's wrong but he insists that everything is fine. So you don't think much about it, if Tomas wants to talk to you about it he will. And continue on with your daily routines...unaware that Tomas is following you.
Everywhere you go, he's too far behind. He keeps to the shadows, using powers to help him hide from you. He has to see everything you do, everywhere you go, every person you talk to. He loves you, but he can't seem to trust you for the life of him.
You realize something's wrong when Kuai comes to you and reveals that Tomas hasn't been fulfilling his tasks and duties. You immediately start to get concerned. He's been very distant lately, does this have anything to do with it? Why was he acting strange? Why won't he talk to you about it? You try to catch him before he leaves and talk to him. But seems to avoid you like the black plague and rushes out of the house.
You sigh and go on with the rest of your day. But since Kuai told you this news, you've seemed to become on edge for no reason. You become paranoid that someone is following you. As you make your way through your daily routine, you see the very same man who gave you the flowers and happily go to him and have a conversation.
Tomas watches you two talk and he feels an anger rise up in him. The way you two chatted so happily like you were in love, Tomas couldn't take it any more and spring from the shadows and confront you. "I-I can't believe you, was nothing we had special?!"
You didn't understand what was happening, Tomas suddenly appeared and he was yelling at you. Screaming at the man and chasing him away. He admits to following you and is grateful that he did, seeing how familiar you are with other men.
"Y-You were stalking me?" You suddenly yelled back. Hearing you say, Tomas realizes quickly how insane he was acting. His cheeks flush as his once confident form shrinks into an awkward one. "Oh gods, Y/n, I'm so sorry. I-" but before he can finish, you turn your back on him and you walk away, leaving him there all alone.
Weeks go by as you avoid him, you don't come home, and you don't speak Kuai either, it's like you disappeared off the face of the planet. These were some of the loneliest weeks Tomas has ever experienced in his life, he couldn't eat he could sleep, and he couldn't even build up the strength to get out of bed. What was even the point? Without you, life didn't have much meaning.
You finally build up the courage and come back home, hoping for some closure and to settle things. Tomas immediately swings open the door and ushers you inside. He is quick to start apologizing, he is in a desperate state. He even starts to break down and cry.
This pathetic display moves you, you admit that you missed him. You embrace each other and cry in each other's arms. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me," he begs.
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fatecantstopme · 1 month
Text
My Past, My Present, My Future
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Endverse!Dean x reader
Summary: You get dragged to the future along with Dean to witness the aftermath of the apocalypse. Follows the plot of "The End" (Season 4, Episode 4)
Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk.
A/N: If I tell you too much, it'll ruin the story...enjoy!
It had been 2009 when you and Dean had fallen asleep in a hotel in Kansas City. You were awoken by the sound of your boyfriend's voice muttering "What the hell?"
You opened your eyes to find yourself in a completely trashed room--it looked like an actual bomb had gone off. It took you a moment to realize it was the same room you'd fallen asleep in.
"Dean?" you asked in confusion.
He was staring out the window, so you joined him, the two of you now staring out a what remained of the city.
"What happened?" you whispered.
"I have no idea." He looked back at you, worry etched into his face. "We should get moving. See if we can find anyone else."
As the two of you walked through the city streets, you found yourselves completely alone--that is, until you came across a little girl crouched in an alleyway all alone.
As the little girl attacked Dean, you saw the word "Croatoan" painted on a brick wall. Dean defended himself, knocking the girl unconscious.
You simply pointed to the word, a look of dread on your face. Dean's gaze followed your finger and the same expression crossed his features.
"Shit," he muttered.
Suddenly, a group of infected people rounded the corner and spotted the two of you. You both took off running, desperate to avoid becoming their next meal.
"Dead end!" you yelled at Dean, but neither of you had time to figure out your next move. The infected people are still behind you when a heavily armed military unit opened fire on the group.
The commotion gave you and Dean the time you needed to escape. The two of you stayed hidden until nightfall. When you emerged, you noticed a sign on the fence surrounding the entrance to the city.
"Dean," you said softly, pointing to the sign. "Croatoan Hot Zone."
He stepped forward to get a better look. "August 1st, 2014? How...?"
"Great," you muttered. "So we're in the future."
"Apparently...and it ain't pretty."
You shared a look and muttered "Angels," in unison.
You managed to find an abandoned car that still had gas, so Dean hot-wired it and the two of you sped off. You were desperately trying to find a cell signal or even a radio signal when Zachariah made an appearance in the backseat of the car.
"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean growled.
In response, Zachariah simply began to read a Newspaper he'd brought with him. The headlines were dark, detailing some of the terrible events that had occurred in this morbid future.
"How the hell did you find us?" Dean asked in annoyance.
"Human informants from some of the fringier religious groups," Zachariah answered.
"That guy on the street last night," you said to Dean, who nodded.
"Send us back. Now," Dean demanded.
"No can do. The two of you are staying put in 2014 for a few days so you can see exactly what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael."
"You're an ass," you muttered.
Dean smirked a little. "As much as I love having (Y/N/N) as my copilot, why'd you have to drag her into this?"
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Zachariah said with a wave of his hand. "She's here because she might be the only person who can convince you to do the right thing. She needs to see just how bad it gets almost as much as you need to."
Before either you or Dean could respond, Zachariah disappeared, zapping himself back to wherever the hell he hung out.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate angels?" you mumbled under your breath.
Dean simply nodded. "Me too, sweetheart."
"Where we headed?"
"Bobby's."
You kept your thoughts to yourself. Dean didn't need you to tell him it was unlikely Bobby had survived this, especially being wheelchair-bound. He wasn't a fool, but you knew it was better to let him have just a little bit of hope.
**********
As expected, Bobby's house was empty, save for his wheelchair and an absolute mess of junk. Dean was silent as he surveyed the room, putting the wheelchair back upright with a sad sigh.
He went to the mantel behind Bobby's desk and pried it open, pulling out Bobby's old journal. In it, he found a picture of several men with shotguns posing in front of a sign for Camp Chitaqua, Bobby and Cas among them.
He held the picture up for you to see and you exhaled softly. "Road trip?"
He nodded and the two of you headed for the camp. You managed to sneak past the guards, but as you were making your way farther into the camp, Dean grabbed your arm.
You followed his gaze and realized his once-beautiful Impala was parked off to the side completely junked out.
"Oh not you too, Baby," he whispered as he leaned forward to inspect the car.
You would have laughed if you hadn't been staring down the barrel of your own future.
"Dean--" the rest of your sentence was silenced as you fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by someone behind you.
The man was fast enough that both you and Dean were unconscious without a single sound.
When your eyes fluttered open some time later, you found yourself seated in a wooden chair, wrists gently bound to the arms. You saw Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, arms cuffed to a ladder bolted to the floor. He wasn't moving and you whispered his name in worry.
"So you're awake." Had you not been staring at Dean when you heard the voice, you would have been certain it had been him talking.
You looked around, jaw dropping as Dean stepped out from his place against the wall behind you. It was Dean, but it wasn't your Dean. His face looked a little more haggard and the light in his eyes was dimmed almost to extinction.
"Who--how--?" you tried to ask.
"I could ask you the same question."
You looked back over at Dean's unconscious form and the other Dean sighed.
"He'll be fine...as long as you answer some questions. I know neither of you are some kind of supernatural creature--trust me, I tried all the tests. But he carries every weapon on him that I do and well--there's a striking resemblance." He trailed off for a moment. "Then there's you...any chance you can explain why you look like my dead wife's identical twin?"
You were saved from responding by the sounds of your Dean stirring. "What the hell?" he muttered as he realized he was cuffed in place.
"Thanks for joining us," the other Dean stated. "I was just asking your friend here why you look like my doppelgänger. Care to share?"
Dean looked between you and the older version of himself and sighed slowly. "Probably because I am you--well, the you from 2009. And she's (Y/N) from 2009. We were dragged here to 2014 courtesy of Zachariah."
Future Dean nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. He always was a dick."
You smirked a little, appreciating that somethings never changed. However, your mind was still reeling from the words Future Dean had said to you mere seconds before your Dean had woken up...dead wife.
"As much as I'd like to believe you, I need to be sure." Future Dean crouched down in front of your Dean, eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me something only we would know."
Your Dean flicked his gaze to you for a moment before turning back to meet his own stare. "We were 19. Rhonda Hurley made us try on her satin panties. They were pink. And you know what? We kinda liked it."
You giggled lightly at his admission and Future Dean cracked a small smile and muttered, "Touché."
Future Dean stood back up, turning his attention to you. You were surprised to see the sadness in his green eyes--a look you'd only ever seen once before.
"You haven't looked at me like that since Jo and Ellen died," you said softly.
Future Dean grimaced. "A lot has happened in the past five years, (Y/N). I carry a hell of a lot more weight than I did in 2009."
You waited for him to continue, as you knew he would.
"A lot of shit happened--really bad shit. The apocalypse, demons, releasing the Croatoan virus...we lost a lot of good people, people I cared about." He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Three years ago, a small team of us tried to infiltrate a demon lair in an attempt to get Lucifer's location. I led one team, (Y/N) led the other. I don't know how, but they knew we were coming. I couldn't get my whole team out, but (Y/N)--she-she fought until the very end. She made certain her whole team made it out of there alive."
Your breath caught in your chest as you let his words sink in. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. Your Dean let out a soft pained sound and you felt the strong urge to go to him, but the ropes around your wrists held you in place.
Future Dean continued, "When I found out they'd left her behind, I went back...the demons had already cleared out, having gotten what they wanted. I found her..." He trailed off, gaze finally raising to meet yours. "I found you...broken and bleeding. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I carried you back home and I built your pyre. I wouldn't let anyone else near you. I lost something that day I could never replace, and it changed me forever."
"Dean," you whispered softly. Tears filled your (y/e/c) eyes as you stared into his mossy green ones. "I'm so sorry."
He almost laughed at your response. "I just told you that you die because of me and you're the one who's sorry?" He let out a pained chuckle. "You always did love me more than I deserved."
Your expression was soft and your smile even softer. "I don't blame you. It doesn't matter why or how it happened--it wasn't your fault. I make my own choices, as you well know. So if I chose to stay behind to save other people, then that was my decision and the consequences are for me to bear."
He closed his eyes for a few moments, allowing your words to wash over him. He'd never even imagined he would have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, let alone see your smile, or hear your laugh. He felt his armor crack just enough that a sliver of the Dean you had always loved shone through. It terrified him, your ability to affect him even now, but he knew his love for you had never dimmed and never would.
"What about Sam?" your Dean asked, breaking the silence.
"There was a heavy weight showdown in Detroit a few years back. From what I heard, Sam didn't make it out."
"From what you heard?" Dean asked in shock. "You mean you weren't with him?"
"We hadn't spoken since 2009."
You had your own opinions on Dean's decision to part ways with Sam and you'd been very vocal about it. You could tell by your Dean's expression that he was shocked and guilty about how that decision had played out.
Future Dean turned his gaze to you and you saw the same regret in his eyes that you'd seen in your Dean's. But something about his expression and the intensity of his gaze made you wonder if he was regretting the same thing as your Dean.
Future Dean exhaled slowly and averted his eyes again, pulling his invisible mask back down. "I have a mission, so I have to go. The two of you are going to stay here for the time being. I can't have the younger version of me running around the camp and there are quite a few people here that remember you, (Y/N). So stay here and don't cause any trouble."
You shot a look to your Dean who grumbled something about being left chained up. Future Dean gave you one last sad look before going out the door and leaving you two behind.
"How long until you get yourself out of those cuffs?" you teased softly.
"How long until you squeeze your hands out of that rope future me barely tied?" Dean sniped back.
You smiled and shifted your left hand so you could grab ahold of the knot Future Dean had tied. It took you less than 10 seconds to get it untied and even fewer to release your other hand.
