#fuck you all i’ll kill all of you with my brothers shotgun and then kill all of the fake seizure cops
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i’m going to start slaughtering people on here who think fentanyl only this awesome gotcha for idiot cops and not an actual crisis that’s killing people like we all care about the aids crisis as we should but this is killing people. my entire life has been fucking destroyed because of it and it will fucking eat away at my brain and heart for the rest of my life and i come on here and it’s ‘lOL cOpS DumB so let’s praise a dangerous drug’. shut the fuck up choke on your own saliva
#how bout we focus on the systemic racism and militarization of the police#like 1 pill with 9 times the lethal limit like ok fuck you how about you lose your baby brother your best friend your life is gone#fuck you all i’ll kill all of you with my brothers shotgun and then kill all of the fake seizure cops#i’m very fucking angry today
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you as mybig brother finally letting me join you hanging out after I come out as ftm because mom and dad insisted I need more time with other men. Big brother doesn’t really believe I’m a boy, you see the fakeboy I am and so you hatch a plan.
You call me downstairs and tell me to come with you, you’re going to a friend’s. I’m eager to join you, I’ve wanted to hang out with you and your friends for forever!! On the drive there, you tell me to have one of the edibles that’s in your glove box. I hesitate and tell you I’ve never been high before, you insist I’ll be fine and it’ll be a fairly low dose and it’ll be fun. I believe you and take it. It’s not a long drive so when I get there I’m not really feeling it yet and when we join your friends in the basement, you take several hits off the joint and make me take them via shotgunning. About 30 minutes go by of me getting higher and giggly and just zoinked out of my mind from my big brother shotgunning me and I barely realized how much you started touching me while you passed me the smoke. You pull me in close and properly kiss me, sloppy with tongue, and push your hands up under my shirt and binder and start massaging my fake boy tits. I’m too high to realize how messed up this is and I can’t help but make pathetic noises and whine for you to touch me more. Soon enough, you have my shirt and binder fully off, much to the enjoyment of your friends. You tell me I have such nice tits and that I’m such a good girl for you. I whine in protest at the girl part but can’t really form the words to say anything. You tell me you’ve always wanted to fuck me, I’ve been teasing you so fucking long at home, and you get your friends to help get my pants down. You tell me good little sisters let their brother rape them and i have to be good. I try to protest but this went all according to your plan, I’m so high I can barely think let alone move away from you. Not long and you have your cock in my cunt. You tell me only girls get raped by their brother and that I’m such a good girl for taking your cock so well and that you’re going to fucking breed me to prove I can’t be a boy, that it was so stupid of me to think I ever could be. Whenever I whine in protest you slap me and tell me to shut up. After a few times, you call one of your friends over and tell him to rape “the dumb slut’s” throat to shut it up. I gag and choke around his cock and it’s not long until I cum around your cock. I can’t help it, you’re raping me so hard and it feels so good regardless of my protests. You cum inside my girl cunt and get another one of your friends to come over and rape my ass. It hurts so bad and I start crying only to get slapped by you and you threaten to kill me, telling me this is all dumb girls who think they’re boys are good for anyways and that if I don’t let big bro and his friends use my holes you’ll slit my fucking throat to shut me up and still use my dead body.
The whole night is you and your friends taking turns raping me and making me cum to prove to me that I can’t be a boy. You don’t let anyone else cum in my dumb girl cunt though, it’s your responsibility to impregnate me. And maybe that starts you continuing to rape me at home. You corner me whenever possible and use my holes to your heart’s content. You always make sure to cum inside my cunt and to make my girly cunt cum to remind me that I’m a dumb girl <3
awww poor dumb girl, yr adorable <3 stoned out of your mind while you're getting passed around. can't wait for your big brother's rape baby, huh? I'd make sure to get rid of anything in your wardrobe that doesn't give me easy access to your cunt as well, because it doesn't belong to you anymore
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i have been ummm super m.i.a for a few months because i am so busy and also my shitty old phone won’t run the shitty tumblr app correctly so uhhh few life updates:
- people in spokane drive like there’s no such thing as manslaughter and you only get in trouble if you meant to kill that pedestrian
-fin wherever you are i know we haven’t talked in years but i want you to know that my california wasp roommate leaves her fucking butter on the counter WITHOUT even a butter dish. the nightmares you described are real what the fuck what the fuck
-the entire crazy michael saga. my phone does not work well enough to tell you all of it right now but here’s an image of his sink from last month. yes those are shotgun shells. (halfcat for scale)
- the annoying younger brother type neighbor who is actually two years older than me really wants me to put a beach episode in my coal country middle school horror story. i told him to write me a 4,000 word essay and i’ll give it serious consideration. he is actually writing it. i am so fucking excited
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Emergency daddy style
A/N: Story got inspired by this ask.👇 Thank you tiktok anon. 🥰😍
Title: Emergency daddy style
Square Filled for @howbadcanitbebingo: Overly dramatic (character or entire fic)
Summary: Dean lost something important.
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Characters: Sam Winchester
Warnings: angst, scared Dean, a hint of crack!fic, fluff, daddy!Dean
Wordcount: 700+
Divider @firefly-graphics
Multifandom Bingos & Special Collections
“No, no! Not good! Red alert Sammy! RED ALERT!” Dean panics. “SAMMY! HELP ME! THEY ARE GONE!” He freaks out.
“Where is the fire!” Sam runs into the library, shotgun in his hands, ready to attack any enemy who managed to slip inside the bunker. “What’s wrong? Where is the intruder?”
“Sammy, they are gone,” the hunter frantically runs his fingers through his hair. He’s completely out of it as his brother tries to fathom what just happened.
“Dean, what happened?” looking around the library to find out why his brother is losing his mind, Sam frowns deeply. “Everything looks normal.”
“I was gone for like two minutes and now they are nowhere to be found, Sammy. OH—Fuck! Y/N will kill me! My wife will leave me, and I’ll die a painful and slow death before she leaves.”
“DEAN! Tell me what happened!” Sam grunts.
“Why did they have to learn how to crawl? Before I could place them onto the little mattress, give them a plushie, and leave for three hours without them making a fuzz. UH, not that I ever let them out of sight for so long,” Dean hastily explains. “I wanted to take a piss and when I came back, Dean jr. and Lara Jo were just gone.”
Dean hides his face in the palms of his hands, despairing as he lost his babies.
“Dean, I’m pretty sure the twins cannot leave the bunker on their own. We only need to find them.”
“Right,” he swallows thickly. “Where should we look first?”
“They are slow and small. Little Dean and Lara won’t make it far,” Sam places his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll take the left side; you go to the right. If they do not hide at the library, we will search for them in every room at the bunker.”
“Good plan,” Dean nods, relieved that his brother came up with a plan. The hunter can’t think straight right now and is happy to give up control to his brother for once. “I’ll go right and—”
“Dean, baby,” you call from the hallways. “Can you lend me a hand? They are getting heavy. DEAN!”
“WHAT? Oh-shit, Sammy,” Dean looks at his brother, eyes wide and fearful, “Y/N is already back! OH NO! Now she will leave me and I’ll never see her or the babies again.”
“Babe, can you take your son? DEAN! Dude are you even listening,” you make your way back inside the library, carrying both babies in your arms. “Dean, can you stop messing with Sammy and take one of them.”
“MY BABIES!” there is no holding back. Dean almost rips his babies out of your arms to hold them tightly and pepper kisses all over their tiny heads. “I thought I lost you.”
“Lost them?” cocking your head you search Dean’s face. “I told you that they need a bath. Little Dean pooped too much and stank as if something died in his diaper, Dean.”
“Bath? What?” while Sam chuckles behind his brother’s back, Dean starts to sniffle. “You could’ve told me so! I was scared to hell and back.”
“Babe, the bunker is the safest place on earth,” you pat Dean’s arm. “Nothing happened to them.”
“Something could’ve happened! They are crawling now. Soon they are going to walk and fall and get hurt and have a bleeding knee or worse.”
“Dean, you need to calm down,” carefully taking your daughter out of Dean’s arms you sigh deeply. “They are safe. We are safe. Nothing happened.”
“I’ll never leave them alone again to take a piss,” he mumbles under his breath. “One moment they happily played on the mattress, and then they were just gone.”
“Yeah, I picked poop-machine and squealing machine up to get them clean,” Sam chuckles at the awful nicknames Dean gave his children. “Let’s go back to their room, okay.”
“Okay,” still a little shaken Dean follows you out of the library, holding his son a little tighter today. “I just love them so much.”
“I love them too, and you,” you stop in your tracks to turn around and peck Dean’s lips. “And you are the best dad in the world. Strong. Brave. Sexy.”
“Sexy, huh?” Dean flashes you a lopsided grin. “How about we find out how sexy I really am after we put our little angels to sleep.”
“We will see, Mr. Winchester…we will see…”
Tags in reblog.
#howbadcanitbebingo#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfic#Daddy!Dean#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester SPN#Emergency daddy style
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Bubba gets hurt (Bubba x gn reader)
The hot Texan sun beat down on the dry land. Screams came from the large old Sawyer house. A group of friends road tripping across the state unfortunately broke down on the land of the cannibal family. One by one they were picked off by Drayton and Leatherface. Hours passed by with no hope shining through. A certain victim had noticed the masked serial killers actions. He was timid. He almost seemed scared. They hadn’t been very close to the others on the trip. (Y/n) waited and watched for a way to escape.
Finally as the sun was setting they saw their chance and took it. Sprinting through nearby trees and tall grass, (y/n) could taste the hope of escape. They could hear the chainsaw wielding man following. The survivors' lungs burned but they kept going. Hearing a panicked surprised yell (y/n) stopped. The chainsaw stopped and all that could be heard were grunts. Bubba’s leg had fallen through an old wooden hatch. He tried and tried to get it out but couldn’t. He was stuck and that scared him. After about 30 minutes the sun had set and the only source of light was the moon. Leatherface’s grunts turned to panicked yells. He didn’t want to be out there at night and no one had come to check on him.
“Fuck” (y/n) had snuck to where he was, staying hidden they watched the man the entire time. His panicked noises were heartbreaking. They slowly came out from the hiding place. Hesitantly walking towards the trapped man. Bubba froze. He didn’t know what to do. He yelled more and swung his arms around trying to defend himself.
“Hey I’m not going to hurt you” they said in a calm voice. (Y/n) held their hands up to show they had no weapons. Bubba was skeptical since he and his family had just killed their friends.
“I promise” they reassured. He huffed, worn out from trying to get out of the hole. (Y/n) gently grabbed the man’s arm. “On three push with your other hand and I’ll pull” he nodded. “Okay one. Two. Three” he pushed with all his might and they pulled as hard as they could. After a moment Leatherface was free. (Y/n) smiles at the success. That smile fell when Leatherface picked up his chainsaw. He tried to take a step but fell crying out in pain. With all the struggling he’d done to try and get out he had torn up his leg. The survivor thought for a moment before offering a trade. “If you don’t kill me I’ll help you get back home. You look like you’re in a lot of pain and probably can’t make it back without help.”
Bubba had no choice. He wanted to be able to go home. His family was probably worried. He nodded sniffling from the blood and pain. (Y/n) lifted the arm on the wounded legs side putting the arm over their shoulder to help keep weight off the torn leg. The first few steps were slow. Knowing it would be a few minutes (Y/n) decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “Other than the killing your family seems nice. I only came along on the trip because I had already bought a ticket to the festival we were heading to. That guy Matthew that you guys killed was my ex. He’s an ass” They told Leatherface things about the trip, where they’re from, and their abusive ex. The entire time Leatherface listened silently. He was still confused as to why this complete stranger was being so kind to him. The talking made the walk seem much shorter. Bubba was grateful for that since he was in a lot of pain. (Y/n) yelled out for help as they approached the steps. Drayton and Nubbins ran out. Nubbins had a shotgun aimed at the two. Drayton smacked the gun away when he saw his little brother wounded
“He fell when he was chasing me. He got really hurt and needs help. I can’t get him up the stairs.” (Y/n) explained. Drayton ordered his brother next to him to get Leatherface. Nubbins did as he was told and helped Bubba up the steps with the stranger following close behind. They were stopped by Drayton. “Where the fuck do you think you’re goin?” He spit. The survivor only answered “in to help unless you have basic first aid training. He will lose that leg if it doesn’t get cleaned and wrapped properly.”