Dean shot you a grin. "That's my girl."
You rolled your eyes, scanning the room for something to pick the handcuff lock with. "You're the one who didn't tie them tightly."
"Future me," he emphasized. "Clearly he's got a soft spot for you."
You smirked. "So do you." Your eyes landed on a small pen knife sitting on the table. You grabbed it, holding it up for him to see.
His eyes sparkled with several different emotions and you knew he was reeling from everything you'd just learned. Hell, you were busy compartmentalizing all of your emotions so you didn't fall apart.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."
You offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to his level and picking the lock on his cuffs with the pen knife. As soon as he was free, you helped him to his feet.
"Okay, I'm gonna go have a look around," he said. "You stay here."
"Dean--" you started to protest.
"Hey, it's not like I don't want you with me, but you heard what future me said...there are people here who will recognize you--people who know you're dead."
You sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. Why don't you go first, make sure it's clear, then I'll follow you."
Dean glared at you for a long moment, before his expression softened. He knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. "Alright. Just stay out of sight, okay? I don't need one of these trigger-happy yahoos shooting you because they think you're a monster or something."
You nodded your agreement and Dean slowly opened the door to the cabin. You stay inside until he beckoned you to join him. You stayed close to the edge of the cabin as you waited for him to gesture for you to follow.
Just as Dean rounded the corner, Chuck Shirley stepped directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. You stayed back, back pressed against the side of the cabin.
"Uh, hey there Chuck," Dean said.
Chuck started to ask him about what they should do about a shortage of perishable items and hygiene products before realizing Dean was supposed to be out on a mission.
"Yeah, I-uh-I was gonna head out now," Dean lied.
Suddenly, a woman crossed into your field of vision and swung a punch and a kick at Dean. He jumped back and grabbed Chuck, pulling him in-between himself and the angry woman.
Your instincts screamed for you to help him, but you knew you needed to stay hidden. You listened as the woman, Risa, yelled at Dean for spending the night in another woman's cabin the night before.
"You said we had a connection," she snapped.
You almost laughed at that--it was exactly the kind of thing Dean would say to a woman to appease her.
You watched as Risa angrily stomped away and Dean exhaled in relief. He quickly asked Chuck if Cas is around and he gestured to a cabin close by. "I don't think he's going anywhere," Chuck said lightly as he walked off.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dean's gaze landed on you and he waved at you to follow him. You followed closely behind as he entered the cabin, staying just out of sight of anyone inside.
You could hear Cas's voice, but it sounded different than you remembered it being--softer and maybe even lazier than before.
He must have spotted Dean because you heard him acknowledge him as their "fearless leader". You heard Cas tell the women in the room to wash up and prepare for the orgy.
A group of girls walked by you and Dean as you both step into the room.
"Orgy?" Dean asked incredulously.
Castiel simply shrugged as he regarded both of you. "(Y/N)," he murmured quietly. "This is a surprise."
You sighed. "I'd imagine so. I hear I'm dead."
"Indeed you are." Castiel's gaze landed on Dean. "And you're not the Dean of this time. When are the two of you from?"
"2009," you answered.
"Zachariah sent us here," Dean added.
"Ahh," Cas mumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"Okay, so nice to see you and all that, but can you zap us back please?" Dean asked.
Cas giggled slightly and Dean's gaze narrowed in annoyance.
"Dude, are you stoned?"
"Generally, yeah," Cas replied.
Dean looked over at you, but you were just as surprised as he was. You shrugged and Dean let out a quiet groan.
"I don't have powers anymore," Cas said simply. "When the end came, the angels just left...bored with their playthings, I guess. When they left, so did my powers."
"Oh great," Dean muttered.
"Dean," you said in a warning tone. "Don't."
Cas smiled at you and crossed the room to give you a hug. You were a little surprised, but you returned the gesture.
"It's good to see you, (Y/N). You were always the only person who could keep Dean in line."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you at his words. "We've had the pleasure of meeting the Dean of this time. I imagine he's not exactly one to defer to anyone."
For a moment Castiel's expression grew wistful, as if remembering a better time. "He used to, but he changed rather significantly when you died. It's been three years and he still hasn't gotten over your death. He's not the same Dean you knew."
You glanced at your Dean and exhaled softly. "Knowing him, he's just hid that part of himself so far down he's forgotten it even exists."
Dean's gaze met yours and you knew you were right. You could see it is eyes--he knew exactly what losing you would do to him. He knew the kind of man he would become.
Cas glanced back and forth between the two of you and shook his head. "You always could read each other's minds. It's nice to see that again. But I am curious, how did our Dean handle meeting the two of you?"
"Not well," you admitted.
"Pretty sure he was happier to see you than he was to see me," Dean muttered.
You chuckled mildly. "Well I'm the dead one, so it seems fitting."
Dean winced and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile at you, but the pain in his gaze ensured the expression didn't meet his eyes.
Before any of you could utter another word, the sound of trucks pulling up sounded from outside the cabin. You let Dean walk out first, followed by Cas. You opted to remain in the shadows just inside the doorway. You could see what was happening outside without being noticed.
You saw Future Dean getting out of one of the trucks and tossing a beer to another man. They cracked them open and the other man turned his back on Dean.
You watched in horror as Future Dean raised his pistol, pointing it at the man's back. Your Dean ran out, yelling for him to stop, but it was too late. Future Dean pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground.
Future Dean whirled around, coming face to face with your Dean, eyes full of anger. As Dean began to argue with Future Dean, you ran out in an attempt to calm both men. Castiel grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
The gasps and shocked faces of the people around you reminded of you of the position you'd just put yourself in. Most people were staring at your Dean in confusion, but several gazes had landed on you. You recognized a few of the faces and you knew in your heart these people had known you--the other you.
Future Dean gestured to your Dean and said, "Me and him--it's messed up, okay? But if you need to know something, then I'll tell you when you need to know it."
As Future Dean glanced around, he noticed some people were not looking at him--or at his doppelgänger. He followed one person's gaze and his body froze when his eyes landed on you. Even though he'd known you were here, it was still painfully jarring to see you.
What was worse, was he wasn't sure how to explain your presence--too many people had known you. A few of them had been there when you'd died.
You locked eyes with Future Dean and your heart ached for him. You could see the turmoil in his eyes and the difficulty he was having formulating any kind of words to address your presence. He might not be your Dean, but you still loved him--after all, he was the man your Dean would one day become.
You stepped forward, gently pulling yourself from Castiel's grasp. "Dean," you whispered softly, sad eyes meeting his.
"Some of you might remember my wife, (Y/N)," Future Dean said calmly. "I'm not prepared to explain her presence to all of you, but just know that she's not here to cause any harm."
His statement seemed to appease most of the small gathering, but you saw some darker expressions cross the faces of a few people in the crowd.
Future Dean stepped forward and grabbed your Dean by the jacket, practically dragging him towards his cabin. His gaze landed on you and he gestured for you to follow.
"Didn't I tell both of you to stay put?" he growled as he closed the door behind him.
Your Dean began to argue, but he was silenced by Future Dean's anger.
"He was infected, okay? I've been doing this a long time and you learn to see the signs. I did what I had to do."
"We know that," you said softly.
Both men looked at you in surprise, but your gaze was firmly on Future Dean's face. You wanted him to know you understood--you weren't even sure why.
"You didn't need to kill him in front of everyone," your Dean commented.
Future Dean's gaze cut to him like a blade. "Yeah because seeing my freaking clone and my dead wife was so much better."
Your Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Future Dean cut him off.
"The last thing these people need is to see me arguing with you, okay? They're twitchy survivors who can't handle this. This is my time, not yours, so stay in your lane."
Dean backed off, realizing Future Dean was right. He was nothing more than an observer in this time and he needed to act like it.
Future Dean pulled out three glasses and poured a drink for each of you. Your eyes scaned his face, keen senses picking up on the emotions clearly stirring beneath the calm surface. You wanted to talk to him, get him to open up, but you knew this wasn't the time.
"So what was the mission for?" you asked gently.
Future Dean gave you an appreciative look. "Five years of searching--five long years and I finally found it." He pulled something out of his jacket and laid it on the table. "The Colt."
"How?" your Dean asked in surprise.
"Demons have been moving it around for years, but we finally got good intel on its location."
You felt uneasy as you regarded him. You couldn't read him as well as you could your Dean, but you knew he was thinking about something--something you weren't going to like. "What's your plan?" you asked warily.
"Tomorrow night," he said, dark gaze fixed on your face, "I'm gonna kill the devil."
Shock lit up both your's and your Dean's faces. "We have no idea if the Colt's gonna work!" you protested, fear lacing your voice.
"It's our only shot and I'm gonna take it," he countered.
You glanced at your Dean and you could tell he didn't like the sound of this plan any more than you did. Sure, you both wanted to find the Colt in your time and kill the devil so none of this would happen, but there was no way to know if it would work. No one had ever tried it on an archangel before.
"Can I speak to my wife alone for a moment?" Future Dean asked, further shocking you both.
"I, uhh--" you stuttered.
Your Dean looked at you sympathetically, a sad expression settling onto his face. You knew what the look meant, so you weren't surprised to hear him agree. He stepped outside, leaving you and Future Dean alone.
"You know it's hard for me," he began, "seeing you after all this time."
"It's not easy on me either," you admitted, "seeing the man you become...and knowing I'm not going to be with you much longer."
He looked down in shame. "I know I'm not the man you love." He gestured to where your Dean stood outside. "I'm not him. But I have never stopped loving you--never stoped missing you."
You closed your eyes for a moment. "I know. I can feel it."
"I knew you would," he said softly. "I'm sure knowing what the future has in store for both of us isn't something you'd expected to see."
You shook your head. "I certainly didn't expect to hear you call me 'your wife'."
A small smirk played across his lips. "You get your priorities straight when the world is about to end. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."
You smiled slowly, but your heart ached too much to continue this train of discussion. "So why did you want to speak alone?"
He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to talk to you without him around to persuade you otherwise."
"Persuade me to do what, exactly?"
His gaze was intense as he stepped towards you. If you didn't know him, it would have frightened you. "When you go back to 2009, I want you to pack up your things and leave. Leave me as far behind as you can--run and never look back."
A mixture of shock and sorrow darkened your features. "I-I can't do that."
He reached out and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "You have to, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "It's the only way I can keep you safe--alive."
You shook your head. "I can't leave you."
He caressed your cheek gently, his calloused hands molding perfectly to your face. "I need you to do this for me, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy and I-he won't understand, but it's for the best. He'll realize it in the end."
"Marrying me was the best thing you've ever done, but you want to deny yourself that joy? Deny me?"
"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than watch you die again. It almost killed me, (Y/N). Hell, in a way it kinda did. I'm not that man anymore, and I don't want that for him."
You touched his face gently, fingers grazing against the rough stubble on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know. I can see him in you. You might be older, damaged in ways I can't understand, but the man I love lives in you. You and I both know Dean is going to tell me the same thing when we get back to 2009. It will break his heart, but he will beg me to leave if there's even a remote chance it will save my life."
His expression told you exactly how right you were.
"Looks like you haven't changed all that much--at least not in the ways that matter."
A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he was quick to hide it. He loved you so much it hurt and he knew there was no hope for him. He had to believe that the Dean from 2009 would heal from losing you, especially if it meant you got to live.
"Sometimes, I'll lie awake at night and stare at your picture--talk to it, even. I dream of you often and it breaks my heart every time I wake up to find you're not there. I miss you with every part of my tattered soul."
"Dean..." you whispered, leaning into him.
"I know you don't love me, but I need you to know how deeply I love you, even now. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand, (Y/N). You always have."
You stood on your tip-toes and brushed your lips across his cheek. "You are him," you whispered lowly. "I love him, so I love you. Five years of hell on earth doesn't change that."
Tears filled his eyes and he pulled you tightly against him. He never wanted to let you go, no matter what the cost. He felt conflicted about loving you so much, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that the 2009 version of himself would understand.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before settling his chin down against it. He loved the way you fit in his arms, as if you were made for them. He wanted you so badly it hurt--an ache so deep in his bones he knew he would never be rid of it.
It took all of his strength--all his willpower--to pull away, releasing you and taking a step back.
You looked up at him with compassionate (y/e/c) eyes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, heal his pain. You hadn't been lying when you said you loved him. You could feel the man you loved beneath the hardened exterior, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.
Your eyes scanned his face again, but he couldn't meet your gaze. You knew his body ached for your touch--you knew because your Dean had always been that way. It had been three years since Future Dean had felt your body against his, so you knew exactly how much it was killing him.
You sighed, glancing out the little window at the front of the cabin. Your Dean stood out there, shoulders set in that stern way you were used to seeing. Your heart ached for him--you knew it was hard for him to be in this situation. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and you knew he felt the same. Seeing the way his future self looked at you likely made him contemplate things he shouldn't have had to bear.
"Stay here," you whispered to Future Dean. You stepped past him, heading for the door.
Future Dean watched as you exited, eyes fixated on the way you moved--desperately trying to commit every inch of you to memory.
"Hey," your Dean said softly as you stepped outside. "You okay?"
"Not really," you admitted. "You?"
He gave you a sad smile and shook his head. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"I know."
"No, sweetheart, I don't think you do," he said gently, but firmly. "You have an idea, sure, but you don't know--not the way I do. I can see it on his face--on my face. The way he misses you, the love he so clearly feels for you...the emptiness inside of him only you can fill. I know all of those feelings, (Y/N). I can't even fathom the pain of losing you. It hurts to even think about."
You touched his arm gently and he leaned into the touch as if on instinct.
"I know what he's feeling, even if I can't fully experience it myself. I know the devastation I would feel if I lost you--I don't think I'd ever fully recover. Add to that all the loss he's experienced in the last five years and I can understand why he's the way he is. I see myself in him...and I can see myself becoming him."
Dean turned his full attention to you and his next words shocked you to your very core.
"He needs you, (Y/N). I have a bad feeling about tomorrow night and I think you might be the only thing that stops him from doing something reckless. It pains me to say this--to give you up, even for a moment, but he needs you. I know it might feel weird, wrong even, but he's me...and I get him, more than I'd care to admit."
Your lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can do that, Dean."
He touched your face gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "He's me, (Y/N)...and he needs you. You're his wife, after all. So go."
Your eyes scanned his face for any sign of discomfort, but you only saw sadness. Part of you hated this idea, but the other part knew he was right. You'd felt it when you'd been with Future Dean--felt his need for you so strongly it nearly overwhelmed you.
"I love you," you whispered.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you too."
He nodded towards the cabin and gave you a soft smile. You stepped away, knowing you were about to do something that felt both incredibly wrong and incredibly right at the same time.
"Where will you go?"
"I'll hang out with Cas. Don't worry about me, baby."
You nodded and watched him walk away towards Castiel's cabin. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself before turning to the door in front of you.
Future Dean seemed almost surprised to see you as you stepped back into the cabin.
"Hi," you murmured.
"Hey."
"I can't walk away," you whispered. "Not when you're in so much pain."
He looked at you in confusion, unsure of what you were trying to tell him.
You were typically so good with words, but whatever skill you normally had failed you as you looked into his haunted green eyes. There was no way for you to fully understand the emotions he was feeling, no words to explain how desperately you wanted to heal even the smallest fraction of his soul.
You crossed the short distance between you, practically crashing into him as you grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled him down to you. The kiss surprised him, but he was in no position to pull away--wrong or not, he craved you like a drowning man in need of air.
His arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if you were both engulfed in flames, every sensation burning you both--scarring you in a way neither of you would ever heal from.
His hands traveled down your back, slipping under your ass to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips never leaving his.
He carried you to a small room at the back of the cabin and laid you down as gently as he could onto the mattress. There was no bed--simply a mattress on the floor, but there were blankets and a couple pillows, just enough to be comfortable.
Your hands slid inside his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders forcefully. His lips didn't leave yours as he tugged it off and tossed it out of the way. You pulled on his henley, silently begging him to take it off too, a request he immediately complied with.
He had to pull away from you just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, but the action was enough to ground him. As he gazed down at you, his heart clenched in his chest. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes full of love and adoration--an expression he'd missed desperately.
"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.
Your expression softened slightly, realizing the pain he was feeling--the mixed emotions racing through his veins. "I love you too, Dean. Don't question that for a second."
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the palm of your hand as you reached up to cup his cheek.
"Get out of your head, baby," you murmured. "Focus on me--on this moment--nothing else."
His eyes slowly opened, gaze landing on your face. You began to blush beneath him, his hungry expression heating you from the inside out.
"You're wearing far too much clothing for my taste," he teased, voice low and throaty.
You smirked. "I know you like to rip my clothes off, but these are my only ones--so be gentle."
He groaned, just like you knew he would. Dean was notorious for literally ripping your clothes--he'd ruined more shirts and pants than you cared to admit...not to mention most of your undergarments.
"How 'bout we make a deal?" he murmured.
You hummed in response, so he continued.
"I'll promise not to rip your pants or your underwear, if you're willing to forfeit your shirt."
You looked up at him in surprise. "I don't have another shirt, Dean."
He grinned wolfishly. "But I do."
Realization crossed your features, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. Before you could respond, he gripped your shirt in his strong hands and tore it right in half, revealing your heaving chest.
"Dean!" you admonished in surprise.
"Sorry, baby--I couldn't wait any longer. You know how impatient I get."
As if to emphasize his impatience, he lowered his mouth to your chest, tugging the cups of your bra down to expose your soft breasts. He groaned loudly before burying his face between them, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh.
You moaned softly, fingers of one hand tangling in the short locks at the base of his skull. Your other hand slipped down his broad back feeling the heated skin beneath the tips of your fingers.
You felt unfamiliar scars, which nearly brought tears to your eyes. You hated the idea of him being hurt--especially if you weren't there to care for him as he healed.
Dean sensed your shift in demeanor and he lifted his head to observe your face. "You okay, baby?"
His soft words brought you back to the present and you offered him a small smile. "New scars," you whispered.
You didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. He could read you just as well as you could read him. "You were there for most of them," he murmured gently.
You relaxed slightly and he sighed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You know me too well," you remarked.
"You're the love of my life, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing I don't know about you."
Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you desperately pushed the welling emotions down, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. "I need you, Dean," you whispered. "Desperately."
He had never been one to deny you, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, his own need was slowly becoming unbearable.
"I'm right here, baby. I'll make you feel so good--I promise."
He wasted no time in removing the rest of your clothing and his own. He wanted to take his time, really feel you, but he knew time was the one thing neither of you had.
"I need to taste you," he whispered into your ear before beginning his descent to your aching pussy.
Some things may have changed in the last five years, but Dean's skills in the bedroom hadn't. The things he could do with his mouth should have been categorized as a crime--his ability to have you screaming and shaking within minutes was still a shock after all this time.
He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted to his touch, the pretty sounds you made as he feasted on you. There wasn't a damn thing he didn't love about you, but he had to admit this was in the top five things he missed most about you. The way your body melded with his--two souls intertwining in the most fundamental way, the overwhelming pleasure he could only find in your arms...he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't dreamed of it often in the last three years.
Your nails dug into his biceps as you desperately clung to any part of him you could reach. Your orgasm swept over you seconds later, pulling moans and whimpers from your throat as he continued his assault.
Dean ignored the tugs on his hair, instead holding your hips even more firmly against the mattress as he continued to eat your pussy hungrily. It took mere moments for your whimpers to once again turn to heavy moans of need--your voice hoarse from begging him to keep going.
When your second orgasm crashed into you, your legs shook almost violently against his head, thighs threatening to crush him. He couldn't have been bothered to care--had you actually crushed him in that moment, he would have died a happy man.
He finally relented when you began begging him to give you a moment--just one moment to breathe. He lifted himself up to hover over you, licking his lips happily as he gazed down at you.
"You seem pleased with yourself," you said breathlessly.
"Oh I am." The pride he was feeling practically oozed from his pores. Nothing stroked his ego like making you fall apart over and over again.
You ran your hands up and down his arms in a gentle, soothing manner. He'd always loved the way you touched him--the sweet, loving action something he hadn't been used to before you.
"I love you," he whispered.
You met his gaze and smiled. "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
The reply stunned him into a motionless silence. It had been years since he'd heard those words from your lips--he never thought he would be lucky enough to hear them again. In that moment, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, torn apart, and put back together...it hurt like hell, but he wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.
You noticed the change in him and you worried you'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't apologize," he said immediately. "I just...I haven't heard those words in years and--well, it hit me harder than I thought it would. That was, umm--" he sighed heavily. "It was the last thing you said to me before you died."
His voice was a gravelly whisper, filled with unimaginable pain, and it nearly broke your heart in two. "Dean..." you murmured.
"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words again--to hear your sweet voice remind me how much you love me. I missed you, sweetheart."
You couldn't have known how he'd react to your statement--hell, you hadn't even thought about it...the words just poured from your mouth like they had countless times before. It didn't matter what year he was from--you loved Dean Winchester with a kind of endless passion that would outlive Death himself.
You knew this experience would change you in ways you couldn't yet comprehend, but you wouldn't change it for anything. At the end of the day, this was Dean, and there was nothing you wouldn't do for him--nothing.
"Make love to me, Dean," you whispered lovingly, eyes bright with desire.
"I could never deny you, (Y/N/N)," he said sweetly. "I won't start now."
He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you back into the warm embrace you craved. As the kiss progressed, your bodies became more entangled, until it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. It was a feeling you'd only ever felt with Dean, and one you couldn't have explained even if you tried.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke the kiss, breathing deeply. "I can't hold back any longer. I need you more than I need to breathe, (Y/N)."
"I'm yours, Dean."
The simple act of giving yourself over to him completely had him wanting to do nothing but worship you until the sun came up again.
He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink--your body was calling to him and he answered it gladly. In one single thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, eliciting sharp groans from you both.
"Fuck, sweetheart--I forgot how incredible you feel," he whispered against your heated skin.
You were breathless and aching, the desire for him to ruin you so overwhelming you couldn't think of anything else. "Move," you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
His body mindlessly responded to your pleas, hips setting an almost brutal pace. You both needed this--needed the release that could only come from each other.
You clung to him and he to you, the room filling with the salacious sounds of wet skin against skin and moans of endless pleasure.
"I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, baby," he groaned. "I fucking missed them so much."
"You feel so good, Dean," you gasped.
"So do you, sweetheart."
And fuck did you feel incredible. He loved you so much and you felt it in every single movement his body made. You hoped he could feel just how much you loved him in return.
"You're the only woman who could ever make me feel like this," he whispered.
You knew exactly what he meant--what he was trying to say. Sex had always been different with you. It had always felt more incredible than with anyone else he'd ever been with. The profound bound the two of you shared made everything better--even sex.
"I never want you to stop," you murmured. "It feels so good."
"Shit," he groaned, your words having more of an affect on him then he'd expected. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum."
"That's what I want, Dean. Want you to fill me up."
He practically growled as he bit down on your collar bone, hips slowing as he tried to regain his composure. "Need you to cum first," he begged.
You rolled your hips against his in response and the sensations he was experiencing snapped whatever remained of his self-control. He grabbed your legs and tugged them flush against his chest and began to pound into you recklessly.
His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your open mouth. Your hands grasped at the blankets beneath you, struggling desperately to find purchase anywhere.
He knew he could get you over the edge this way--he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. Within a few short minutes, your cries of pleasure turned to screams of his name as one of the most intense orgasms of your life hit you like a tsunami.