“Fine but then you’re as good as dead” the man shot back. (Y/n) ignored that comment and went in. Bubba had shown them mercy and they were going to return that favor.
Once inside Bubbas whines could be heard clearly. (Y/n) pushed their hair out of their face as much as possible and started shouting orders. “Someone needs to grab the first aid kit out the back of the car my group came in. He’s also going to need a belt to bite on.” Drayton begrudgingly let the stranger bark orders since it was his family at risk. “Robert you go get that from that car of theirs an give em your belt.” He told Nubbins twin.
“Why do I gotta..” Robert whined but quickly decided against his words after seeing his older brothers glare. He muttered a quick “if looks could kill” as he left the house. Nubbins stood above his younger brother who was laying on the couch. “If he loses his legs can I keep it?” He asked happily, making Bubba freak out more and whine louder.
“You shut your damn trap Nubbins. He ain’t gonna lose his leg!” Drayton yelled back. By this time (Y/n) had knelt down next to Bubba to try and help him calm down.
“Take a deep breath, I know it hurts.” They said, holding his hand. Bubba listening to their calm voice trying to calm down. He didn’t like strangers but this one was being nice even though he looks so gross.
When Robert came back he handed it to the stranger. Immediately they got to work, opening the kit they took out tweezers. “Bite on the belt cause this is going to hurt like a bitch but I have to get the wood splinters out.” They explained handing him the belt. Once he bit down they began taking out the many wood splinters from the torn flesh. Bubba did his best to not react. His brothers reactions were interesting to say the least. Drayton observed carefully almost studying the way (Y/n) took out the splinters. Nubbins was giggling, not really knowing how to react. Robert winced at the pained sounds and the sight.
After the splinters had been removed the stranger cleaned, stitched, and wrapped Bubbas leg. They gave the pain killers they could to the injured man. It wouldn’t do much but it was better than nothing. Soon after Bubba fell asleep or maybe passed out. “Why the fuck are you helpin bitch?” Drayton asked. Cleaning up the medical supplies the stranger answered “He could’ve killed me in those woods and you all could’ve killed me when I brought him back. But none of you did. At the moment you aren’t a threat so why wouldn’t I help?” Drayton decided to leave it at that and go talk to the rest of the family. Grandpa wouldn’t be very happy about a stranger not being killed right away.
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I might continue this. Not sure though.
#horror movies#texas chainsaw massacre#bubba sawyer#bubba#sawyer family#drayton sawyer#robert sawyer#nubbins sawyer#x y/n#slasher x reader#xreader#x reader#slasher x gn reader#x gn reader#x you#bubba x reader#bubba sawyer x reader#hurt
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Why do something sexy and shotgun the smoke, when the much funnier option of blowing in his face is right there
Exerpt with the relevant version under the cut (xcom edition)
Kix started to immediately look for an exit out of the gym when one of the Eldars, Margo, he thinks by the hair, began to approach him with an intense look in her eye. He wasn’t fast enough, though, and without a word she grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out into the hallways.
“Kix. I’m here to talk about Nihlus.”
Fucking hell, of course she was, “What about him? I’ve been following your Major's stupid rules, I’ve left him alone, I’ve gone away, what could you possibly want now?”
“What did my brother say to make you such a fucking coward?” She replied, pushing him back
And, “Excuse me?” Kix replied, shoving her hands off, because where did the Eldars store their fucking audacity? Every single one of them was full of shit
“What did Jet say to make you treat Nihlus worse than the dirt on the bottom of your boot? Or is the asshole part all you?”
So she didn’t know? Just their leader's initiative, then? “Well I don’t know about you, but if the second deadliest guy you know threatens to disappear you, a sane person, I think, would listen.”
A flash of anger appeared on her face before it tempered down and she replied, “and, of course, you listened to him. God forbid either of you care what Nihlus thinks.”
And Kix got a little annoyed because, “how was I ever supposed to know what he thinks if he never says it?” because even when they had been on more pleasant terms, Nihlus never talked about himself, never gave a warning when he did insane shit, and never gave context when he did say something. Kix could never figure out what was going on in that templar's head
And that look of anger faded from her face to be replaced by disappointment as she stepped back, “You know, you’re supposed to care enough to actually ask him. But I guess the Commander can’t always be right about bonds,” and then she sighed,
“Jet isn’t going to kill you if you talk to Nihlus, because if he tries, I’ll have his balls. But you know, if you are just going to keep being an asshole and treating Nihlus like a weapon and not a person, just… keep leaving him alone. He’ll probably get over you eventually, move on. And he actually deserves something good, I think. Certainly someone better than you,”
And then she left, and Kix deflated as he watched her retreating back.
Kix… got to work finding out where the templar had gone off to. Because he didn’t actually hold Lorraine's death over Nihlus' head. She had chosen her side long ago. Such as it was when you became a civil enforcer, because he had looked her up in the advent databases they were capable of access to after they got back, which was a fairly hefty request that he had been surprised the Commander approved without question.
Lorraine had often traded the lives of her fellow humans and even coworkers, just for perks and luxuries, to live a soft and comfortable life. He had wanted to go back in time and stab the bitch himself when he got to the part in her file that she had tried to sell out him and his brothers and their encampment when she first moved into the city, although they had already been packed and gone to xcom at that point, lucky for them. It was what had put her on the radar of civil enforcement in the first place.
He didn’t quite know what he was going to say to Nihlus, though, when he found him. The blame was no longer entirely on Jet, and it hadn’t been since Kix had been promoted to Captain, the gap in their power of their command on the ship diminishing somewhat. No, as much as he hated to admit it, Margo was just a little right. He hadn’t been a coward in fearing Jet, he thinks, because yea, still the second deadliest guy he knew, but he had definitely been a coward, because with as long and as hard as he had been avoiding the templar, he didn’t think he would get the warmest reception, so even when he had been fairly sure it wouldn’t get him killed, it had been so much easier just to stay away. Had gotten into the habit of it, even.
He didn’t deserve the warmest reception from the templar, but he hoped he could get an apology out before he got a fist to the face? The least they could do is work their way back to civil terms, if for no other reason than the ship was not the most massive place and he would like to stop retreating when he was just trying to exist, for fear of running into or being approached by the man.
-
Kix… couldn’t find Nihlus anywhere. Not even the avengers logs could tell him where the templar had disappeared off to, which was odd. His last location check had been in the bar and then just… nothing. His location stopped pinging pretty much right after he left.
That… worried him, some, for sure. Because if he wasn’t on the ship, and he hadn’t been sent on a mission, and he hadn’t, then where was he?
He thanked his lucky graces when he saw the Commander approaching from the end of the hall, a strange grin on his face as he stared down at his tablet. If anyone knew where the Nihlus was, it would be the Commander. And if he didn’t, then something was very, very wrong.
“Sir-” Kix started as he stood in the Commander's path, saluting as he tried to get his attention
“He’s on the roof taking a phone call, there aren’t any location sensors up there because no one is supposed to be up there when we’re in flight, but it’s clear enough, tonight, and we’re parked, and the sky is beautiful” The Commander interrupted, glancing up at him, and Kix could see his sclera was a blazing red, in stark contrast to his almost glowing piercing blue eyes. Right. Right, yea, the Commander was also one of those psychic types. And right now, based on his look and smell, Kix thought he might also be stoned as hell.
The Commander grinned at him as he stood in brief silence before saying, “Tell Volt when his next batch is ready, my beds all his again. He did a great job this time,” and then he walked off, leaving Kix to puzzle out what the hell that was about, because…
Was the Commander fucking Nihlus for drugs???
Kix had thought the Commander and Bradford had a thing going on? And even if they didn’t, why would the Commander just tell him that? And it’s not like it changed much? Kix had no claim over Nihlus.
But what else could that have meant?
-
Nihlus took a drag off his fifth joint of the night, as he listened to his daughter ramble on about her day on the other end of the comm, wind calm enough for both as the Commander had ordered the Avenger to… hover in place for him, until he was done. Offering to smoke out the Commander in exchange for various perks around the ship anytime he managed to get some weed delivered to them from his little home growery at templar hq had honestly been nothing but a good decision, well worth the trade. And Nina was doing an amazing job with the plants while he was gone. Green thumb, just like her father.
“So then I hit it with a bolt because the damn thing wouldn’t stop charging at us and just die, and I was really hoping it would smell like bacon, you know? But the boar had so much fur it just smelled like when we tortured that one guy,”
“Right,” Nihlus replied as he exhaled, “the advent guy with hair like a gorilla,”
“Yea, just like that guy smelled, maybe a bit more like dirt, but anyways, I thought it was dead, even though it was twitching a little because you know how they twitch sometimes with lightning,”
Nihlus hummed in affirmation as he took another hit, Nina continuing,
“But then I get closer to it, and the damn thing hops up and charges at me again! Ripped a hole straight through my pants! Almost got my leg! And at this point I was wondering if Oscar’s Moms tacos were even going to be worth trying to kill the fucking beast-”
And Nihlus turned to the sound of the lift doors sliding open behind him, whispers of a familiar mind echoing gently.
“Babygirl, did you spike my weed with anything?” Nihlus interrupted his daughter as his eyes met with Kix’s, who wore the strangest look on his face
“Uh, no? Why?”
“Because… I think Kix is actually about to talk to me. Something must be up, I’ll… call you back,” He said as the medic began to walk his way, hanging up the call
Nihlus took a drag, and leaned back on the railing. “Fett.” and then he exhaled, blowing the smoke at Kix's feet, “What do you want?”
“Two months ago your company leader threatened to kill me if I talked to you again. Apparently, Margo says that’s no longer in place, so I’m here to apologize. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
And Nihlus blinked at him because he had honest to god expected him to be here to try and buy weed off him too. He took a hit. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that, though?
He exhaled, “Why would he do that?”
Kix crossed his arms, “He didn’t like how I spoke to you when I thought you murdered Lorraine. Which I’m… also sorry about,” and Kix rubbed the back of his neck, “never did say sorry for that one, you didn’t deserve that, you saved my life.”
Huh. Inhale. Jet was trying to do some micromanaging in his life behind his back? His immediate reaction to someone disrespecting him was death threats? That was… that’s-
“That’s so sweet of him,” Nihlus replied, exhaling. He really was treating Nihlus just like family, an actual, proper little brother. It warmed him inside, but, “I’ll cut his trigger finger off if he does it again,” because the last two months sucked.
The look on Kix's face as he spoke was hilarious. He snorted as he listened closer to Kix hidden whispers, easier to do when no one else was around. The medic was wondering why not even the adopted Eldars knew how to be fucking normal about lying and manipulation.
Nihlus almost choked on the hit he had been taking, and once he regained control of himself he said, “Did you really come to the ‘going out on suicidally dangerous missions and brutally killing aliens’ organization expecting rational and grounded people?”
“When no one else is really trying to fight the aliens, you’d think we are the only sane people still around,” The medic replied, thinking of his late Ex, of all those people living in the city centers, living every day of their lives as if they weren’t one wrong word away from a bullet to the brain.
Nihlus hummed again in reply, and then sighed, because he’d smoked this joint to the bone, and he only had one more left for the night. And it surprisingly sounded like Kix wanted to keep talking to him. And the strangest part was, Nihlus thought as he brought out his last joint and started to light it, that the medic had only the mildest of sexual intentions about it, despite their history. If you could even call a single blowie a history.
Nihlus leaned his head back as he studied the medic, exhaling. Genuine interest?
“What the fuck do you want, Fett? Like” and Nihlus waved his hand some, “what do you actually want from me? Because can't be that you actually want to know me? If it was, you would have tried before Jet stopped you. Or is it the temptation of something you couldn’t have that drives you to seek me out now that you think you can?”
“Maybe I do just want to get to know you.” The medic said defiantly, and strangely. truthfully, because he hadn’t come up here expecting to be able to get any action, because Kix thought he was-
This time Nihlus did choke on his lungful of smoke and it took him almost a full minute to regain his breath again, before he said, incredulously, “You think I’m fucking the Commander?”
“His bed?” was all Kix said, and okay, okay, yea, when the Commander had put it like that, but,
“Do you have any idea how loud a room full of peoples thoughts are when you’re trying to sleep on a whelp of a mattress? He’s not in his bed when I am.”
And Nihlus couldn’t help but be puzzled by the concern he felt from Kix, “Do you usually have trouble sleeping?” because wow, Kix had been tracking him? And knew where he usually slept. Which was the troop barracks. And if he was in there all the time, then he would have problems wouldn’t he? Kix figured.
It should have surprised Nihlus less than it did, “You’ve been following me?” Inhale
Kix put his hands up, “Not really, opposite, actually, I've been avoiding you, mostly.” said as almost a chuckle
Oh right, because that made it all better, exhale, Nihlus was so glad the medic could take practically abandoning him so lightly.
“You really have a lot of nerve, Fett. What do you want? Drugs? Sex? Power? You aren’t here for friendship, you think I’m some crazy disgusting freak and you don’t even like me, Jet’s orders must have been a blessing for you, So what the fuck do you want?!” Nihlus finished with an angry Jab into Kix's chest, flinging ash on him before Nihlus stepped back, turned around, and took another hit, trying to calm himself.
Nihlus was more mad at himself than this man standing behind him. He knew what people thought of him, could usually hear it, knew his ability to do so was part of the general population's dislike of him as a whole. Nihlus also knew the way he thought wasn’t particularly normal either, his processes or his conclusions. He was called disturbing more times than he could count. No, Kix's dislike of him didn’t shock him. But he had wanted Kix to like him, had thought maybe he could make it work if he tried hard enough.
He wanted to snap something into pieces. Hope was a treacherous thing that would bleed you dry, and he had been weeping like a stuck pig for months.
“I’m sorry,” Kix replied simply, and Nihlus didn’t catch more than that in his thoughts, because he had stopped listening. He wanted to be over this already. He wanted to be done being yanked around.
Nihlus let his head drop before shaking it after taking another hit, “Why would you be?” Exhale. “I’m not wrong, and you’re not denying it”
“Because I want to like you, so I need to get to know you so I can, but I’ve really been dragging my ass on that. We should talk more, now that I wont die from it,” and Nihlus started listening again, only to be stunned with the realization that Kix may not like him, but he was endlessly fascinated with him. Had made liking Nihlus a challenge that he would achieve, by hell or high water.
“You are wrong about one thing though,” Kix said lowly as he had stepped forwards and besides Nihlus, laying a hand on Nihlus lower back, on the bare Kevlar now that he had taken off his harness. Ballsy motherfucker, he was, “I don’t think you’re disgusting. Quite the opposite, actually.”
Nihlus turned his head to look at the smirking medic, and blew smoke into his awful, handsome face, because he didn’t deny the crazy freak part, not that he was wrong about that one.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Nihlus stated, because he could feel the desire still sitting deep in the man, and he wouldn’t be a booty call after Kix had been such an ass. He was not going to let the man worm his way back in just to be a quick fuck.
But Kix was steady, confident, that… wasn’t his goal, “I don’t expect you to, what you choose to do is your own decision,” what was his goal here?
Nihlus pointed his finger in Kix's face, and said almost accusingly, “but you still want it,”
And the bastard just shrugged, although he still hadn’t taken his hand off Nihlus' back, “I want a lot of things I won’t shed tears over not getting. Hope we can get back to friendly, though.” and… that was his goal. He wanted Nihlus to like him again.
Kix genuinely wanted to repair what he had broken.
Nihlus… offered him the joint. He wanted Kix back. Even after all these months the medic still had Nihlus down bad without needing to do a damn thing to get him there. It was as close to a peace offering he was going to give him, though. Because his refusal to acknowledge Nihlus whole existence had still hurt more than one night's worth of ‘sorry’ and some flirting.
Kix took it with the hand that had been holding the railing, and met Nihlus gaze as he watched his lips curl around his fingers at the end of the paper, the light dip of smoke swirling around his head, as Kix inhaled deeply; And then took the arm which had been wrapped around Nihlus back, and used it to turn his head to him, and settled his thumb on Nihlus lower lip, leaning forwards.
And Nihlus thought for almost certain he was about to kiss him. And… Nihlus was going to let him do it, by the gods he was weak for it, but he was going to let Kix kiss him. Practically craved it. But once the medic was hovering less than an inch away, and Nihlus had parted his lips, leaned into it, Kix just… gently blew the smoke into his mouth, and leaned back with that damned smirk.
“The Commander was right,” The infernal tempter said, moving his hand down to Nihlus waist, “this is a pretty good batch, where’d you get it?” taking another hit before offering it back to Nihlus, who kinda wished Kix was horrible at smoking so he would have been able to taste him on the end of the joint. Unfortunately, dry as a whistle. Also unfortunately, Kix seemed to be nowhere near as out of his depth here as Nihlus was.
Nihlus cleared his throat, “I uh, we. I grow it. Always been good with plants. My- I have someone taking care of them at the moment, and she knows what she’s doing.”
“Someone huh? You have a someone?” and Kix was trying to measure out in his head if Nihlus was taken, if not by the commander than by anyone. He wanted to know if Nihlus was pursuable past the flirting.
“She’s not like that,” Nihlus replied, and he had no idea what possessed him to say next, “I’m very gay and very single.”
“Oh,” Kix replied lofty, “That’s… good to know,” and he was mentally noting Nihlus down as very available
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Nihlus repeated, firmly, knowing it was an absolute lie if Kix decided to test it
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to,” said the bastard who seemed to have learned the rules of the game. Because he knew Nihlus wanted him to. But he wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move now that Nihlus had laid the line.
And that was… comforting. Because Kix was definitely planning to toe the line, but he wasn’t going to push it.
They finished the joint, standing in relatively comfortable silence, and Nihlus… let Kix hand stay exactly where it was. And maybe it was the touch, and maybe it was the weed, but Nihlus was feeling ballsy enough to lay his head back on Kix's shoulder and let himself relax as they gazed out onto the horizon.
Their beautiful little intimate moment was interrupted by Nina calling him back on the phone. He let it ring for a good three minutes before Kix finally looked down at it and asked,
“Should I give you some privacy for that?”
And Nihlus let out a long suffering sigh because, “She’s definitely not going to stop calling until I answer it, so probably. Hell if I know where she gets it from,” he finished under his breath, mourning the loss of Kix's arm from around his waist. It was getting a little chilly in the late evening air, and his warmth had been more than a small comfort. He would have to go in soon anyways, though. The Avenger did have places to be.
“Alright. You… Want to meet for lunch tomorrow? At 1400 maybe?”
Nihlus titled his head with a smirk, “Maybe I’ll be there.” because he was still allowed to be a little petty. Kix had ignored him for two whole months.
If he wasn’t so enamored by him, the ease of the medics bright smile in return would have annoyed him because there was just no phasing him
“I’ll see you later then, have a good night, Nihlus,” Kix said as he stepped back further and prepared to turn away and go back inside
Nihlus thought about grabbing his arm, of pulling him back and giving in and kissing him until they were breathless, now that it seemed to be an option. But… his daughter was calling, and he needed to give whatever this was some time and some space and not immediately dive right back into the deep end.
So instead, he replied to the medics retreating back, “Goodnight, Kix.” And tried not to regret letting him walk away as he picked up the phone.
There was always lunch tomorrow to do it, if he really wanted to test those waters.
Also heres an Xcom poster of the Boys
#star wars clone wars#star wars#kix#clone medic kix#xcom#xcom 2#sith oc#templar oc#war of the chosen#weed#should i tag weed#its there#for sure#nihlus tag#kix tag#margo tag#does 5 joints seem like too much weed? my tolerence is so fucking high nowadays.#and im not the one that grows the stuff#my art#one of these days I'll figure this art thing out
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@frcstie ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ: “You’re lying. You’re fucking lying!” Sanemi screams. He sounds like a child, crying over some toy he wasn’t allowed to get. But, it’s not that. He’s staring at his little brother, or what is said to be him. “My fucking brother died! With the rest of ‘em.” The rest of his family, all dead because of his quirk. “You sayin’ you’re him? I’ll fucking kill you.” // unprompted
❝I-It’s me, ‘Nemi! I promise!❞ Genya cries out, stammered voice warbled slightly by the set of small speakers in his helmet.
This was supposed to be a routine patrol in Snipe’s district, the end of Genya’s first year in Shiketsu Academy marked with his Provisional License and a short work study with a hero who could help him. — But such things never seem to go to plan around Genya.
A commotion had gained his attention two streets over and it had been his duty to investigate as a Hero-in-Training. His arrival had sent him face to face with someone he hadn’t seen in close to ten years: his brother. Sanemi was covered in more scars than Genya could count now, the massive X spanning across his open chest a warning to anyone who dared to come closer, but he was still undoubtedly his Nemi.
It’s understandable that Genya wouldn’t be recognized, not like this. He is covered head to toe in UV-blocking fabric, even his voice different from the decade they spent apart. Was this it? Was he going to lose Sanemi all over again? His hands shake in their gloves as he holds them out to show he meant to harm and had no weapons. Katana and twin shotguns sit at his lower back, guns loaded. He was somewhat aware of how Sanemi’s quirk worked, but that was so long ago. Was he quick enough to... Was he strong-willed enough to...?
Shuddered exhale leaves him. His heart pounds in his chest so loudly it feels like the only thing he can hear. ❝I... I-I know, ‘Nemi...❞ What can he do? What, if anything, will Sanemi listen to now? ❝Your name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and your birthday is November 29th. You have six siblings... Hiroshi, Sumi, Teiko, Koto, Shuya and... a-and me.❞
Slowly his hands move to grip the sides of his helmet, each action he made deliberate and conscious to not further anger Sanemi. This was a risk, more than a risk. This was a death sentence for someone who can’t use their quirk in the daylight, the sun directly above him in the midst of afternoon. Helm is pulled off and dropped onto the asphalt with a clatter. He doesn’t even check to see if the visor cracked, though it sounds like it did.
There. His face. This should convince him, right? He feels exposed in the sun, his hands still up in a way that left him defenseless if Sanemi decided to use that blade to his advantage. This had to work. He didn’t have any other options.
❝You... You have me! You have me still, ‘Nemi. Please listen. I’m not lying, I swear it!❞
#frcstie#ic. ɢᴇɴʏᴀ#verse. ɢᴇɴʏᴀ | ʙɴʜᴀ → you can’t help what your heart has longed for.#answered.#this made me smad.#i need food now because i'm so smad.
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He gets out for the first time in 25 years and she picks him up, her new boyfriend in the shotgun seat, a baby soft hand on her thigh. The finely dressed prick was someone Nicky had written him about, an overly possessive jack ass who had beaten her into staying with him. The first letter had sent him into a rage, he’d broken his hand punching the cement block wall.
Jack stood, watching the car pull up, the glaring face of the bastard glue to the window. He gritted his teeth and carefully opened the back door and eased in, his bulk settling heavily on the seat. “It’s good to see you J.” her bright green eyes met his in the rearview mirror. He saw the bruise, surrounding her eye and lost it.
The bastard, now ex boyfriend, stood on the curb, holding a broken arm, bloody nose and absolutely terrified of the bulky ex-Inmate now sitting in the shotgun seat. Nicky drove quietly, small tears rolling down her cheeks. “Vick, pull over.” His voice was stern and soft. She did as he said without questions. He opened his door and got out and move to her side, picking her up and settling in the backseat with her.
He stroked her hair softly, “Why’d you let that son of a bitch hit you Vick?” He gently touched the bruise. She flinched, “I didn’t let him Jack, he cornered me and when I tried to get away he tied me up and beat the shit out of me.” She mumbled the words, lifting her eyes to his. His eyes burned with rage, even after 25 years he’d never lost the love and desire to protect that he had for Vicky. She saw him as a brother, not a love. He swallowed hard, “Well I’m back and no man will every hit you again as long as I’m around. Besides, you deserve better Vick.” He hugged her, relishing the feeling of her against his chest.
The car parked in front of Vicky’s house, there were several other cars and a crowd of people, “What’s going on Vick? He asked. She smiled teasingly, “Were throwing you a welcome home party big boy. All your friends are here.” She got out and headed inside, and he admired the sway of her ass and her delicious curves. He got out of the car, his bag over his shoulder as he was greeted by all the people that had abandoned him when he was incarcerated. He put on a fake smile and went inside.
The music thumped, familiar faces passing by with beers and solo cups of wine, he drank water, watching Vicky move around the room. She was just as beautiful, and even more curvy than when he went in. He sighed, glancing at his once best friend, Joe, the guy who had lied on the stand and got him put in prison. Joe was leaning on the wall next to Vicky, and when he slipped his hand under her shirt and she slapped him, he grabbed her my the throat shoving his hand down her leggings and she squealed trying to get away.