Before you could come down from your high, Dean found his own, releasing his seed into your pussy. The contractions of your walls around him milked every last drop of cum from him before he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied.
Your arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him tightly against you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest and you were certain he could feel yours. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in the arms of the person you love most.
"You're amazing, (Y/N)," he whispered into your neck.
"As are you," you mumbled, pressing your lips into his hair.
He held you almost as tightly as you were holding him and you knew he didn't want to ever let go. Your heart ached for the man in your arms just as much as it ached for the man currently sitting in Castiel's cabin.
Love was the most complicated emotion there was, but this far surpassed any normal situation. Dean Winchester was the love of your life in any time period--past, present, or future. You hated seeing the man you loved in pain and seeing two of him in pain complicated matters beyond belief.
"Where's your head at?" he asked softly.
You chuckled lightly--he really did know you better than anyone else.
"Just thinking about this messed up situation we've found ourselves in."
He sighed quietly. "Don't think on it too much, sweetheart. Zachariah will send you back tomorrow and everything will go back to normal."
"Except for the part where both present and future versions of you want me to leave..."
He lifted his head slowly. "It's too late for me...I'm too far gone, too deeply and madly in love with you to ever push you away. But the Dean from 2009? Yeah he loves you more than he's ever loved another person in his life, but he'll learn to live without you. He has to. Otherwise he'll wake up one day in 2011 without you and he'll feel the way that I do. He'll be forced to live with a hole in his chest that no human being could ever fill, and it'll change him, (Y/N). It'll break him."
Tears streamed down your face as you listened to his words. You knew they were true--knew it was how he was feeling, how he'd felt for years. You didn't want your Dean to feel that pain, but you knew deep in your heart you couldn't walk away. There was no timeline where you could turn your back on the one person that made life worth living...but this Dean didn't need to know that.
"No more talking," you said softly. "Let's just sleep a while."
He nodded and rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. You giggled softly as you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms.
**********
You awoke to the sound of knocking on the door of the cabin. You felt Dean stir beside you, a grumble of annoyance slipping past his lips. You smiled a little at his moodiness--it was nice to see some things never changed.
You pulled yourself up and got dressed quickly, grabbing a clean henley from the small pile of clothes in the corner. It was much too big on you, but it was all you had thanks to Dean's impatience.
You opened the door of the cabin and found a somewhat sheepish looking Castiel standing on the other side.
"Is, uh, is Dean awake?"
"He mumbled something rather rude when I tried to wake him up, so I let him sleep."
Cas chuckled. "Sounds about right."
"I can wake him if you need him."
Cas looked like he wanted to say no, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We need to start planning for tomorrow if we want this to work. People are starting to talk."
You sighed. "I'll get him up."
You stepped back, leaving the door open as an invitation for Cas to come inside. He chose not to, opting instead to wait on the porch while you went to wake Dean.
"Dean? Sweetheart?" you said gently. "You need to get up."
"Five more minutes," he grumbled.
You laughed and shook him a few times. "Come on, handsome. We've got work to do."
"Fine," he groaned. "Fine."
He sat up slowly, eyes dark with sleep. He looked up at you and you offered him a soft smile, which he instantly returned.
"You're so beautiful."
You blushed. "Get dressed before Cas comes in and sees your naked ass."
"He's probably seen it a couple times by now," he teased as he got up. "Now, where'd you put my pants?"
You laughed. "I think you threw them somewhere over there." You pointed to the other side of the room where a small pile of clothes laid.
He smirked slightly and crossed the room, grabbing his clothes and putting them on quickly.
"What's up, Cas?" he asked gruffly when he came into the main room.
"The team wants to know what's going down tomorrow and uh, past you says we need to start making a plan."
He shot you a look, but you simply shrugged. You weren't at all surprised your Dean wanted to make a plan. He didn't like this whole idea in the first place, so it made sense he would want some kind of plan in place.
"Fine. Gather the team and get them in here."
Cas went off to do as asked. The first person to arrive was your Dean. One look at his handsome face had you rushing to him and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your hair and sighed softly.
"I know this is a little awkward," you said quietly to both Deans as you stepped back.
"Not as much as you would think," your Dean responded.
Future Dean nodded, but remained quiet for a few moments. He fixed your Dean with an intense gaze even you couldn't quite read. "Thank you," he said so softly you almost missed it.
Your Dean nodded his understanding. You realized it really was different for the two of them than it was for you. They were the same man five years apart...they understood each other's thoughts and emotions in a way you never could.
Before you could say anything else, Cas returned with Risa and a couple other people in tow. Risa gave both Deans an odd look before turning her dark gaze to you. You couldn't read her expression, but you felt the jealousy coming off her in waves.
"Well this is about to be uncomfortable," you murmured to your Dean, who just chuckled.
Everyone sat down around the table except for both Deans and yourself. You stood beside your Dean, and you both stood slightly back to give yourselves room to observe everyone.
Risa glared at Future Dean so intensely it made everyone uncomfortable. He gave her a confused look and simply asked, "Why are you pissed at me?"
"Something about you having a connection, but then spending the night in another chick's cabin," your Dean quipped.
You snickered softly, as did Cas. Future Dean shot a glare your way, but you simply shrugged.
"Plus your dead wife is magically not dead, so yeah, I feel some kinda way," Risa grumbled.
"The (Y/N) some of you knew is dead. This one is from 2009--same as him," Future Dean said, gesturing to your Dean. "Now that we've got that out of the way, can we please focus?"
No one dared argue with him.
Future Dean launched into his spiel about killing the devil, revealing the Colt to the other people in the room.
"How do you know it's gonna work?" Risa asked skeptically.
"It's all we've got," Future Dean answered. "We got Lucifer's location from that demon we captured last week. We know where he's gonna be for the first time in years."
"The demon might have lied for all you know," Risa snapped.
"Trust me, he was honest."
Castiel leaned towards Risa. "Dean is very well-versed in the art of getting to the truth."
You inhaled sharply, immediately understanding Castiel's meaning. Your Dean stiffened beside you and you felt the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.
"Seriously? You went back to torture?" your Dean said angrily.
Future Dean looked at you, a resigned look of sadness on his face. You sighed and placed your hand on your Dean's arm and murmured, "Let it go, Dean."
He caught Future Dean's expression and fell silent again. There was no use arguing about his tactics now.
"Now," Future Dean said as he gestured to the map on the table. "We'll be heading in here."
"That's a hot zone," Cas said. "It's filled with Croats and demons--kinda reckless to just go barging in there don't you think?"
"Are you coming or not?" Future Dean asked, ignoring Cas's objections.
"Of course," Cas responded. "I've gotta ask though, why are they coming?" He nodded his head towards you and your Dean.
"I don't answer to you. Just know that they are coming."
Castiel put his hands up in surrender.
"Why don't you all go get supplies ready and recruit a couple more people," you suggested.
Future Dean nodded his agreement and the others left, leaving you and the Deans alone.
"Now why don't you try that again, but give an honest answer this time," you said sternly, eyes boring into Future Dean's face.
He sighed wearily. "I want you both to see what happened to Sam. Especially you." He pointed to the younger version of himself.
"What do you mean?" your Dean asked. "You said he died in Detroit."
"No, I didn't. I said he didn't make it out."
You exhaled sharply, heart nearly breaking as you realized what he was saying.
Future Dean fixed his gaze on you and you knew your assumption was correct. You instinctively reached out to your Dean in an attempt to ground him--you knew exactly how this information would affect him.
"What's going on?" your Dean asked, looking between you and his doppelgänger.
"He said yes," you whispered.
Future Dean nodded, but your Dean simply looked confused.
"The big yes," Future Dean said tiredly. "Lucifer wore him to the prom."
You gave your Dean a sad look. A flash of pain crossed his handsome features and your heart broke for him. You'd told him back in your time that he needed to forgive Sam--needed to mend their relationship. You didn't realize just how important that mending would be.
"He wouldn't do that," your Dean whispered.
You placed a comforting hand on his arm, but didn't bother to contradict him.
"Well he did," Future Dean snapped. "And when you go back, you need to say 'yes' to Michael. Immediately."
"Absolutely not!" you gasped.
Now it was Dean's turn to comfort you, his hand coming to rest on yours. "She's right. A showdown between Michael and Lucifer would torch half the planet."
"Half a planet is better than no planet," Future Dean insisted.
"If it's such a good idea, why didn't you say yes?" your Dean asked.
"Oh trust me, I tried. But by the time I was ready, the angels had given up and fucked off to wherever they are now."
"There has to be another way," your Dean whispered.
Future Dean fixed you with an expression that made everything clear to you.
"That's why you want me to leave," you began softly. "You know I would never approve of him saying yes to Michael. If I'm not around to influence him, then maybe he'll be foolish enough to say 'yes', right?"
Your Dean looked confused, but Future Dean held your gaze and you knew you were right.
"I really don't want you to die," he said gently. "But I also know exactly what you'll say...and I know the impact your words will have on my choices. Because I already made them."
"You told her to leave me?" your Dean asked slowly. "Even knowing what that'll do to me?"
"You'll both be better off."
"You don't get to make that call," you snapped.
Future Dean sighed and shook his head. "You'll both make your own decisions, but I just want you to have all the facts. Gear up. We move out in 20." With that he walked out the door, leaving you and your Dean alone.
"What if he's right?"
"About saying yes to Michael?" you asked in surprise.
Dean shook his head. "About it being better for you to leave."
You sighed quietly. "He's wrong...about all of it."
"I've seen what losing you did to me--to him...and I'm not sure that's something I can voluntarily experience."
You smiled. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never have to."
Dean returned the smile and pulled you in closely. "I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always."
**********
You were sitting in the backseat of the truck, listening to Cas tell your Dean about becoming human. It was weird for you to see Cas like this, hell he was driving. It was even harder to see how broken he had become and it only made you want to prevent this future even more.
You closed your eyes, desperate to fall asleep--to leave this fucked up, burned out world behind. You wanted to go home--to 2009. There was still time to change the future, to stop any of this from happening. You would give anything to stop it.
You must have fallen asleep because you were awoken by the gentle sound of your Dean's voice telling you it was time to wake up. You opened your eyes, surprised to see it was now light out.
"We're here, baby," he said softly.
You sighed deeply and nodded. You dragged yourself out of the truck and gathered your weapons along with the rest of the group. Your senses immediately told you something was off and one glance at your Dean told you he felt the same.
"Didn't you say this is a hot zone?" you asked Cas softly.
The former angel nodded.
"Then where are all the Croats?"
"Must be in another part of the city," he responded.
You and Dean exchanged a look, neither one of you believing his response.
Nevertheless, you followed the group, searching the rundown city for the building you were going to raid. When you found it, all of your hunter instincts screamed that something was wrong, but this time you weren't the first to voice it.
"Shouldn't there be a shit load of demons out here?" your Dean asked.
Future Dean shrugged. "They must all be inside."
His answer didn't satisfy you one bit, but you kept your mouth shut, choosing instead to observe him closely. The only person who knew Dean better than you was the man himself, which was proven moments later.
"Alright," Future Dean started. "You guys go in through the second story window. The three of us will sneak around back."
Risa looked more than a little concerned with the game plan. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She glanced over at Cas, who clearly agreed with her worry.
"Trust me, okay? They'll never see us coming," Future Dean assured them.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" your Dean said firmly, his words more a statement than a question.
Future Dean sighed, but stepped off to the side to speak with the two of you.
"You're lying to them," your Dean said lowly. "Don't deny it--I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror."
Future Dean sighed in annoyance and your Dean threatened to tell the team about his concerns, but Future Dean stopped him.
"I know it's a trap, alright? I'm not an idiot. They'll go in the front door and create a distraction while I sneak around the back."
"You're sacrificing your team?" you asked incredulously.
"They're your friends! And Cas? Come on, man--this isn't you," your Dean added.
"My inability to make the tough decisions is what got us here in the first place. Look around you--this is the end of everything," Future Dean growled. "It's my job to kill Lucifer and save what's left of this planet, so that's what I'm going to do."
"I can't let you do that," your Dean argued.
Instead of engaging in further discussion, Future Dean jabbed the butt of his gun into your Dean's head, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Dean!" you yelled, unsure if you were calling for yours or yelling at the Future version.
"I have to do this, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I need you to understand."
Tears welled in your eyes. "I understand why you believe that, but I don't agree. It's not who you are, Dean...the man I fell in love with would never sacrifice the people he loves--not for anything."
Future Dean looked down at the ground in silence. When he lifted his head again, his face was hard--a mask of non-emotion.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," he said firmly. "Stay with him and stay out of the way."
You wanted to reason with him, but you knew there was no point in trying. Yes, he was still Dean, but you knew you would never be able to change his mind. He'd made his choices and he'd had to live with them. Now, he was just trying to make up for all the mistakes he believed he'd made.
"Go," you whispered.
He nodded and moved back to join the others. You watched everyone but Dean head to the front of the building, a feeling of sorrow weighing on your heart.
"Dean," you called softly, prompting him to turn to look at you. "Don't die."
He gave you the smallest of smiles and nodded before running towards the back of the building.
You dropped to your knees and shook your Dean firmly. "Dean, wake up!"
After a few minutes, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Fuck," he mumbled.
"Hey!" You helped him into a sitting position. "You okay?"
"My head's killing me."
"He hit you pretty hard," you said gently.
The sound of gunfire urged him to his feet. "We gotta go."
You nodded and let him grab your hand as the two of you ran to the back of the building. You arrived to a terrifying scene--Future Dean was lying on the ground and a man in a white suit stood above him, his foot firmly on Dean's neck.
Future Dean made eye contact with you seconds before his neck snapped and the life left his face.
"No!" you screamed.
Your Dean grabbed you, pulling you back to keep you from rushing forward. Watching Dean die felt like having your own heart ripped out of your chest--it was a feeling you hoped you'd never have to relive.
The man turned around in surprise and your breath caught in your chest. Objectively, you'd known it was Lucifer--you'd known he'd be in Sam's body--but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person.
Dean instinctively pushed you behind him, putting his body protectively in front of yours.
"Dean, (Y/N)," Lucifer greeted calmly. "It's a surprise to see you here--especially since I killed you three years ago and well..." he looked down at Future Dean's body with a nonchalant shrug. "It must be a shock to see your brother like this."
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Dean asked angrily.
"Well that would be redundant. I'll kill your lovely wife three years before I kill you," he said simply. "We will always end up here, Dean. This is the way our story ends."
"Deep-frying the planet and murdering billions of people? What a shitty story," Dean snapped.
Lucifer started to rant about loving God too much and being punished for it...but you'd stopped listening. You could feel the pain rolling off your sweet Dean in waves. You knew what he was thinking--he'd failed his brother and in doing so, destroyed the world.
"I'm not falling for that sympathy-for-the-devil crap!" Dean yelled, pulling you back to the present. "The only difference between you and the monsters I've hunted my whole life is the size of your ego."
If the situation had been different, you probably would have laughed. Dean's fearlessness was something you both loved and admired about him. What's more, you agreed with his sentiment.
Lucifer simply smiled. "I like you, Dean. I can see what the other angels see in you." His gaze landed on you and you felt the rage boiling under your skin. "No hard feelings, (Y/N). Your death was a means to an end--it broke what little humanity your precious Dean had left in him. It's what led us to this moment."
Lucifer turned to walk away, but Dean called after him. "You better kill me now or I won't stop until I find a way to kill you."
Lucifer's smile was cruel. "I know you'll try Dean, but I also know you'll never say 'yes' to Michael, and you'll never kill Sam. No matter what choices you make or details you change, your wife will die in 2011 and you and I will always end up right here."
"You're wrong," Dean whispered, eyes filling with pained tears.
You touched his arm gently, reminding him he wasn't alone. He leaned into your touch, but remained steadfastly in front of you--guarding you with every ounce of strength he had.
"I'll see you in two years, (Y/N)," Lucifer said with a condescending smile. "And I'll see you in five, Dean."
Before either of you could say a word, Lucifer vanished, leaving the two of you alone.
"Dean..." you whispered softly.
He turned to you, his expression full of agony. You reached for him just as Zachariah appeared and placed a hand against each of your foreheads, zapping you back to the hotel room in Kansas City, circa 2009.
Both of you turned to face the offending angel, anger your primary emotion in the moment.
"Now you know what's going to happen," Zachariah said, cutting off any rant either of you could start. "Your only option is to say 'yes' to Michael, otherwise billions of people are going to die."
"How do we know that wasn't just another one of your tricks?" you snapped.
"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah stated. "Saying 'yes' to Michael is the only way you can save the world--save (Y/N)--save your brother.
Dean turned to you, his face full of anguish. It made your heart clench in your chest and you worried for a moment he'd changed his mind.
"Nah," Dean said to Zachariah, jaw set in a firm line.
You smirked a little, watching Zachariah's facial expression turn to shock.
"Are you telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"
"Oh I learned my lesson," Dean countered. "Just not the one you wanted to teach me."
Zachariah stepped towards Dean menacingly. You instinctively stepped forward, more than willing to fight the angel to protect the man you loved. Dean placed a gentle hand on yours to let you know he wasn't scared.
"I have you exactly where I want you," Zachariah began. "I'm going to teach both of you a lesson until you get it through your thick skulls. Neither of you are going anywhere until you say 'yes'."
Dean's grip on your hand tightened and his mouth opened to give some sort of retort when you suddenly found yourself standing on the side of a highway. Dean's hand was still wrapped tightly around yours and a slightly confused Castiel stood a few feet in front of you.
"Excellent timing, Cas," Dean said in relief.
"We had an appointment," Cas stated matter-of-factly.
You chuckled softly and stepped forward to wrap the angel in a hug. He was slightly surprised by your actions, but he didn't pull away.
Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder and offered him another smile. "Don't ever change."
You and Dean launched into the story of the last few days for you, and Castiel listened quietly.
"How did Zachariah find you?"
"Long story," Dean muttered. "But let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses in the future."
You chuckled again and rolled your eyes affectionately.
Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial a number.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked.
"Something I should have done in the first place."
You smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing...and who he was calling. You were proud of him and you voiced the sentiment as soon as you were alone.
"Thanks, babe. Turns out you were right all along."
You grinned. "I'm always right."
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." His voice was light and teasing and it warmed you straight down to your soul.
"I love you, you dork."
He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I love you too."
You were both quiet for several minutes, just watching the road as Dean sped towards your next destination.
"It's still the apocalypse," Dean said suddenly.
"Mhmm," you hummed quietly.
"So you know...the world might still end."
"Hopefully not."
"Agreed, but I'm thinking maybe we should get married."
"What?" you said in shock.
Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying...you're my everything and I want everyone to know you're mine. Besides, if this world really does end, there's no one I wanna be with but you."
"You know, normally the guy gets down on one knee."
Dean chuckled. "I can do that as soon as I stop the car."
You laughed. "Typically there's a ring too."
He grinned. "Don't worry baby--I'll buy you a big diamond ring."
You smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't really need a ring, Dean--and I don't need you to get down on one knee. If you're serious about it, then hell yeah--let's get married."
Dean looked at you hopefully. "I'm dead serious, babe."
You touched his cheek with a smile. "Then let's get married."
He looked at the straight stretch of road ahead, not a car in sight. He leaned over and kissed you quickly, the affectionate gesture expressing his emotions better than any words he could have said.
When he pulled back to face the road, you leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Your voice was low as you said the words that had become a mantra in your relationship, "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
His smile warmed your entire body--inside and out. It had been weird hearing Future Dean call you his wife...but your Dean proposing to you now, it just felt right.
You rode the rest of the way in a happier mood than you'd felt in a long time. Dean's mood was lighter too, but you both knew it wouldn't last. There was still a lot of darkness to come, but you were both determined to make sure there were happy moments. After all, love was one of the things that made life worth living.
A short time later, you sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching the man you loved apologize to his brother. You smiled warmly as you watched them, overjoyed at the steps they were both taking to make amends.
Dean turned towards you and waved you over. You hopped down and crossed the short distance, passing Dean to wrap Sam in a tight hug. The much larger man returned the gesture, the tension easing from his body.
"Glad to have you back, Sammy," you said as you stepped back.
"Thanks, (Y/N/N)."
"We're getting married," Dean said suddenly.
Sam's eyes widened in shock and you nearly laughed at Dean's sudden admission.
"End of the world and all that," Dean said sheepishly.
You chuckled and Sam expressed his congratulations.
"No matter what happens," you said softly. "We have each other--all three of us."
Both Winchesters nodded their agreement and Dean slipped his arm around you to pull you close.
"To hell with fate," Dean stated. "From now on, we make our own future."
You leaned into him with a smile, appreciating the sentiment more than you would have just a few days prior. At the end of the day, all you had was each other and the love that bonded all of you together. None of you knew exactly what the future held, but you'd be damned if you didn't fight for a future worth living for.
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emmyrosee · 1 month
Note
you asked for angst and I hate angst but imma give you some bc I love you.
It is widely accepted that the Miya twins dad is not in the picture. Mama Miya is a single mom and is worshipped by her twin boys. They always prioritize taking care of her bc "she's got no one else but us". Which is great, its one of the reason why you feel in love with your man. But it becomes a hindrance when he starts missing out on things important to you. Esp when their mom didn't even need them there at that moment.
Could work for either Osamu or Atsumu.
I hate my brain.
LIT RALLY HAD A PIECE SIMILAR TO THIS IN THE WORKS BUT I GOT TOO SCARED TO POST IT ABDBEJSBEEI SO THIS IS NOW MY OUTLET 😯🫶🏻
—-
The moon is high in the sky when Osamu finally comes home, your hands buried in the sink as you wash dishes that have been sitting there far too long.
You’d asked osamu to do it, but he hasn’t even been home to look at them. A phone call from his mother took him straight from work to her house almost two hours away, leaving you to your own thoughts and feelings.
You adored Ms. Miya. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was your feeling of neglect brewing in your chest, with each time he leaves you with no regard for your needs.
“Hey Angel,” he hums as he finally crosses over the threshold, toeing off his shoes and tossing his keys on the hook. He says nothing when you merely grunt back, but he does make his way over for a kiss.
You return his kiss, despite your own desires to not, you just wanted to be close to him again, feel his hands cradling your body and relight the love in your soul.
“How was your night?”
“Quiet,” you sigh. “Just… cleaning up from dinner.”
“Shit, you made dinner?” At that moment, his stomach growls, “I was so busy at Ma’s I didn’t get the chance to eat. Do we have leftovers?”
You nod sadly, “yeah. Help yourself.”
“…everything okay?”
“Peachy.”
He clears his throat and picks up a plate from the strainer, “are you sure…? these used to have a design on them.”
You scrub harder.
“Talk to me, baby. I don’t like us keeping secrets from each other.”
“We don’t have secrets. If you can’t use your cognitive thinking skills as to why the person you’re going to marry is mad at you, that’s not my problem.”
“Is this about today?” He asks, voice dropping in defeat.
“Usually is.”
“Baby, you know I-“
The plate snaps under the force of your scrubbing, but you don’t focus on that, though osamu’s brows shoot up.
“Your mother needs you, your mother comes first, your mother asked you, your mother this, your mother that, I KNOW, OSAMU!” You bark, wet fists balled angrily and teeth gritted sharply. “I know the damn drill!”