Jake saw crimson, and before anyone saw him move his hand was wrapped around Joe’s throat, “If you or anyone fucking touches her like that again I swear to God I’ll kill you.” His words were cold, and he wasn’t afraid of the going back to prison. Joe slumped to the ground and left, everyone else giving Vicky space. He dragged her upstairs to his old room.
The room was the same as it had been 25 years ago, simple and functional. He pinned her against the wall, “Listen Vicky, you’re a grown woman and all, but regardless of how you feel about me, I’m not going to let some fucking asshole violate or hurt you like that. I’ve been protecting you since we were kids. I’m not going to stop now.” He growled the words, inches from her lips, staring hard into her eyes. She glared at him, “You’re not my boyfriend Jake, and you’re not my brother. You had no right to do that to Joe.” Her voice was angry, her little hands balled into fists.
He smirked, the friendly façade falling away, “You’re right Vick, I’m neither of those things, but I’ll tell you, dressing they way you do and those fucking pictures you sent me, was begging to be fucked. So, you’re going to shut your mouth unless I’m fucking your face and I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for. I’ve waited 25 years to see you again, and I’m not going to bury my feelings any more.” He picked her up and tossed her on the bed, unceremoniously ripping the leggings and tank top from her body, the sound of shredding fabric ringing around the room.
She trembled as he pinned her against the bed, his big hands groping her heavy breasts and running over her body. This was a side of Jake she had never seen, he was going to fuck her , and she felt a twinge of fear, “Jake, wait, I’m a …. A virgin. .” she uttered the words softly and he froze, his big hand resting on her belly. “You’re a what?” He asked before stepping back, shock and awe crossing his face. “I can’t do this to you Vick, I’m sorry, Jesus Christ I almost lost it.” He covered his face with his hands, rubbing with a groan. She lay there, her virgin pussy dripping onto the sheets. “Jake … I need it .. look at me, look what you did to me.” Her voice rang with desperation.
He turned and looked at her, staring at her face, seeing the need there, her breasts heaving with each breath, down her body to the soft mound between her legs where sticky cream dripped onto his sheets. He groaned, “Fuck Vick, is that from me? Or Joe?” He asked praying to God it was all for him. She flushed, “It’s always you Jake, I wanted to be your girl before you went in. Hell, I was trying to save myself for you.” Her voice shook. He stood there, shocked, “You’ve been saving yourself for me … your v-card for me?” He asked, disbelief in his voice. She nodded flushing red.
He came back to the bed, the possessive nature coming back. His big hands settling on her silky soft thighs, “Vick, it’s gonna hurt, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel good.” He groaned, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants. She gasped softly at the sight of his cock, about 9 inches and thick, her pussy contracting, cream dripping from the slit. He rested the head against her opening, the cream covering it.
He squeezed her thighs and took a deep breath, “Here I come baby.” He pressed forward, easing into her as she moaned and squirmed. He hissed as he slowly tore through her hymen, sinking in to the hilt. She whimpered and flinched, but gasped as he bottomed out, filling her completely.
He gritted his teeth, “Now that your comfortable, I’m going to fuck you like the pretty little slut you are Vicky. Beg me for it, tell me you want me to fuck you after 25 years.” He growled the words. She bit her lip, pussy squeezing around his cock, “Please Jake, please fuck me like your little slut. I’ve been waiting 25 years for you to fuck me, to claim me as your own.” Her voice was a whisper. He kissed her hard and slammed back into her, pounding without mercy, his pelvis slapping into her, cock bruising her cervix with every thrust.
She clung to his shoulders, every thrust jarring her, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through her. “Jake, Jesus Jake, please …. I’m gonna cum Jake.” She pleaded desperately her body trembling at the overstimulation. He grunted, her tight walls contracting on his cock as she came, “That’s a good girl Vick, are you ready for me to pump you full of cum?” He gripped her hips tightly as he jackhammered against her smashing his lips against hers as he came.
She lay limp in his arms, snuggled against his chest, “What now Jake?” her voice was soft. He pulled her closer, possessively, “Now Vick you’re mine. There’s no going back. You’re my good girl, my dirty little slut, and my woman, my beautiful, curvy, sexy woman,” his voice was purring in her ear, his cock stirring again, “I’m really going to enjoy exploring your sexy side Vicky, maybe you’ll call me daddy and let me breed that tight little cunt.” He nibbled her neck, thrusting gentle again, fucking the first load of cum deeper into her.
She moaned softly, “Yes daddy, please, there’s so much I want you to do to me.” He groaned, “Fuck that’s a good girl, I’ll give you everything you want baby girl.” He thrust harder, arms tightening around her. A soft knock on the door, “Fuck.” He snarled, pulling the comforter over them, arms tightening round her, “Come in.” his voice was laced with anger. The door barely cracked open and the voice of Joe came from the crack, “Just wanted to apologize and tell Y’all we’re all leaving, the uh… noises were louder than the music.” He quickly shut the door and his footsteps headed down the stairs.
She flushed and hid her face against his chest, “They heard us Jake.” She whispered, looking up at him. He laughed, “I don’t care Vicky, I want the world to hear you scream my name. I want every man to know who you belong to.” He kissed her, thrusting again, feeling her convulse around him. She whimpered arms reaching back, fingers curling in his hair, “Jake, you feel so good, please daddy, I need you “ her voice rang in his ears and he started thrusting faster, fucking her.
Her face was pressed into the pillow, ass up as he pounded into her, wet squelching and slapping noises echoing in the room. He slapped her ass, the soft, creamy white cheeks turning a soft pink with every slap, “What a good girl Vick, your greedy little pussy is begging me to cum.” He drug his fingernails down her back, leaving little red trails. She moaned and whimpered into the pillow, unable to form sentences. He chuckled, slamming deep one last time before dumping a second load inside her. They collapsed again, both groaning, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
The sun was bright, the sounds of children playing echoing around the house. Vicky sat in a rocking chair, nursing a newborn baby girl. Jake walked in, covered in dirt and paint ball stains, “Those little shits we made absolutely destroyed me.” He was smiling, voice full of laughter as the two boys, only a year apart, raced past him. She smiled, “Your girls needed a break from the sunshine, and she was hungry.” She rocked the newborn and he groaned softly, “My beautiful girls. Maybe daddy is hungry too.” He smirked winking at her, remembering the first time he nursed on mothers milk from her swollen breast. She flushed, “Not in front of the kids Jake.” Her voice dripped with need and he laughed, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you tonight.” He kissed her deeply, tweaking the free nipple, eliciting a moan and a wet spot on her shirt.
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Jeff the Killer vs The Rake (1997 Edition)
by Anonymous
Yet another versus story... sorta. This time pitting Jeff against another Creepypasta icon, The Rake, the man eating long clawed hunter cam hairless demon that got more movies than Jeff (suck it)
In all honestly I missed a piece of text and for a time i pressumed this was a time travel story, hence the 1997 title, it instead happens on 2012
cw// murder, violence, genital mention, slashing
Click below to read the original unedited story
JEFF THE KILLER
VS.
THE RAKE
Go To Sleep
I was on my way to Harvard University with my girlfriend, Kate. We were driving in the ’12 Mustang my dad bought before he was murdered. You see, I was a farm boy from Kansas *sigh* me and my dad would always set scarecrows in the field where he worked most of the year. My brother and I fought about who would set the scarecrow for Halloween that year (1997) about half a mile away from the farmhouse. I was chosen by dad to set it up. I carried the shitty little ‘crow through the field to an empty post. I climbed up, with the scarecrow on my back, and readied to fix the ‘crow unto the post. Just done with one hook, some… THING pulled from the post into the grass. I went down screaming, as that thing ripped the scarecrow apart. I was struggling to get the damned thing off my back, as that animal was pulling as hard as it could.
I finally slipped the scarecrow, still screaming for my dad. I could hear him yelling for me. I looked back and saw it. A man hunched over, with talons in place of fingernails. He appeared to be a starving old man, who looked to be over 100 years old. He… sorry, IT charged me, as I looked into its black sockets for eyes. Dad showed with his sawed-off shotgun, “Pacemaker”, but it was too fast for him. One of its talons pierced his chest, while Pacemaker’s bullet pierced the old man’s chest. Both fell to the ground, dead. Or so I thought.
When the police arrived, they didn’t find that man’s body. Nor did they find any corpse at the crime scene. All they found was Pacemaker, which the police gave to me, and a sentence. It was a threat, left by the “Old Man”. “Your father killed me. Now I’m going to kill YOU!”
Anyway, we decided to stop in Ohio, overnight at a motel. It was crappy, but we didn’t care. We didn’t care the clerk smelled like diarrhea and alcohol. We were in love.
Immediately we jumped in bed and started to kiss. We embraced what little time we had at the motel. “I have to take a shower, I’ll be right back.” She walked into the bathroom; I fell back on the bed thinking about what we would do together. *Sigh* I pulled out an innocent looking box, opened it, and looked at the treasure that I would have presented to her. A beautiful ring topped off with two polished pearls. *sigh* Marriage would have been the best thing for us. If Jeff didn’t come along it would have been different. Somehow, he snuck through the bathroom window. I jumped up from bed when I heard Kate screaming. It wasn’t terror, no, it was pain and suffering. I slowly put my ear to the bathroom door, and heard, “Go… To… SLEEP!!!” I heard the knife plunge into Kate’s body several times.
The shower kept going. Her screaming stopped.
I heard the mirror shatter; then the intruder rushed towards the door punching a hole through. He kept punching down the door, ripping it apart trying to reach me. That’s when he stopped and looked at me, I saw his face. A creepy ass expression! “The Killer” had these dark little eyes with large dark circles around them. He wore this impossibly large smile on his face. Then he continued destroying the door down until there wasn’t any more door left to destroy. His eyes flashed down to mine, and he slowly walked towards me. I slowly backed up, until my back met with the wall. The maniac stopped for a few seconds, then leaped on top of me, with his knife aimed at my heart. “Go. TO…”
I had Pacemaker out and aimed the killer’s testicles. “I’m going to your blow your balls all over this room. Now Get the Fuck off me!” He listened and got up away me. “Now drop the knife!” The evil bastard stood there with his mouth open, “Die! Die! Die!” He shouted. The Killer leaped towards his knife. I aimed and I fired. He had snatched his knife up, and flung it towards my head. I deflected it and I fired again. He ducked; then he tackled me out the 1st story window, landing on the pavement. I bruised my heel, while he twisted his kneecap. I writhed in pain. “Ouch!!! Well, what are you…?” I looked back up unto my 1st story room, past the man I know as Jeff the Killer, and saw that “Old Man” from 15 years ago!
I failed to contain a scream, which woke up the tenant. He came out with a glock in his drawers, and covered with a hotel bathrobe.
“What the hell is going here? I’m trying to sleep!!” Just as soon as he finished ranting, The “Old Man” did something impossible. He jumped off the 1st story floor, landed on his feet, looked toward the tenant, and pounced on top of him. I saw the way that thing dug into his flesh. Shots fired. The screaming ceased. Then I remembered the warning, “Your father killed me. Now I’m going to kill you!”
When he was done tearing apart the piece of meat that was the tenant, he faced me. Jeff barked, “Uh-Uh! I saw him first, you freak!” The “Old Man” slowly turned to face Jeff. “Yeah! I’m talking to you! What’re you going to about it?”
The creature charged Jeff in an instant, started slashing at his chest. Jeff kept swinging his knife at it, but that thing didn’t care. It knew he couldn’t really it. The Monster was too fast for Jeff.
“Hold still!” Jeff was getting pissed off. His swings were getting faster. But even the greatest killer makes mistakes. The “Old Man” finally got a sufficient hit in, and went for a gut blow to Jeff’s stomach. The Killer dropped to the ground.
“Well! Hit Me! C’mon! HIT ME!!!”
I fired Pacemaker at the “Old Man”. It instantly dropped to the ground. I couldn’t believe it. I finally killed that old bastard! I really did it! I then walked over to Jeff. He had internal bleeding, but it wasn’t serious. I kneeled over Jeff; the sick fuck was still smiling at me.
“Well, you got me kid. Are you going to finish me?”
“Nope. I won’t.”