He takes a step back and raises his hands in surrender, but his brows are furrowed in worry, “hey… it’s okay-“
“It’s not okay!” You yell. Your hands come up to grip your chest, “what about when I need you? Hmm? Where’s my turn to be selfish and need you-“
“My mother is not selfish,” he growls. His brows furrow, “you damn know that.”
You roll your eyes, “no, she’s not. But I want to be. I want to be the big important thing in your life for once, I want to be the thing you run to; I want to be the one you drop everything for.”
“You are, but she needed me today, atsumu couldn’t make it-“
“Yeah, what was the big emergency today, huh? Problem with the internet? Phone bill? Fridge cleaning?”
He doesn’t say anything; merely scratches the back of his head, looking at you with tired eyes as if you’d done this dance far too many times. Which you had- but that’s not your fault.
“Tell you what,” you begin, using your wet hand to grab the engagement ring from the edge of the sink and grab his hand to put it in, “when you can give me more than 4 hours out of the day, you can propose to me again.”
He grips your hand sharply, and for a moment it snaps you back to reality for what you were saying, how venomous and toxic your words were, and your jaw slacks softly, “I… didn’t mean that-“
“We are not going to be this couple,” he snarls. “We are not going to weaponize our engagement when we get into fights. Understand?”
“It just came out-“
“Then keep it in. Do not question my love for you in such a meaningless fight. Do not give me the ring that I decided to give you back, sheerly because you’re mad at me. We’re not going to be a couple that threatens our love from each other. You know better than that.”
The room is silent, the only noise coming from the creaks of the house and osamu doesn’t let go of your hand. His eyes are firm but they shine with betrayal, and his Adams Apple bobs as he swallows thickly.
You sniffle under his intense gaze, “all I wanted was for you to come home,” you whimper. “I got a promotion at work. I cooked dinner, I bought a cake, I-I-I just wanted you to show up.” Your bottom lip wobbles as he simply nods at your words, encouraging you to speak up more if you need to. “I hate sharing you all the time. I want to be selfish and have you come home to me, and not have to wonder about when or if you’re going to come home because of how far away she lives.” He lets go of your hand to wipe a stream of tears that dribble from your eye.
“I just miss you, ‘samu…”
He takes a deep inhale in before pulling you in for a hug, cradling you close and letting you cry in his chest. “Thank you, for being honest,” he says softly, kissing your head. “It must be frustrating to have to share my attention, especially when you have something important to tell me.” He lets you cry it out for a few minutes, before squeezing you closer, “but you have to communicate with me. You have to tell me if you’re feeling neglected. I can’t be here if I don’t know, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sure you wanted to surprise me today, and I’m sorry that fell through.”
You nod in his chest, relishing in the smell of rice and cologne, mewling and squeezing him tighter.
“How about we take tomorrow off?” He hums, pulling back to cradle your cheek in his big hand. “We can celebrate your promotion, and be together, yeah?”
“W-What about the shop?” You whimper. “That’s more important-“
“No.” He pulls back and looks down firmly. “Don’t finish that sentence. The shop will be plenty fine for one day.” He smiles softly, “after all. Need to celebrate my baby’s big break.”
You give him a watery laugh before inching to be closer to him again, more than anything just glad to be in his vicinity after so long.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you whispered.
“Hmm… what was that?” He asks, cheekily.
Brat.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you repeat, this time with some giggles.
“One more time?”
“Osamu!”
He snickers and places a kiss on top of your head, “I’m so sorry I was busy with Ma all day. I didn’t think it would take that long.”
“What did she need?”
“Eh, she needed her oil changed and god knows atsumu’s not going to do that.”
You laugh against his chest and nod, “he’d never risk messing up his hair like that.”
“Never.”
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igotanidea · 9 months
Text
five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
Tumblr media
I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!
request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere
A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......
***
When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.
It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.
Well, if only the people could see him now.
Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.
He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.
As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.
“Dick……” she mutters
“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow
“Come on, I have get  up!”
“no you don’t.”
“I gotta get to work!”
“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke
“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”
“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”
She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!
“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.
You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.
“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.
Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.
“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.
“Not fair Grayson!”
“You called me fat.”
“I called you heavy!’
“Same thing!”
“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him
“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.
“I know. I’m irresistible.”
“A pain in the ass is what you are!”
“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts
“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”
“did you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”
“I used all my sick days because of you.”
“How about casual leave?”
“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”
“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.
“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”
“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”
“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”
“And?” he asks
“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze
“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.
“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”
Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.
“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.
“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”
“You act like a five year old!”
“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”
“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.
“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”
“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”
“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle
“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’
“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs
“Is there a cure?” she laughs back
“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”
“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”
“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”
“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“five more minutes?”
“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.
“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.
“Never.”
And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  
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missbunnybunny · 10 months
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❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣
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Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.
A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!
Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.
╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗ ▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. ╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝ Part 2 ↥
You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained and your staff adored you. When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire, you just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.
You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras. When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.
So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational. Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge. You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.
You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out. As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.
You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." His breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast. He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.
He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around. You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled. You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.
You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away. You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opens at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive. Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!" Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.
When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute." "Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine. "No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it. But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.
"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter. "Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.
As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back. He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron. "I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.
He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation. He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin. It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.
Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned. You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly. "Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.
You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try. It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion. You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train. "It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.
"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table. turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.
He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you." As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it. You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated. His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him. Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.
He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants. "This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate. He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch. When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.
He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers. "That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster. Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand. He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.
He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was. Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance. He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips. Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.
His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him. The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.
So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been. BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit. Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.
You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb. As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time. The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.
He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you. "Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure. The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect" James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.
After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms. Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.
Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯
Update there’s a new hole to hide now 🕳️ 👩🏽‍🦯
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backwzzds · 6 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ RORONOA ZORO AS A FATHER…
zoro would be one those fathers that most people assume would be terrible, but unsurprisingly, he’s very good with kids, as told canonically.
he’ll only have one daughter. he can’t handle anymore brats.
when your daughter was born, he’d bought up possibly naming her after his late childhood best friend. you knew how much she meant to him, so it was no problem making sure your daughter carried on her name, and hopefully her future dream. roronoa kuina.
lots of people assume zoro’s a strict dad, but most days, he’s pretty chilled back.
he came off as not having any interest in learning how to do kuina’s type 3-4 hair, but when you secretly caught him watching a youtube video as he practiced on one of your wig mannequins you knew he wanted to learn from the start
when kuina’s a toddler, you teach him how to do simple styles on her hair. to detangle from the bottom, always make sure her hair was moisturized, and just learn the small things about her. like how she was tenderheaded—something she inevitably inherited from you.
he’ll take her to get braids from the african aunties whenever you’re busy or stuck at work. kuina, already knowing the routine would sit on the chair and zoro’s big body would be squeezed between two parents talking on the phone for nearly nine hours straight, occasionally heading out to grab some food for himself and kuina. the things he would do for that girl.
kuina would be in the big chair swinging her little feet as she watched youtube video’s on her daddy’s phone. she’d always smile at the fact that you were his lock screen and she was his home screen—a picture of him coddling with her to sleep when she was just a baby. lord knows how much them two love they sleep!
he’d be so overprotective, he would teach kuina her parents’ full name, address, emergency phone numbers, and everything in between by the time she’s 6. no stranger would ever had a chance to mess with the daughter of roronoa zoro.
despite his off putting (and quite rude) personality, he’d be the best one to give advice. only to you and his little kuina though. most wouldnt even consider it advice, but baby kuina always loved it when her daddy told her what he thinks she should do in a troubling situation.
“papa what do you think i should do?” the little girl frowns. “i really think i hurt the girl’s feelings. but i didn’t mean to!”
zoro pops his one good eye open from its closed resting position as he sat on the couch with his arms folded. “are you sorry?”
kuina gives him solemn eyes and nods her head. “really sorry.”
with a quick whit, zoro answers straight, “apologize. don’t make the situation about you. she’s the one you hurt, make sure she realizes that you know that.”
kuina allows her father’s words to sink in her brain in order to fully process everything he’d said. when a bright idea comes to her head, she wraps her arms around her father and places a wet kiss on his cheek, yelling, “thank you papa!” before skipping off to make amends with her friend.
would sueprise teachers and parents when he shows up to some PTA’s alone. you were caught up at work, so zoro took up parental volunteering opportunities on his own. of course, he only did these things for you and kuina, so he didn’t care that the single parents were eye goggling him with lust. not when kuina bragged to all her friends about how cool her dad was.
zoro tries to create an emotion-based home. he doesn’t want kuina growing up in a cold home like you and him did, so he always made it his best to publicly express his emotions or whatever he was feeling at home. he made sure kuina saw him love on you in order to see and know that her parents always loved each other—not just for show—and made sure that she knew it was okay to express her own emotions because she was a lot like him, more than he’d have liked.
when he catches kuina stiffile in her cry about him having to miss a chunk of her school play due to a very heinous and reaosnable excuse (traffic was a bitch), he pulls her off to the side and allows her space to express how she feels.
“you can cry. it’s okay to cry, marimo.” zoro kneels down to kuina’s height as she hangs her head low, too embarrassed to look up and reveal her tears. the one bond they had, was him calling her marimo because if you looked at the both of them—they were damn near identical twins. you were convinced your genes didn’t even fucking try to make it to the egg on time. only he could call her that though. that was their thing.
zoro gives her a genuine apology. he hated seeing his pretty princess cry, but he knew she had to do it. “i’m sorry. i got here as quick as i could, hm? i’d never miss anything about you on purpose.”
at the sound of her father’s soft voice, kuina looks up and wipes away some of her tears. “you promise papa?” her voice is sultry as you wipe at your back, heart warming at the beautiful wholesome interaction between the two.
behind zoro’s back were a mini bouquet of flowers and candy. “course i do kid. c’mere, i’m gonna make it up to you.”
lord knows zoro wasn’t the best father. he didn’t even think he was a good father—this was all new to him. but sometimes, he’d liked to believe that what he was doing in the present was enough to give kuina the future he never got to have.
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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months
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⋆ Get On Mic ⋆
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pairing: Mingi x gn reader ft. Yunho
word count: 2,3k
content: Mingi likes your, and his best friend's, voice a little... too much and isn't very good at hiding it
warnings/tags: mxm, sub!mingi, dom!reader, switch!yunho, phone sex, voyeurism, possessive mingi, I can't really think of any others, tell me if there's anything else
a/n: just incase, wyd= what you doing ,vc=voice chat, also this isn't proof read so!!! sorry
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Mingi: you busy?
You: just finished some work, why wyd?
Mingi: jump on vc lets play, you promised. and the guys miss you
This was the 3rd time this week you had abandoned your 'finished' homework for Mingi. You would've said not tonight as said homework is due tomorrow, but for all the boys? You supposed you could play for a little while.
Mingi had been acting differently for a few weeks, nothing obvious, but you had noticed he had become much clingier with you. "Did one of your anime characters die or something?" you asked the giant that was wrapped around you as you made lunch for the boys.
"Hm? Oh, no, you're just so comfy. This hoodie new?" he grumbled into your shoulder, putting his hands in the front pockets as you tried to maneuver the both of you around the kitchen.
"No it's Jongho's, he said I could borrow it for the day-"
"Wear mine instead." Mingi unravelled himself from you and marched off to his bedroom with purpose, emerging with a hoodie of his own. It was your favourite of his, and he knew it—a tattered grey one that Mingi had owned for years, and he looked so pretty in it; you complimented him on it whenever he decided to wear it. You had actually been seeing it more often these days than you used to.
"Alright Mingi, whatever makes you happy princess" You didn't question his actions; Mingi's clingy days were quite endearing to you if you were honest. He clung to you like a koala to a tree, despite his stature and the fact you could hardly move when he did.
"I'm not a princess y/n,"
"You sure act like one? It's okay to be my princess Mingi, I'll look after you, hm?" Mingi huffed grumpily and slipped his hands under Jongho's jumper to pull it over your head, before realising you weren't wearing a shirt under it. Despite his beet-red face, he slipped his hoodie over your head, and took a step to admire his work; the way you looked in his clothes.
"See that's much better!" He yelled loud enough to smother the noise of his racing thoughts.
"I'm right here Mingi!" You rubbed your ringing ear as he apologised for nearly bursting your eardrum, "You are right though, this does look better. Could you give this back to Jongho when he gets home for me?"
He sighed sarcastically, "Anything for you my y/n." That left you with a weird flutter in your stomach, you weren't used to Mingi using endearing language like that. You wouldn't mind it again, though.
"Thank you, princess!" You laughed and ran away hearing Mingi's heavy footsteps not far behind.
You opened the voice chat to hear Woo and Joong fighting over who got who killed in their last match. "YOU LITERALLY-Y/n! You're here!" Wooyoung yelled down the mic and diverted his attention to you, with a slew of greetings coming through from the boys, Mingi's voice pitching in last.
"You made it," you could practically hear the grin on Mingi's face.
"Here he goes again" Yeosang's voice chimes into the conversation.
"Shut up Yeo."
You look at your screen, confused as to why Yeosang would say that and what it meant; why Mingi's tone had turned deep and icy at the statement, but before you even had a chance to question the situation, Seonghwa beat you to it. "Let's play! San I'm gonna beat your ass."
"We're on the same team??"
After playing a few rounds for a few…hours…the boys finally called a 20-minute break so they could go stretch and raid their kitchen for whatever they had bought on a late-night shopping trip. Well, you thought everybody had gone anyway.
"Y/n?" You almost missed Mingi's hushed voice down the mic, he sounded so soft. You hoped you could go and see the boys after all your assignments were handed in; you missed Mingi's hugs-turned-cuddle-sessions-turned-sleepovers.
"What's up princess, you okay?" your gentle tone sent shivers down the boy's spine. He felt hot when you called him sweet names through the phone, and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the way you called him princess got to him. Bad. Like bad in the way that was making him shift in his chair as the fabric on his plaid pyjama pants felt tighter by the second. Fuck, he felt so guilty, letting your sleepy voice get to him like this, but he just couldn't help it. He loved it, he loved the way you made noises when you stretched in your chair, groans slipping out of your mouth-
"Mingi? You there?"
He accidentally huffed a little down the mic, trying to conceal his whimpers as he pressed down into his growing hard-on, trying to gain some friction with the palm of his hand while he answered your worried tone. "yeah yeah,, I'm here. Can you just… talk? Tell me about your day,,, please?" Now that he had started, he just couldn't stop himself from reaching into his trousers now grinding up into his palm through just his boxers.
"Yeah, sure Mingi. So you know that assignment? I actually haven't…." The warmth of your voice spread like wildfires across his burning skin as you told him about… he totally wasn't sure what you were saying. His head was too fuzzy, too high off of your voice that he could barely register your words when he wasn't concentrating.
"Mingi are you okay? You sound out of breath, should I tell one of the guys to check on you-"
"No! No, I'm hh, fine y/n,, c-carry on please" Mingi knew he would get caught any second with the noises escaping his mouth, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted you so fucking bad, he was so desperate for you to just make a move on him after weeks, months of teasing and touching; hell, he had 3 wet dreams and infinite cold showers after he took Jongho's hoodie off your body, his eyes absorbing every detail, curve, scar, blemish, beauty mark—whatever his eyes had access to at that moment.
"Princess. You should've just told me you needed my voice." Busted. You could hear Mingi rhythmically shifting and huffing, his chair squeaking every once in a while. In all honesty, you had caught Mingi doing this a couple of times now, You could always hear the sound of Mingi's hand smacking the base of his cock as he stroked himself to your voice. It lit a heat in your stomach so strong that after the first few times, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from reaching into your underwear and playing with yourself; Slow enough as to not cum on the call but by the time it had ended you'd be writhing and squirming into your mattress. The thought of him taking in your body with greedy eyes any chance he could had your legs shaking as your orgasm hit you like a truck, crying out his name into your pillow.
"Wh- what? What do you mean?" Mingi's movements came to a halt on the other side of the call.
"Mingi, do you think I can't hear what you've been doing? How all of a sudden when it's just me and you, your breaths become heavy? Oh, princess, you're cute." you couldn't help teasing the poor man, you didn't think you had done too much till you heard the giant whimper into his mic, hands moving at a faster pace than before.
"Answer me, baby, tell me what you're doing, please?"
"Ah- I'm… fuck I'm sorry. Just—your voice is so hot, I couldn't help it—ngh" Before you could you heard a phone camera click, followed by a notification on your phone—Oh.
Mingi's veined hand was practically suffocating the base of his angry cock, precum leaking out of his tip. God, it was a beautiful sight that made your mouth water-
"Mingi. You didn't send that just to me…"
Yunho: did you mean to send that to the both of us or should I just pretend I didn't see anything?
Yunho: Either way, Impressive👍
Mingi squeaked at Yunho's messages out of embarrassment, and being kind of turned on at his friend's words.
Right? You like what you see, Yunho? Come join the call again…
You had a sneaking suspicion that they both had a little more interest in each other than just lifelong friends, and while you liked Mingi a whole lot, his best friend was just as pretty. The two of you had also shared some drunken kisses and touches one night after helping a blacked-out Mingi to bed. You wanted to dress them up in matching outfits and parade them around the house-
"Mingi? Y/n?" Yunho cautiously called out your names, his voice more gruff than usual.
"Yunho… help…" Mingi was barely able to get his words out, between the shame of getting caught out, and the way it was making him more needy by the second, his brain felt as though it was becoming mush.
"Mingi, are you really rubbing one out in the call again? You were bound to get caught, this is on you." Ah, so you weren't the only one who had caught onto his antics. To be fair, when it was just late-night calls between the 3 of you, he wasn't sly at all. All the shuffling and coughing to cover up his sounds, and the way he would mute himself for a suspiciously long amount of time with no warning, all to come back with a groggy voice and shallow breaths.
"Again?! Ah-What do you mean again-" Mingi gave up on trying to stop his whimpers and groans between speaking, letting them fall out of his bitten lips.
"Mingi, you could've just told us you needed our help, I'm literally in the room next to yours." Yunho can't help but let out a throaty laugh at the boy's predicament.
"Don't you dare Yunho, if you're gonna touch him then I better be there for it." Your body heat rises at the thought of the two of you teasing Mingi's aching body till he cums for you both. As if Mingi was thinking the same thing, his sweet noises increased with each stroke, one hand reaching up to play with his sensitive nipples. He was so desperate to cum after unintentionally edging himself two times, both of your words mixing with the fuzz in his brain making.
"Guys I don't mean—mean to stop the bickering but—please help,,," Mingi grabbed his phone and threw himself on his soft bed. Since his room was already darkened, the only sources of light emitting from his gaming setup and phone screen thanks to the blackout curtains, he turned the camera on for you and Yunho to see his tired and red face huffing into the darkness.
"Pretty," You heard Yunho whisper under his breath, so quiet you weren't sure if he had meant to say it out loud, but Mingi's little whimper as he rutted against his bed reassured Yunho either way.
"You think so Yunho? You think our princess is a pretty boy?"
"So pretty. Arent you Mingi?" He cried out so loud Yunho could hear him through the wall. He began to beat his cock harder with each stroke slapping his skin louder than the last.
"Oh Mingi, you're so worked up sweet boy, you gonna cum for us?" you whispered sweetly, bringing Mingi closer to his edge.
"Y-yes fuck please I'm so close please keep going" The boy moaned out into the bedsheets, craving his nearing release. He imagined two sets of hands on his aching body, Yunhos larger pair raking across his chest while one of yours grips the surface of his hip, the other dragging up and down his weeping cock.
"Im gonna- I- I need to cum-" You could hear Yunho's breaths becoming shaky and uneven too, the sounds coming from the two almost making you cum untouched at the thought of them getting off to this.
"Yunho, you ready to cum with Mingi? I wanna hear you both cry" You say with a smile, rolling your hips into your pillow.
"Y-yeah, Mingi fuck cum princess" Yunho tried to say in a stable voice, faltering as he and Mingi came into tightened fists, cum streaking against their surroundings. Mingi cried as he spurted white liquid from his tip, what felt like hours of edging coming to an end finally, his orgasm hitting him so roughly he had managed to get cum on his face and the walls from the buildup. Yunhos had been a little less explosive but he had still been desperate for release knowing what his roommate had been up to for so long. After a minute or two of no talking, you checked in,
"You boys okay now?" You approached the situation cautiously.
"Y/n, can you come over? We'll help you with your essay just- please come over?" Mingis's groggy voice pleaded, Yunho carrying on his thoughts.
"I'll pick you up and take you to college in the morning too, we miss you." Maybe it was how soft they sounded in their haze of post-nut clarity, but you really couldn't say no to them.
"I'll be ready in 5 but take your time getting here… Also, I didn't get to cum so are you guys gonna fix that orrrr?" You hear the call end as you finish your sentence and suddenly feel embarrassed.
Mingi: be there in 4.
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I'm sorry this is so ass tbh😭😭😭😭 it's done now though thank GOD
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axelsagewrites · 4 months
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Where Am I?*Introduction/Part One
Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, (future) Bjorn
Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies
Word Count: 2445
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Warnings: time travel being possible, bullying, getting chased by some very confused vikings, imprisonment
Masterlist Here
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"Cmon Jason. Give it a rest," you heard one of his friends tell him, but you were already crossing the bridge to get away from them.
You'd came to the park after school to relax after yet another hellish day of studying. You were a history student, obsessed with the Vikings, and sadly for some reason Jason's enemy number one. Apparently, the frat boy still held a grudge for the time you rejected him last year and decided to make your life a misery.
As you were halfway across the bridge you heard laughing then footsteps and just as you went to turn you felt him grab your bag off your shoulder. Well, he tried. You grabbed it back, yelling "help!" As his other friend tried to help him pull it away. 
You glanced behind you to see if anyone was near but no. You were alone of the bridge 6 feet at least above the deep lake. "Dude!" You heard the friend again as your head whipped back around.
"fine!" Jason yelled as he let go of the bag just as you had attempted to tug it from him. "Wait no!" You heard his voice before you felt the wood dig into your back and then heard a sickening snap.
You screamed as you felt the wind rush past your face, hair whipping around as your body hurtled headfirst towards the water. You felt your head sink in and the water ring in your ears like church bells as your eyes screwed up tight.
You waited for your head to crash against the rocks but instead felt your legs hit the soft ground, your butt and shoulders soon following. Your head hit the ground gently as a groan left your lips. As your eyes opened you realised not only did you feel no water or soggy clothing but that a scattered sunlight was washing over your face. 
"What the-" you muttered as you sat up. Your guitar bag was still clutched in one hand, your backpack hooked around your elbow, and now your earphones had been tossed behind you during the fall. That however did not concern you as much as the overwhelming greenery.
The Forrest around you had winding trees up to the sky with whispers of squirrels and rabbits in the background. You pulled yourself to your feet as your eyes scanned the woods. "Where am I?" You muttered as you grabbed your headphones and shoved them in your bag. 
You checked your phone however there was not only no signal but now the time had become dashes alongside the battery percentage. The Wi-Fi and Bluetooth signals were now just colourful blobs and even when you tried opening the emergency number call it refused to let you punch in the digits. You sighed and turned it off, hoping that by the time you found your way out the Forrest it would have rebooted so you could call your parents or maybe even a hospital since you'd obviously hit your head very hard.
You put the phone in your bag and zipped it up, even using the number lock your mother insisted you put on it to keep your bag safe. You weren't sure which way to go. After all no matter where you walked you could either be going closer or further to whatever destination would be the safest.