I knocked Jeff out with the butt of Pacemaker. He wouldn’t trouble me anymore. But I know he would just get madder and kill me so I didn’t then the “Old Man” attacked Jeff throwing him throw a wall Jeff’s knife was right next to me and the “Old Man” was going towered me. I grabbed it and he jumped so I stabbed it, it didn’t even flitch. Then right wean I thought it was all over I saw Jeff walk out and grab the peacemaker the “Old Man” heard him and started to run toured him wean it was close to him Jeff let off a shot and hit the thing right in the head it being scared it ran off Jeff ran after it I heard the whole thing. Jeff said
“Shhhhhh it’s time to go to sleep.”
Then let off some more shots entail the thing was in to. Jeff pick up his knife and started walking to me he said with an evil smile on his face and said know wasn’t that fun and just walked away I didn’t question it he spared my life maybe because I spared his I don’t know but I never saw him after that day.
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It’s Not Everest (No Vacancy)
The neon “NO” is hidden behind an overgrown shrub, so Dean pulls the Impala into the motel parking lot before they can see that it is, in fact, lit.
“Awesome.” Dean says in a tone that clearly doesn’t think so, and whips the car around to pull back onto the dark road. They immediately hit a pothole and Sam’s head bumps the ceiling.
“Ow, wait, Dean, we didn't go check with the office, maybe they just left the sign lit because they can’t freaking see it–”
“No, Sam, every goddamn motel in this godless town is full up and I don’t particularly feel like walking into another musty fucking office just to have them tell me I need to learn how to read. It’s too damn late, I’m too damn tired, I’m just gonna find a pull-off where the cops won’t feel the need to be our 5AM wake-up call and we’re sleeping in Baby. Fuck it.” He emphasizes the last sentence by throwing the car into park, all seventeen feet of shiny black metal successfully hidden behind a bank of tall, scraggly shrubs off the shoulder of the road. Dean kills the engine and the early summer evening rises to fill the silence with the musical stylings of several hundred crickets.
“Dean.”
“We’ve done it before, Sam.”
“I know we have. What about Cas?”
Dean looks over at the passenger’s side. Sitting shotgun, Cas looks back at him, his eyes just a dark glint in the moonlight.
“I can just... keep watch outside.” He says.
“Bad fucking idea.” Dean snaps. “I wake up in the middle of the night and see you out there lurking, I might shoot you between the eyes. You’re staying in the damn car.”
“Dean, there’s not enough roo–”
“Look, Sammy, passing out is passing out, sitting or lying down. This is a molehill, not Everest. I just need my four hours, damn.”
Dean crams up against the driver’s side door, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his bent knees against the back of the seat between himself and Cas. He’ll worry about bootprints on the leather upholstery when he isn’t so fucking exhausted.
“Jerk.” Sam mutters from the backseat, almost inaudible.
“Goodnight, bitch.”
“Goodnight, Dean. Sam.” Cas murmurs.
“Don’t make it weird, Cas.”
"Goodnight, Cas."
"Thank you, Sam."
Dean gives a little huff through his nose. Cas folds his hands in his lap and turns his head forward to watch the fireflies.
Dean doesn’t like it when Cas watches him sleep. Cas knows this.
But if he doesn't want eyes on him, he shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to himself. This is the fourth time inside of an hour that he’s shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, six feet of full-grown man trying to figure out how to make three feet work for him.
It's clearly not working out.
Dean's head has fallen against Castiel’s arm. He’s snoring gently, Cas can feel his breath warm through the sleeve of his trench coat.
He shuts his eyes. Pulls his focus down to just this, the upper lefthand side of his body. Feels the weight of Dean's head, the unyielding shape of his skull, the softness of his cheek. Cas turns his head towards him, just to better assess the situation. Not at all to feel the soft tickle of Dean’s hair against his nose and lips. That’s just an... accidental consequence.
Cas feels too big for his own skin. It’s something a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent should be entirely familiar with, but this isn't the feeling of cramming a Chrysler building into a 5-foot-11-inch frame.
This is bigger than that.
The slump of Dean’s body across the seat means that his head is the only thing supported, and it has his neck at a bad angle. If Dean's an angry sleeper, he's even worse with a crick in his neck and Cas doesn't love the idea of being stuck in a car with that tomorrow. He can't pull Dean more flush against his side without the risk of waking him and sending him into a conniption of bruised heterosexuality, so instead, he carefully lifts his arm. It works perfectly: Dean slides forward, falling to lying down with his head in Cas' lap.
The effect is immediate. The uncomfortable pinch between Dean's brows smooths away and he takes a deep, slow breath, settling against his new pillow and sinking into an easier sleep.
Cas hasn't realized he's smiling, yet. It's a tiny, soft thing, the one he gets when he's looking at something precious.
He is.
The moonlight catches the sweep of Dean's eyelashes, the top of his cheek, the shell of his ear, gilding them silver. His lips are parted, plush and dark in the contrast of the pale light. He's slightly curled up on the bench seat and Cas knows it's to fit the small space but that doesn't mean it's not the most fucking endearing thing he's ever seen.
The short hair over Dean's ear is mussed from the way he was slumped like a grumpy turtle past the collars of his shirt and jacket. Delicate, Cas brushes it right again.
Dean shifts, pressing up into his ghost of a touch. Cas draws back, afraid he's been caught doing something definitely not on Dean's approved list of Things Just Friends Do, but Dean doesn't wake. Cas' hand hovers.
He shouldn't. He should return to looking out of the front windshield and prepare the diffusion for when Dean wakes up to find himself sleeping in Cas' lap. That's what he should do.
The trouble is, nothing short of a fucking catastrophe could pull his eyes away from this. Dean is so beautiful, so calm and easy in his slumber, and he's right here, safe and close and warm. Literally right in his lap.
Cas pets Dean's hair, feeling that dangerous constriction again, something so huge and profound it might very well burst him. Dean sleeps on.
"You should tell him."
Sam's voice from the backseat is so quiet it's barely a whisper, but it startles Cas like a gunshot. He turns his head a margin to find Sam watching him, head and shoulders against the back driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest.
"Did you say something?" Cas tries, matching Sam's barely-there whisper.
"You heard me."
"Tell him what?"
"You love him."
Cas turns his head further so he's not just looking at Sam out of his periphery. There's nothing accusatory in Sam's tone, quiet as it is, or in his posture, cramped as it may be. He looks back at Cas with nothing but the same easy camaraderie he's always shown him, like they're discussing a good book or the lovely weather, not a complete paradigm shift.
In his lap, Dean tucks one hand under Cas' thigh and nuzzles his face deeper against the fabric of his pants. Cas looks down at him again and feels ready to explode into several new galaxies.
"I can't." He breathes.
"Why not?"
"You know your brother, Sam.” Cas says, unable to stop himself from stroking light fingers through Dean’s hair again. “And I’m happy. I refuse to risk losing him in pursuit of something I don’t need from him.”
“You’re right, I do know my brother. Probably better than he’d like to believe.” Sam says. “And I think he might surprise you, given the chance.”
Cas looks back at Sam like he wants to argue, but then just closes his mouth, his jaw bunching. Sam gives a little shrug and sits forward, reaching behind himself for the door handle.
“Just some, uh… food for thought.” He says. “I’m gonna hit the head. I’ll take my time. No particular reason.”
“Sam.”
But Sam’s already unfolding out into the night air, the car rocking as his weight shifts. The crickets are suddenly much louder, invading their little bubble of quiet. In Cas’ lap, Dean twitches.
Sam shuts the car door and Dean sits bolt upright. His gun, dropped in the footwell before he fell asleep, is in his grasp in a blink.
“Sam's just gone to relieve his bladder.” Cas says next to him. Dean squints at him and sniffs, wiping at his groggy eyes, then flicks the safety back on. The gun hits the footwell again with a dull thunk.
"God. Like a damn cashew. You'd think with all that height there'd be more... storage."
Cas is carefully looking forward, and not at the red mark on Dean’s cheek that’s the same shape as the warm spot rapidly cooling on his thigh. Dean rubs at that side of his face.
“Was I…?” He clears his throat. “Uh.”
“Asleep? Yes. I thought that was the idea.”
“Lying on you.”
“You needed to stretch out.”
Dean gives a frustrated sigh. “No, Cas, man, that’s your personal space. You should have shoved me off.”
“It was easier on your neck.” Cas says, still looking straight ahead. “You weren’t bothering me.”
“That’s not the point. You gotta have boundaries.”
“What’s mine is yours, Dean. I have no qualms sharing everything I have with you.”
Dean scoffs, leaning forward over the steering wheel and tilting to pop his spine. “Jesus. You ol’ romantic.”
Cas turns his head to look at Dean. The slightly uncomfortable smirk slowly slips off of Dean’s face. His eyes drop to Cas' lips before he catches himself, and he makes a weak attempt to laugh the charge out of the air between them.
“Man, you gotta figure out your levels. Last person who looked at me like that had me thinking marriage."
“Dean, why do you say things like that?”
Dean’s shoulders shove up under his ears. “You turn eyes like that on some innocent girl she’s gonna up and devote her entire life to you, Cas, I’m just letting you know you gotta tone it down!”
“Why would I turn eyes like this on some innocent girl?”
“Because you’re doin’ it to me like you think it’s a normal thing to do!”
“Dean, maybe you need to figure out how to receive a signal without assuming the other person isn't aware of what they're broadcasting." Cas snaps, then subsides as something like fear flickers across his face.
Dean’s jaw hangs uselessly for a stunned moment.
"Cas. You–"
Cas watches him in the manner of a gazelle waiting for a sudden deadly movement. Dean's gaze flits to Cas’ lips again.
"You. Uh." He says eloquently, and his tongue darts out in a nervous motion. This makes his lips impossible to ignore, shiny and wet in the moonlight.
“It's not Everest." Cas whispers.
"It kinda fuckin' is." Dean says, hoarse.
“Forget it. You should go back to sleep.” Cas says, reaching towards Dean with two fingers. It’s his fighter’s instinct that makes Dean grab them before they can touch his forehead, but it’s something else entirely that bunches his other hand in the front of Cas’ coat and yanks him forward. Cas tumbles gracelessly on top of Dean, and Dean doesn’t give either of them time to think.
At the first touch of Dean’s lips, Cas melts. A tiny sound escapes him, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan, and he’s grasping Dean’s shoulder like it’s the only thing preventing him from falling into the footwell. Their mouths part with a soft, wet noise and Cas meets Dean’s eyes, almost too close to focus on.
His arm is pressed across Dean’s chest from his fall. He can feel Dean’s heartbeat, galloping like an outlaw with the sheriff on his tail, and he understands the feeling.
“Dean.” He croaks.
“Yeah.”
“Do that again.”
Dean nuzzles their noses together, nudges Cas’ mouth in a barely-there brush of lips. Cas touches Dean’s face, dizzy with it, feeling stubble rough on the skin of Dean's jaw. He presses forward, holding Dean’s face like the beloved thing it is, and kisses him reverently. Dean sinks against the door until he’s lying across the seats and shoves his arms up under Cas’ suit jacket, encircling his back.
The crickets play them a love song. It’s entirely lost on them.
When Sam returns, approaching the Impala with caution, he finds his brother asleep with his angel hugged against him like a large, man-shaped teddy bear. Cas glances up, clocking the motion of Sam leaning over to peer through the driver’s window, and there’s a smile on his face that Sam’s never seen on him before.
If happy was what he had been, then this? This is pure, unfiltered bliss.
Sam slides carefully into the back seat and shuts the door as gently as he can.
“I’ll save my I Told You So, but only because you look so cute.” He whispers.
“Sam.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Read on Ao3
#destiel#suptober21#no vacancy#I had no intention to participate in this year's suptober but then#the prompt hit me like seventeen feet of vintage shiny black metal#oops#dean winchester#castiel#wren writes#ao3#fanfiction#fic rec#destiel fic rec#idiots figure it out#first kiss#fluff#grumpy dean#deancas#one shot#short n sweet#HAPPY 11 MONTHS#destiel anniversary#destiel is canon
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Can you do something with Bo Sinclair in his basement? Could be with his s/o or a victim
Bo Sinclair X Reader
Warnings: Dub-con themes/touching (no NSFW)
The Basement:
The room you sat in was dim and a little claustrophobic, which wasn’t surprising since you had been dragged down to a basement about half an hour earlier. You sat in the middle of the room on a chair with your ankles duct-taped to the legs and your wrists duct-taped to the arms, with a material gag in your mouth to stop you from making too much noise.
The room had no windows so the only light was coming from a dirty lightbulb that was swinging over your head. It wasn’t very bright but it was enough for you to make out the main features of the room. There was a table pushed up against the far wall in front of you with various items scattered over it, but you couldn’t make out the details of the items. You could also make out some sort of photos taped to the wall above the table but they were too far away and the room was too dim for you to make out the images.
During the half hour you were left to dwell on your situation, you thought back to how you ended up here. You had been invited on a road trip by an old school friend and some of her friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go but eventually talked yourself into it, and that trip brought you to the little town of Ambrose when the car broke down.
From the moment you arrived in the town you thought it was a little strange and eerily quiet but you couldn’t have expected just how sinister the secret it was hiding would be.
The sound of a heavy door opening behind you and slamming shut brought you out of your thoughts, filling you with panic again. You looked over your shoulder with wide eyes, seeing a man in mechanics coveralls and a baseball cap walking around you.
He didn’t even look at you, he went straight for the table against the wall opposite you, placing his shotgun down on it.
Of course, you recognised the man instantly. Bo Sinclair. The man who owned the garage, who had greeted you with southern charm and a handsome smile. He had been friendly, a flirt. Fuck, you had flirted with him.
“Your friends were...irritating and rude. Interrupting a funeral for a goddamn fanbelt” he man finally spoke up, still keeping his back to you, his tone filled with detest for your so-called friends. You glared at his back, you had felt sympathy for him before learning that it wasn’t a real funeral.
“Don’t worry, they’re all taken care of and Vincent is dealing with them. That just leaves you left and I’m going to take my time with you” Bo turned to you with a sinister smirk, “and I purposely saved you for last, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”
You spoke but it was muffled by your gag. Bo seemed amused by this but walked over to you, hooking his fingers under the material and pulling the gag out of your mouth, letting the material hang around your neck.
“Bite me” you spat, figuring you had nothing to lose at this point.
He just smirked, amused by your attitude considering your situation. He moved closer, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours. You tried to move your head back and away from him but he just followed you until you had nowhere else to go.
“Don’t tempt me” Bo flashed his teeth in a predatory manner and you could feel his breath fanning against your lips, making you shiver rather than cringe.
“Let me go” you pleaded quietly, uselessly pulling on the restraints.
“Still think you can save your friends?” Bo asked mockingly, tilting his head to the side.
“...they’re dead, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer. It was far too late for that.
“They are. Don’t worry, Vincent is taking care of them, just leaving you with me” his mock sincerity would normally make you roll your eyes but the threat of death was still too prominent in your mind.
“Let me go and I won’t tell anyone about this place” you tried to strike some sort of deal, grasping at any opportunity.
“You don’t seem all that beaten up about your friends” Bo didn’t even humour your deal, just squinting at you suspiciously. This certainly wasn’t the reaction that he was used too.
“I don’t even know most of them...just needed the ride” you weren’t exactly lying. You only knew the girl you used to go to school with and, to be completely honest, you didn’t know why she had invited you in the first place. That’s why you didn’t want to come in the first place, and now you were really kicking yourself.
“Ooh, cold” he hummed in amusement before pulling away from you, wandering back over to the table.
Bo picked something up, examining it before returning to you. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blade in his hand, staring at it as he approached.
“I swear I won’t tell anyone” you promised, pulling on the restraints again but with more desperation this time. “Please, just let me go, I swear to-” you pleaded before he cut you off by grabbing your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks together. Effectively shutting you up and making you look up at him as he brought his face closer to yours.
“Shut up” he warned darkly. “There’ll be time for begging and screaming later” the threat sent a shiver up your spine but you nodded, wanting to put off the torture for as long as possible even if that required obeying this man.
“This” Bo held the knife up in front of your face, making you look at it, “is just a warning of what will happen if you act out. Understood?”
You nodded but he squeezed your face harder, telling you that your response wasn’t good enough. “I understand” you managed to say.
“Good” he smirked before placing the knife down on a table beside you that you hadn’t even noticed until know.
“You broke one of Vincent’s figures, didn’t ya?” he asked as the hand that wasn’t holding your face landed on your knee. You tried to look down at it but he held your face in place. “Answer me” he demanded, squeezing your face and your knee.
“Yes” you answered.
“And you saw what we were hiding?” he asked.
“Only after you killed Clara” you told him, remembering your old school friend’s screams from somewhere else in the wax museum, causing you to startle and dump into a wax figure, breaking it.
“You can thank my brother for that, actually” Bo chuckled to himself as the hand on your knee moved a little higher up your leg.
“So where do you reckon we put the new additions...the museum or the church?” he asked rhetorically, just to taunt you, his hand slowly moving up the inside of your thigh. You didn’t answer, only trying but failing to wiggle away from his touch.
“You’re being very quiet, considering how much of a flirt you were being earlier” Bo teased, his hand now resting at the top of the inside of your thigh. “Or were you just being a tease?” he squeezed your thigh, making you gasp a little.
You refused to admit that you still found this man attractive, that his touch was igniting something within you. There was no way you could ever admit that, even to yourself. It was so wrong. No way.
“If you’re not going to answer me...” he hummed, taking the hand away from your thigh and reaching for the knife again.
“No!” you spoke up instantly, your eyes widened frantically.
“So, answer me” he demanded, his hand returning to your thigh, his grip rougher than before. “Were you just being a tease?” he asked again.
“...no” you breathed. You hadn’t just been teasing him when you met, the flirting had been sincere, the smiles had been sincere...and now you were here.
Bo just smirked, leaning closer to you. Adrenaline was coursing through your body as you felt his breath fan against your lips, his own so close to touching yours. You couldn’t move your face away if you wanted to, since his grip remained, but there was a sick part of you that didn’t even want to move away. A part of you that wanted this man ever since you laid eyes on him, a part of you that still wanted him...
“Bo?! You here?!” a somewhat familiar voice called from upstairs, making you look up out of instinct as Bo huffed in annoyance.
“Goddamn it, Lester” Bo muttered to himself before releasing your face and pulling away from you. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart” he winked down at you before heading for the door.
Leaving the room, he closed the door behind him and you heard the clicking of a lock...leaving you strapped to the chair alone in the basement once again.
Only then did you realise how heavily you were breathing and tried to steady your breaths to collect yourself. You pulled against the restraints once again but they didn’t budge, all you could do was wait for Bo to return and do who knows what.
Half of you, the conscious part, still searched the room for some possibility of escape, the other half, a more subconscious part, ran wild with the possibilities of what Bo would do with you once he got back.
You were focusing so much of your energy on trying to understand your own thoughts that you failed to notice that Bo had not put the gag back in your mouth, leaving you capable of screaming for help but with no intention to do so...
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Tied:The Huntress and The Original' part three
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Winchester!Reader
Summary: Things gets hot and heavy between Y/N and Elijah and both open up to one another. Asmodeus sent out demons to find the oldest Winchester while Heaven is in a panic when word gets out the prophecy was fulfilled.
Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Simping!Elijah, A bit of angst, Y/N being not good with feelings
Elijah kissed Y/N hungrily as the heat raised between the two and hands roamed one another's bodies. Elijah took off Y/N's bra and his mouth was on her collar bone right away pulling a soft moan from her. Y/N mewled burying her fingers in Elijah's hair as he left bite marks on her as more of their clothes were removed as Y/N let out a breathy moan.
Elijah took one of her breast into his mouth as his hand cupped her other breast and pushed her back against the pillows moving his mouth along her body leaving marks in his wake.
"Elijah." Y/N breathed shivering feeling Elijah's mouth on her thigh leaving a mark there. Y/N mewled burying her fingers in Elijah's hair when mouth finally was where she needed him most. Y/N trembled as Elijah left marks on her thighs then moved to your clit making her moaned loudly.
"Fuck.....so...good." Y/N moaned out trembling as he worked her with his mouth and slip two fingers into her making her arching crying out his name. Elijah added a third finger getting her to arch when he curled his fingers flattening his tongue against her clit.
Elijah raised his head watching Y/N come undone she was shaking gripping the pillows as she came all over Elijah's fingers as the vampire kissed between her breast.
"There we are, beautiful." Elijah says licking his fingers clean after pulling them from her. Y/N pulled Elijah down kissing him tasting herself on his tongue moaning against his mouth as he entered her dripping core. Elijah groaned burying his face in her neck while her hands moved a long his back feeling his muscles flex while he moved.
"Oh....fuck....why....are...you so....good at this?" Y/N moan out as Elijah raised her leg to the crook of his arm and her mouth latched her mouth on his neck trying to leave marks. Elijah growled fucking her harder and deeper as he reached up pulling her hair tilted her head back placing his mouth on her thoat leaving marks there.
"A 1000+ years of practice, baby." Elijah said moaning when she began moving her hips to meet his thrusts. Y/N cried out when Elijah kissed her roughly as he began to pounded into her. Y/N moaned arching as her chest heaving as the vampire leaned back watching her writhing in pleasure under him.
Y/N's face was flushed her eyes closed tears rolling down her cheeks as she shook arching off the pillows when Elijah rubbed her clit. She cummed as her lover growled leaning down holding her arms above her head thrusting rougher.
"Fuck.....Y/N." Elijah growled as she cummed again and he followed after watching her fall back panting as he peppered her body with kisses. Y/N pulled him into a soft kiss making him hum softly as he pulled out and was about to lay down to pull her into his arms. But Y/N just pulled Elijah against her pulling a sigh from him as he nuzzled between her breast.
"In the morning we should head for New Orleans." Y/N said running her fingers through Elijah's hair making him relax against her as her other hand grabbed a sheet pulling it over their bodies.
"We should but for now sleep, baby." Elijah said softly getting quiet mutters from her. Morning came as the sunlight shined though the window as Elijah woke finding Y/N sitting looking at a map dressed in one of his shirts. It made him smile and moved behind her enjoying how she relaxed against his chest.
"What are you doing beautiful?"
"Looking for an easy way to New Orleans." Y/N answered Elijah marking a rout on the map as he pressed kisses on the back of her neck taking in her scent. Elijah hummed buried his face in her neck as for the first time Elijah felt like his other half and he wasn't going to let her go. It was nearing 12 PM when they got back on the road headed for New Orleans but not before stopping in a town and Elijah decided to spoil the huntress.
"I'm fine Dean. I am headed for New Orleans." Y/N said as Elijah watched her on the phone that he got her earlier as they sat in the back of her truck eating well more like Elijah feeding Y/N a fruit salad as she sat in his lap.
'New Orleans?! Why? We need you to head back to the bunker.'
"No can do. I have a witch to kill also to let Elijah's siblings know he is alive." Y/N tells her younger brother leaning back against Elijah's chest seeing his playful smirk something she had the pleasure of seeing the last few days.
'Wait?! You are with the guy that is the father of your prophecy baby?'
"Yeah for two days now," Y/N tells Dean pausing hearing a sound of wood snapping as Elijah held her tighter, "Dean gotta go. I'll call back later." Y/N said hanging up pulling out her shotgun cocking it with one hand as she got out of Elijah's lap.
When a large pitbull came walking out making Y/N lower her gun smiling crouching down hands out.
"Juliet, sweet baby." Y/N cooed softly as the Hound bounded to her licking and whining at the Huntress as she petted the Hellhound and another Hellhound trotted up whining to be petted too. Elijah blinked as he got out of the truck as a suited man stepped out frowning at Y/N seeing her making kissing faces as she mushed the hound's faces.
"Kitten, I wish you would stop baby my Hellhounds."
"Well Crowley tell them stop being such cute little Hell puppies." Y/N said in a baby voice as she mushed Juliet's face as the Hellhound had a derpy look on her face.
"Only you would find Hell's most feared beast adorable." Crowley says sighing stepping out noticing the Original and was quick to stand straight. Crowley knew of the Original family so to have one of the oldest vampires in front of him was quite imitating.
"What brings you by?"
"Asmodeus is looking for you since you kill his demons." Crowley tells the huntress making her frown.
"So he was the one that had all that set up."
"Of course. Your child is said to be a powerful being rivaling an Nephilim so I am leaving Romeo with you."
"That's sweet of you. If I didn't say any better you are getting soft Crowley." Y/N teased petting Romeo who licked her face leaning his body against her. Crowley smirked shaking his head leaving after telling her that Heaven knows of her being with Elijah.
"So you are friends with a demon." Elijah says as Y/N helped Romeo up into the truck getting a bright smile from the Winchester.