Fuck it. You thought. There's only one way to find out. You walked through the forest, not even trying to not step on twigs or ruffle leaves since you were probably just far deeper into the campus woods than you'd ever been before. However, then you heard voices.
Well laughter really. At least three men. Your footsteps slowed encase Jason and his friends had somehow made you lose your mind and we're torturing you but no. Instead, you held back a gasp as you peaked through the leaves to see four men with their backs to you.
One was sat on a log playing with what looked like a dagger while another two practised throwing axes. Fuck. All three were dressed as if they were Vikings. Perhaps you'd been studying them too much and had officially lost your marbles.
Or perhaps the other Viking nerds in your school had formed a club. As you debated taking a step forward one of the men missed his throw causing another to yell out a jab. As the man span round to answer his eyes stopped when he saw you. His hand shot out to nudge the man next to him who turned around.
He was a brunette man with a long braid down how back "I'm Ubbe," the boy called as he stepped forward, "Who are you? Why are you here?" He called however your eyes wandered down then widened as you saw him gripping his axe.
"Tell us!" The boy who had missed called, stepping closer. Your eyes wandered to the third who was reaching for something in his belt when you finally made up your mind.
Run. You turned, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you. Your feet hammered against the dirt as their shouts echoed through the forest. You didn't dare glance back or stop for the branches whipping against your face. There was finally a break in the trees. Freedom. Safety you thought.
As you ran you arrived at the top of a hill. You turned to look down, expecting to see your campus when dread filled your blood. No this wasn't real. A village of Vikings now looked up at where you stood on the hill.
You stood for a moment panting as you overlooked it all. That was until you heard them again. "Stop right there!" Ubbe all but screamed. 
You ran again. To your left was a high cliff facing a grey blue ocean and to your right was 3 very angry looking Vikings. You decided to take your chances with the clueless as you barrelled down the hill into what looked to be like a market.
Despite being the least terrifying person here they all jumped out your way, gasping and screaming as you ran all while Ubbe and the others chased you. 
You were running towards a bridge by a stream and decided for one last second to glance behind you. They were just running around the corner when you felt a hand grab your foot as the other got swept up in the air.
It was as if your body took flight as you fell to the ground with a large thump. You groaned as you tried to pick yourself up just for a large hand to grab your shoulder and flip you on your back. 
As you stared at his electric blue eyes your own eyes widened. "Ivar?" You whispered and his eyes widened so much you wondered if it hurt however just as he went to speak Ubbe pulled him off him.
Ubbe. Your brain clicked. There's no possible way. It couldn't be. Surely not. Ubbes hand pulling you to your feet. "I asked you a question," he growled as you gasped for air. As much as you wanted to be tough and brave and all the other things these Vikings were being faced to face to Ubbe was too much as the spots began to cloud your vision and you felt your body fall limp as the world faded to black.
-
As you began to stir you half expected to open your eyes and see your dorm room, but the hard stick pressed against your spine made you doubtful. Your eyes opened to find yourself in a wooden cage in the corner of what looked like a bedroom. It was dark and suddenly felt very small as your hands grabbed the bars as you began to shake them.
“Fuck,” you grunted as you hit your hand against the frame but instead of it budging now your hand just hurt. Before you could try for any longer you froze when you saw the door slowly push open.
“I see what you mean,” a woman’s voice muttered as she approached your cage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her or the men behind her, “What is she wearing?” she whispered.
“We don’t know,”
“We found her like this,”
“Do you think she’s a witch?” you felt your blood run cold at the man’s word.
The woman stood up and turned to what you soon realised were her sons. In fact, now you realised who they all were. It was Sigurd who’d claimed you may be a witch but how could he possibly be real? He was a tv character after all.
“Perhaps but we cannot know for sure yet,” Aslaug whispered to her son, “Can you speak child?” she called out to you as if she was shouting on a dog. Your head raised so you could get a better look, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
“What are we going to do?” Ubbe asked. As the four spoke amongst themselves you realised one was missing. Ivar was nowhere to be seen.
“Your father should be home any day now. We will wait for him,” Aslaug finally determined, “I have never seen someone like this. I do not wish to find out what harm she can cause alone,” with that the four turned to leave, shutting the door and leaving you in the stale dark once more.
You sighed as you leaned back against the cage however as your eyes scanned the room you noticed your bags sitting in the corner making your head instantly perk up. You knew you didn’t have anything sharp in it but as your stomach rumbled you realised what you did need. Food.
As you began to wonder how you would get to your things you heard the door crack open. You looked up as Ivar dragged himself into the room, constantly checking over his shoulder before he shut the door and brought himself over to your cage. His eyes scanned your frame as you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly.
“Who are you?” he murmured, his eyes landing on your face, “and how do you know my name?” the silence that followed was only broken by the loud rumble of your stomach once more as you winced. “You’re hungry?” he asked.
Finally, you nodded, and a smile quirked onto his lips, “So you do understand?” you nodded again, “If you tell me who you are I’ll bring you something to eat,”
You paused as you decided if it was worth breaking the façade, you’d created but as your stomach churned you realised starving to death before Ragnar returned was not worth it. you whispered your name, but your voice was hoarse from lack of use.
Ivars’s head tilted slightly as his eyebrows knitted, “What a usual name,” he mused.
You bit back a laugh. “Coming from Ivar the boneless,” you muttered.
His eyes widened, a look of what you couldn’t tell if shock or rage or both washed over his face. “What did you call me?” he half yelled, grabbing onto the bars of the cage you were suddenly thankful for.
“It’s what everyone calls you!” you rushed out, pushing yourself as far away as possible, “In the textbooks that’s what legend says you were called I’m sorry,”
He paused, his hands slipping from the bar as the confused look returned, “What is a textbook?”
“Like a history book,” you said but that did little to explain it to him, “It’s like- “you paused trying to think what the closest thing to a Viking textbook was, “It’s like how you pass down stories in songs! We write them down in textbooks, so nobody forgets,”
Ivar paused for a moment as he finally relaxed again, “Where did you come from?” he asked, “And how do they know who I am? What have you told them?”
“I haven’t told them anything, my teachers they taught it to me,” you said, finally allowing yourself to sit at ease again, “I’m from the future,” the words felt foreign in your mouth as Ivar’s blue eyes widened.
“Prove it,”
“You’re Ivar the boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok,” you spoke but your voice was shaky as you tried to remember all you could, “Brother of Bjorn Ironside who explored the Mediterranean sea. Son of Aslaug. You go on to command the great heathen army,” you said and as you spoke Ivar looked like a child being read a bedtime story about pirates and mermaids, “You Ivar are a legend where I am from,” perhaps bending the truth a little but what would he know.
“And who- “
You cut him off this time when you felt your stomach lurch, “You said you would feed me. I won’t tell you anything else till you live up to your word,” you tried to sound firm, but it clearly wasn’t your style.
Still though Ivar nodded as he slowly began to drag himself away, “I shall return,” he said as he opened the door, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t go anywhere,” he teased before shutting the door behind him.
You rolled your eyes as you sunk back into the wood behind you. “Oh god he really is nuts,” you whispered. Then again perhaps it was you that was nuts. After all you had just been talking to a Viking who’d died thousands of years ago.
General Taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate
Vikings Taglist: @bellroclucky03 @ringpopdust @hypocritic-trash-baby @tessakate
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
Text
Imagine the whole scrunchie thing becomes super popular where people wear their partner’s scrunchies (idk how to phrase/explain it. Hear me out.)
Steve witnesses it emerge among the kids when Max buys a matching plaid trio set for her, El, and Lucas. She tries to shrug it off as not being a big deal but Lucas and El are SO excited to wear them.
Dustin comes to Steve for advice on the perfect scrunchie to send to Suzie. They settle on one that has lyrics from “A Never Ending Story” sewn into it.
Mike steals one from Nancy making some bullshit excuse about how his hair is too long and he needs to put it up. It “magically” appears on Will’s wrist later that day. Max jokes that people are going to think that Will is dating Nancy which sends Mike into a full spiral, and he gives in and uses the little amount of money he has to buy Will a yellow and blue one.
Robin comes running to Steve one day talking a mile a minute about how Nancy gave her one of her scrunchies, and she doesn’t know if it means something or if she wanted Robin to put her hair up. Steve calmly tells her that Nancy definitely was making a move. Robin absolutely has an excited breakdown.
Even Hopper has a plain brown scrunchie that appears on his wrist one day that Joyce usually wears in her hair.
Then, it happens to Steve. One day, he’s hanging out with Eddie in his backyard who casually asks him to hold his black scrunchie with little silver bats on it. Steve slips it on his wrist as Eddie winks and immediately dives into his pool.
Steve doesn’t even flinch as Eddie belly flops. As Eddie breaks the surface, Steve yells out, “What did we say about your impulse control?”
“It’s a bad influence if I don’t control it around the kids. But I don’t see them anywhere,” Eddie says floating on his back, clothes clinging to his body.
“Practice makes perfect,” Steve says, then sighs. “I’ll get you some clothes.”
It’s not until Eddie leaves later that night in Steve’s borrowed clothes that Steve realizes Eddie forgot his scrunchie.
He doesn’t think it’s a big deal until he’s around Nancy, Robin, and the kids. Will is the first one who spots the scrunchie and points it out.
Dustin immediately recognizes it and starts screaming, “You’re dating Eddie?!”
All the other kids start joining in on yelling, but to Steve’s surprise, all of them are yelling some form of “congratulations” or “finally!”
When Steve wordlessly makes his way to Nancy and Robin, Nancy smiles and says, “I’m really glad Eddie finally told you how he felt.”
“Me too, I could barely stand it!” Robin says, “I’ve been keeping this crush a secret for weeks, Steve, weeks.”
Steve nods expressionless.
“You okay?” Nancy questions.
“I just need some air,” Steve says immediately heading up the basement steps. He makes his way to the front door which swings open, and Steve suddenly has an armful of Eddie.
“I’m so sorry- Steve? Sorry, man,” Eddie apologizes and then really looks at him. “You okay?”
“You like me?” Steve asks.
“I- what?” Eddie replies, blood draining from his face.
Steve holds up his scrunchie clad wrist. “You left this, and then the kids assumed we were dating. Then, uh, Nancy may have told me you had - or have - feelings for me.”
Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before stalking over to sit on the couch, putting his head in his hands. “This is not good, this is not good, this is not good…” Eddie mumbles to himself.
Steve closes the front door and makes his way over to where Eddie is sitting. “Is it true?”
Eddie sits up and pushes the hair away from his face. He looks Steve in the eye and says, “Yes.”
Steve nods and takes it in. Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him.
Eddie’s holds his hand out in front of Steve as if asking for Steve to give him something.
“What’s this for?” Steve asks.
“I’d like my scrunchie back, please,” Eddie says tensely.
“But what if I don’t want to give it back?” Steve rushes out.
Eddie blinks. “What?”
“What if…” Steve trails off and takes a deep breath, “What if I like you, too?”
Eddie freezes. “Huh?”
“What if I liked you, too, and what if I didn’t correct anyone about us dating?”
Eddie looks down at the scrunchie and says, “But what if I really like that scrunchie?”
Steve bursts out laughing. “That’s your issue?”
“It’s a custom made scrunchie, Steve! It has little bats on it!” Eddie replies.
Steve continues to laugh which encourages Eddie to join him.
After the laughter dies down, Eddie asks, “You really like me?”
“Yes.”
Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his and dramatically says, “Then, I guess you can keep this for now.”
“For now?”
“I told you I really like that one!” Eddie exclaims, tugging jealously at the band around Steve’s wrist.
“You’re really something, you know that?”
“Something? I thought I was your boyfriend,” Eddie says with a cheesy smile.
Steve rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m going to regret accidentally keeping this, aren’t I?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie promises with a big smile.
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