"Crowley is a friend started out as an enemy. He has always been looking out for me no matter what he says."
"And your love for the Hellhounds?" Elijah asked as Y/N closed the back of the truck when Elijah noticed the far off look on her face. Elijah gently cupped her face seeing the pain on her face as she subconsciously covered her abdomen.
"Love? Are you......" Elijah was cut off when Y/N pulled away harshly her eyes walking to the driver side of the truck.
"Let's get going."
"Y/N?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Y/N said lowly as Elijah picked up the pain in her tone one he knew all too well. Elijah made a note to ask later as he didn't want her in pain let alone holding onto it.
"I am here to listen when you want to talk." Elijah says cupping her face leaning in to kiss her but Romeo stuck his face between them. Y/N let out a laugh making Elijah smile enjoying the sound of it while Romeo licked her cheek.
"Alright boys let's get going."
Romeo had his head on Y/N's thigh as she drove with one hand on his head rubbing his ear. Elijah was surprised how comfortable he was with sitting in silence with Y/N.
"What is your family like?" Elijah heard Y/N ask making him look at her smiling.
"Well Niklaus is a headache but I can see good in him along with my younger brother Kol. Rebekah is....well a bit bratty but I know she'll adore you. Freya is my older sister calm trying hard to be a good sister. What of your brothers?"
"Dean is a hardheaded but as a good heart. My baby brother Sammy is too smart for his own good....tried to stay out of this life."
"You didn't grow up hunting?" Elijah asked her looking at her seeing a frown on her beautiful face.
"No....mom was killed by a demon. John train us in hunting and what started out as revenge turned into chasing a ghost." Y/N said remembering the long days of training and how John pushed her harder than her brothers.
"Your father sounds all most like my own."
"Really?" Y/N asked looking at him as the truck stopped at a red light as Elijah chuckled a bit nodding but he did know the difference between the men was the fact John didn't try to kill his own children.
"Mikael was a brutal man. But one thing I can take away that I learned from him is how to be a better father than he was."
"Elijah." Y/N said face turning red at the thought of Elijah holding their child or the three of settled off somewhere away from everything. Y/N tore her green eyes away from his mocha ones and started driving again as Elijah smirked hearing her heart racing.
"We should stop for the night."
"Yeah I'll find a motel."
"Oh love no. We are staying in a hotel." Elijah said having Y/N pull up to the nicest place in the town they were in. The room was nice every nice and Y/N let out a moan when she layed on the bed as it was the most comfortable bed she layed on.
"Comfortable?" Elijah asked smirking moving over Y/N as she reached up cupping his cheek and he leaned down kissing her softly.
"You are spoiling me."
"I am aware. I want to, I find myself adoring you."
"You are a giant sapp aren't you." Y/N teased as Elijah smiled leaning down kissing her then pulled away. Both got ready for bed and Romeo layed on her side of the bed as Elijah got in behind her.
"Night big guy."
"Goodnight baby." Elijah said softly kissing her bare shoulder lacing their fingers together as he held her close. Y/N relaxed against Elijah surprised with how safe he made her feel and was happy that he would be the father of her baby. Sleep came easy for the two unaware that Ketch was on his way toward their hotel along with Sam and Dean.
#L.R writes#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson fluff
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Bring On The Wonder, We Got It All Wrong, We Pushed Us Down Deep In Our Souls, So Hang On
Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst
Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this piece right here that everyone got mad at me for because I made it angsty :) Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
“Will you slow down?” Bruce complained, reaching her in a few steps. “Your ankle is sprained and you’re going to—”
She turned on him, slapping his hand away from where it was reaching for her. “I don’t wanna look or talk to you or anybody else right now.” She spat. “Take the hostages to GCPD and leave me the fuck alone.”
“He wasn’t going to kill you.” Bruce said and she scowled.
“It doesn’t matter what he was or wasn’t going to do.” She pointed to herself. “I thought he was going to. That’s what matters to me.” She turned and took a step, though her leg faltered, and she went to her knees, reaching to hold her ankle. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“(Y/N),” he murmured, bending down beside her and she reached up, yanking the cowl off.
“Everything hurts,” she cried, anger and pain lacing her voice. “My back hurts. My chest hurts. Everything fucking hurts.” She reached up to wipe the blood still leaking from her busted nose and split eyebrow. “And I’m bleeding.” (Y/N) licked her lips, feeling the sting from the broken skin of her bottom one.
Bruce’s hand went to his utility belt, unclipping one of the pockets, and he pulled out a rag; he gently raised it to her eyebrow, dabbing at the blood as he quietly stated, “Your eyebrow’s already in hemostasis. Though it’s going to need stitches.” His hand briefly stilled near her swollen eye, then he continued to her nose where he gently held it.
She whimpered, trying to recoil but he held on. “That hurts.”
“You need to stop the bleeding,” he advised, then grabbed her hand and placed it over his, forcing her to take it.
“What are you doing?”
Bruce didn’t answer her, one arm curling under her knees, the other her back and he hefted her up into his arms. “I’ll take you back to your penthouse.”
(Y/N) wanted to cry, and she was helpless to stop the tears that gathered in her eyes; she turned, burying her face in the plate of her brother’s shoulder pad, breathing deeply to keep her sobs at bay.
“I don’t know what’s going to come after this,” he explained softly, careful to take even steps to avoid jostling her. “But I know that you’re the only one who gets to choose what happens between you and him.” He rested his chin on her head. “And if you choose to take a leave for a while, then I’ll support that.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want to crawl in a hole.”
“Want me to get my shovel and dig you one?”
A watery laugh passed her lips, though it dissolved into a sob and with her free hand, she reached over and grabbed Bruce’s opposite shoulder, squeezing tightly as she shook against him.
He inhaled deeply, catching Ghost-Maker from the corner of his eye leading the hostages out. “We’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”
***
Turns out that the leave of absence seemed like the best choice for her, and she’d hunkered down in a safe-house about three hundred miles outside of the state on the edges of the McIntyre Wild Area in Pennsylvania. Bruce and she had bought it years ago as a last-ditch effort if they needed to get out of Gotham and it’d taken the two of them, plus Clark to clear it out and build. Half of the time was having Clark laugh at the two siblings and call them “city-slickers trying to be country folk” as he watched them struggle to tame the land.
But in the end, it had been effective, and they’d built a rather cozy safe-house that looked inconspicuously like Ma and Pa Kent’s home in Smallville. It was stocked with everything they needed, a built-in basement for safe measures. She was alone and secure in the small cabin and that’s how she wanted to be. Since leaving some few days ago, she’d messaged each nephew and niece telling them that while she loved them dearly, she needed to be alone for some time and that she’d be back as soon as she could be.
They’d flooded her phone with messages and concerns, but she’d left the device in her penthouse before leaving, resting assured that Bruce would explain in her absence. She felt like a failure and more so, weak for leaving her brother with the job of explaining, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain the situation herself.
She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, gazing absentmindedly as the flames cast light that flickered around the darkened room. The entire room was open, living room and fireplace in the center, bedroom in one corner, kitchen in the other, a closed bathroom in another. It all smelled like pine. Fresh air and the ingraining scent of pine. But it’s what she needed. Gotham City overwhelmed the olfactory senses with blood and smog and on especially bad days, the rotting scent of fish and death. Everyone needed a break from it at some point in their life; to remember how to breathe in air that wasn’t contaminated.
The only thing she didn’t like was how quiet it was. (Y/N) was used to the distant sounds of traffic, gunshots, and sirens. Here it was the sound of her breathing and the wind whistling through the trees, wildlife scratching and hunting away in the underbrush. She swore she could hear her blood flowing through her brain. If there was any consolation, it did help to hone the senses on what she wanted to hear. And what she didn’t want to hear was knocking at the front door.
Quietly she rose from the couch and walked to the side of her bed, grabbing the loaded twelve gauge; she cocked it and stepped up to the door, warning, “If you’re not park rangers, I suggest you leave now. I’m armed and I will shoot you.”
A muffled chuckle sounded from the other side. “Well, that’s not the way I figured you’d greet me.”
“Oh, so you were expecting the shotgun blast then?” she answered aiming at the door and she pulled the trigger, blasting a large hole in the center of the wooden door. (Y/N) waited until the smoke cleared before she walked up and bent down, peeking through to see him flat on the ground, unharmed, reflexive as ever.
“Damn,” she griped. “I really thought I was going to beat you that time, K.”
Ghost-Maker cocked his head up and she was sure he was glaring at her from beneath the mask. “You crazy—”
“Bitch?” (Y/N) finished. “Tell me about it.” She set the gun next to the door and stood up, flipping the lock before pulling it open. “What do you want.”
“Well, I was coming to see you,” he said, picking himself off the ground; dusting himself off, he added, “You wouldn’t answer me.”
“Huh, I wonder why?” (Y/N) questioned, pressing her finger to her chin in mock thought, then her face lit up and she exclaimed, “Maybe it was because you tried to kill me a week ago!”
“I wasn’t going to kill you.” He griped. “You know I wasn’t going to.”
“Noted. What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you and if you’re smart, you’ll leave before I decide to reload the gun.”
Ghost-Maker sighed, gazing at her. “I was using Kyusho Jitsu to slow you down until Bruce arrived.”
(Y/N) wanted to scream, but she kept her voice level. “And that somehow justifies splitting both lips, one eyebrow, busting my nose, and throwing me into an electric fence?”
“…No,” he murmured. “No, it doesn’t.” He looked at her. “But I was concerned that if I didn’t make it look like we were really trying to kill one another, Riddler was going to kill the hostages.”
She merely stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I used to think I knew when you were telling the truth, but now that I really think about it, I don’t know when you’re lying to me either.”
He stood to his full height, jaw tightening as he said, “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, (Y/N). And I’d never lie to you.”
“I don’t believe you,” she shot back, face pinching as she finished with, “And you can sleep outside.”
She shut the door and turned around, walking to the bed in the corner and he looked through the hole in the middle. “You know I can just come inside if I want?”
(Y/N) laughed, stripping the shorts and long shirt she had on before climbing into the bed. “You take one step in here and I’ll cut your penis off and nail it to your forehead.”
“Hmm…have it your way,” he decided, turning around and she had as she tried, she couldn’t block out the sound of him setting up his blanket and bedding on the porch.
Hopefully, he’d be gone in the morning.
***
A crack of thunder startled her awake and she sat up in the bed, looking out the window to see the rain beating down. Her eyes drifted to the hole in the door and for a moment, she wanted to get up and see if he was okay, but she felt a bolt of irritation flash through her and she huffed, flopping back down into the bed, yanking the covers over her head.
She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the thunder clap above her, the lightning illuminating the room ever other moment, then she groaned, cursing herself for being a good person deep, deep down. (Y/N) threw the covers off her and rolled out of the bed, hurrying to the door. Pulling it open, she couldn’t help but smile at the man curled up in his thoroughly soaked blanket.
“Come inside.” He said nothing in return, and she sighed, kicking him in the stomach. “I know you’re awake, K. Get in here.”
“I thought you didn’t want me inside,” he retorted, yet to pull the blanket off his head.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I’d be a terrible person if I let you get pneumonia.”
“You know you can’t catch that from rain, right? It’s caused by—”
“Fine. Stay out here for all I care,” she interrupted, starting to close the door and he sat up, scrambling for the inside.
“Wait!” She smirked and he craned his neck up at her to scowl. “You did that on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) retorted, cracking the door open more so he could get inside. He sat against the door when she closed it and she leaned against the door frame, watching the water drip down his soaked body.
“Want a change of clothes?” she asked. “Bruce left some behind the last time he was here.”
“Thank you,” he said, and she walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.
She turned, seeing him yanking off his shirt and pants, then tossed the clothes to him. “Here.”
He caught them. “I’m not wearing his boxers.”
“They’re new, jack-ass.” (Y/N) snorted, looking away so he could dress himself, then she glanced back. “Feel better?”
“I feel less cold,” he retorted, walking around the fireplace to toss another couple logs inside. “You’re letting the fire die out.”
She rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen, returning with a clean rag. “You’d be less cold if you took the mask off and toweled your hair.”
He looked up at her, watching, waiting, and since he didn’t stop her from reaching behind him, she untied the knot at the base of his skull, pulling the damp fabric away.
(Y/N) wiped the water from his face, softly brushing over his cheeks, then to his eyebrows, and when she was satisfied, she placed the towel on his head, and gently massaged his scalp, letting the towel soak up all the rainwater.
When she was done, she tossed it aside and sank onto the brick wraparound with a heavy sigh, eyes drifting to the wall. Ghost-Maker collapsed against her legs, resting his head back on her thighs; unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, stroking the brown tresses.
After a few minutes, he murmured, “I apologize for not telling you the plan.”
Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their ministrations. “I accept your apology.” She scratched his scalp. “Sorry for what I said.”
“It didn’t hurt my feelings,” he shrugged, and she tugged his hair.
“Yes, it did.” He tipped his head back, gazing at her. “Parade it around all you want but we both know you’re not immune to having your feelings hurt.”
Ghost-Maker searched her eyes. “You truly thought I was going to kill you?”
“Yes,” (Y/N) answered. “Everything was happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to think about what fighting style you were using on me. All I knew was that you weren’t pulling punches and it didn’t feel like a plan to me.”
She stared at him. “And I was scared of you.”
“Are you scared of me now?” he questioned, and she inhaled then exhaled.
“No.” He seemed relieved, but it was short lived as she added, “But I don’t trust you anymore. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I do again.”
He looked away. “I see.” Nothing was said for a moment, and he pulled from her, standing to his feet. “It’s late. We should rest.”
(Y/N) stood and started making her way to the bed when she realized he was going too. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“Going to bed?” Ghost-Maker offered, and she cocked a brow.
“Try again, K.” She pointed to the couch. “Go.”
His face pinched and he turned, but she caught his hand and he stopped, glancing back at her. (Y/N), against the better judgement in her head and the obvious discomfort between the two of them, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest.
He seemed to freeze at the sudden action, even if it’d been one, they’d done many times, but he recovered, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around the back of her neck. His cheek brushed her temple and her grip shifted, hands coming up to press flat against his shoulders; with the warmth stinging the corners of her eyes, she dug her nails into his back as if it were the one thing keeping her from breaking down.
She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him how angry she was. How hurt. How much loathing was built up inside of her, but nothing would come out.
“I know,” Ghost-Maker murmured against her hair. “I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), and I know.” He pulled back, hand slipping from her neck to cup her cheek; he pressed his forehead to hers and assured quietly, “I know.”
(Y/N)’s eyes slipped shut and she let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, and he nodded.
“Tomorrow.” He let her go and watched as she unsteadily headed for the bed, collapsing onto the mattress; she tugged the blankets over her head, and he frowned as he saw her frame start to shake beneath them. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he laid down and watched her for some time. Waiting until she stopped shaking and slipped off into sleep so he himself could sleep too.
#ghost maker imagine#ghost maker imagines#ghost maker x reader imagine#ghost maker x reader imagines#ghost maker x reader#ghost-maker x reader#ghost-maker x reader imagines#ghost-maker x reader imagine#ghost-maker imagines#ghost-maker imagine#ghost-maker#ghost maker dc#ghostmaker#ghost maker#batsis x batfamily imagine#batsis x batfamily imagines#batfamily x batsis#batsis x batfam#batfamily x batsis imagine#batfamily x batsis imagines#batsis x batfamily#batsis imagines#batsis imagine#batfamily x reader imagine#batfamily x reader imagines#batfamily x reader#batfamily imagines#batfamily imagine#batfamily#bruce wayne
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ilyana! congrats on 2k!!!! 48 from list 2 with our favorite man to scream about, mr. tyson jost :-)
48. “We’ve known each other for years and I don’t think we’ve ever had a proper conversation.”
two / three
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Your brother’s friends could be described as one thing: annoying.
For years you had to deal with obnoxious boys overcrowding your home and eating all the food in your pantry and teasing the shit out of you. You were just the irritating little sister they had to put up with, and one older brother had actually turned into five with how often they were at your house.
Thankfully, when your brother went off to college, the chaos calmed down and you could finally eat through an entire bag of chips by yourself without worrying one of them would snatch it from your hands. Then, you went off to college and the guys became nonexistent. Now, your parent’s home served more as a vacation spot rather than home, but that also meant you had to go back to sharing spaces when your brother brought his old buddies over.
You knew the only reason they spent so much time at your house was due to the large pool in your backyard, but the summer time was almost unbearable with how much they were in it. Every turn around the corner you were met with one of your brother’s friends.
They whispered about you behind your back, and especially your brother’s back, among themselves. Mostly, they were brief comments about how your figure had really filled out since you were sixteen. It was a complete one-eighty from when they saw you last, but they’d rather be dead than caught trying to flirt with you. It was simple bro code, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t look and appreciate your body.
You weren’t oblivious to their stares. They probably thought they were inconspicuous or not noticeable, but you weren’t dumb. The extra attention was flattering even if you weren’t going to do anything about it. If you were to get with any of your brother’s friends, it was going to be Tyson Jost, but he hadn’t spared you a second glance since seeing you again.
Tyson had been the only one of your brother’s friends to ever catch your eye. He was always handsome, but beyond that, he was so fucking nice. He didn’t partake in the teasing the rest of your brother’s friends gave you, and he didn’t think you were a burden every time you needed to catch a ride somewhere. He never went out of his way to speak to you, but he never treated you badly.
And you wanted him so bad.
He was just as respectful now as he was back then. Even after years of playing in the NHL and making millions of dollars, the fame hadn’t changed him. His arms had gotten bigger and his thighs more muscular, and his scruff was doing nothing to cool your sinful thoughts, but he was still just as kind.
Out of all your brother’s friends, he was the only one that didn’t irk the shit out of you. If anything, you kind of wished he would say something stupid so you could kill your stupid crush.
It was another hot day, the summer sun beating down on you at what felt like a thousand degrees, and you were taking advantage of the nice weather by lounging by the pool when a chorus of deep voices sounded from the sliding door.
You peeked one eye open under your sunglasses to see five idiots in swim trunks try their hardest not to let their gazes linger on you as they filed outside with a case of beer in hand. Your brother wasn’t with them, presumably still in the house, but Tyson pushed past all the guys and pulled out the lounge next to you.
“Beer?” Tyson asked, holding out a Coors can, and you thanked him as he slid the cold metal into your hand.
The other guys were still looking at you from afar, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling behind your sunglasses.
“Tell your friends they’re gonna catch flies if they don’t close their mouths,” you said, flipping over to your stomach.
You weren’t expecting Tyson to respond, but you were happily surprised when a hearty laugh sounded from his throat. Your head rested on your arms, face turned towards Tyson, and you let a smile quirk at the ends of your lips.
“I’m sorry they’re idiots,” he apologized half-heartedly.
“Not your fault,” you said. “I hope the company in Colorado isn’t as idiotic as the one you keep here.”
“Hate to break it to you, but guys of all ages are stupid,” Tyson explained, glancing over to you. His hair was curly and looked so soft you were half tempted to reach over and run your fingers through it. It was much longer than the cut he used to keep in high school, and you were a fan of this current length.
“I hope they don’t play beer darts at least,” you commented, referring to the night before when the guys sat out back for two hours playing that dumb house party game and progressively getting more drunk throughout it. Nick had taken one straight to the shin, and you could see the bandaid over his leg from your view across the pool.
“Not that stupid at least,” Tyson chuckles. “College boy stupidity is a different kind of stupid.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” you groaned.
You watched the guys, now joined with your brother, shotgun a beer and jump in the pool in quick succession.
“You know, we’ve known each other for years and I don’t think we’ve ever had a proper conversation,” Tyson says after a minute of silence, and you peer at him over the rim of your sunglasses. He leaned back against the chair, sunglasses on and beer in hand.
“I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with any of you that didn’t consist of whining about how you had to drive me to school or to the mall,” you teased.
“Hey! I never said anything,” Tyson said in defense.
“True,” you conceded. “You were the only one that didn’t piss me off back in the day.”
“I tried my hardest not to,” Tyson laughs.
I wish you would’ve tried harder to talk to me.
“Tyson! Get your ass in the pool!” Your brother interrupts, causing both of your attention to snap back to the crowd in the water.
“I think we’re good out here,” Tyson called back, and a few of the guys took the time to splash water at you.
There were loud boos shouted your way, but they left you alone after that.
“How’s school going?” He asked.
“It’s fine,” you answered cautiously. “Stressed about what to do after graduation this year, but other than that it’s all good. How is Colorado? What are the mountains like?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t do a lot of hiking,” he grins. “You should visit some time though if you’re into that. I’m sure I could scout out a few trails to take you on.”
“Really? I’d love that. I’ve barely traveled,” you admitted with a sigh. Being broke and in college with loans to pay off didn’t leave you much opportunity to do much sight-seeing.
“Of course, you can always crash at my place too if you need a place to stay,” he offered, and the gesture warmed your heart.
“Maybe I’ll make a trip later this summer then,” you thought out loud.
“Yeah?” Tyson smiled. “I think you’d love Colorado.”
“If it’s good enough for you then I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” you mused.
“Tyson!” Your brother shouted once again. “Stop flirting with my sister and get in here.”
You knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop the heat from flooding your cheeks in embarrassment. No one would be able to tell since the sun had your face feeling hot all day, but Tyson only laughed and set his empty beer can on the ground beside him.
“Why don’t you text me later if you’re still serious about Colorado?” Tyson suggested as he sat up to his full height. “Oh, and maybe we can just keep this between us?” He looked a little sheepish then, asking you to keep quiet about a possible trip where you’d see him, but it sent tingles throughout your body.
“Of course,” you replied. “I’ll text you later.”
Hope filled your stomach at the thought and tucked your face further into your arms as you tried not to ogle Tyson’s tanned, and very fit body, climb off the chair and jump into the pool.
#tyson jost#tyson jost imagine#nhl imagine#hockey imagines#my writing#requests#blurbs#avs17#2k blurb weekend
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relationship dynamics
because i felt like it
Birdflash: Their relationship dynamic is like the cutest thing ever. “I’ve noticed that we’ve slowly begun to phase the ‘B’ out of our bromance.” Have done the spiderman kiss and will continue to do the spiderman kiss. SO. MANY. PUNS. They’re CONSTANTLY in a pun war. In a drive thru: “Hey can you tell the guy in the car behind me that he’s cute and I’ll pay for his drink?” “Um….okay sir.” “Your total is $10.59. Also the guy in front of you said, um, he said to tell you that he thinks you’re cute and he’ll pay for your drink.” “*rolls eyes with a fond smile* that’s my husband, he thinks he’s romantic,” but the best part is that it works for either one of them. Birdflash Culture is the word “babe.” If you don’t think they had a bubble machine at their wedding then you’re lying to yourself. Eating junk food whenever and wherever they want,. “Oh my god just get in the fucking blanket fort already.” Where you go, I go. SO MUCH FOOD OH MY GOD ALL THE FOOD SO MUCH FRIGGIN FOOD. Police/crime lab aesthetic bc I have a headcanon that they’ both work with the police department (Dick’s a detective, Wally’s the lead CSI). Photo booth strips. Them being impressed by each other all the time. F R E C K L E S. Stopping halfway through the middle of sex because they just realized something about Star Trek season 3 episode 8 and they really need to pull it up on the tv to make sure they’re right. Re-enacting fight scenes from martial arts movies in the living room of a tiny apartment. Have i mentioned the babe thing because they toss around the word babe all the friggin time, not baby that’s gross, just plain babe along with bro and dude those three are interchangeable. “I called shotgun infinity when I was twelve.” The glass is always half full. Them playing video games at home eating pizza counts as a “date” but also they’ve been doing the same thing for years.
Jayroy: “don’t worry I know what I’m doing” “not even god knows what you’re doing.” Sharing cigarettes. Desperate messy kisses. Constant fast paced insult war that you can’t keep up with if you’re not quick witted enough. “My family had to put up with me but you? You’re the idiot who chose me as a best friend.” pet names galore but like edgy ones not gross sweet ones (my personal favorite is jaybird bc it’s awesome and also canon), very very kinky sex, will murder rapists and drug lords in the most painful way possible without giving a solitary fuck but will go to a nursing home the next morning and be as respectful as possible to the elderly. Tattooossss. Baseball hats. Say “fuck you” as “I love you.” Hair ties everywhere. m u s c l e s.
Timkon: Classic love story. Like, switch one of their genders and you’ve got a old school romance movie in the making. Photo shoots with a pride flag and merch. Pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks. Tim wearing Kon’s clothes to the point where practically his entire wardrobe except for his fancy clothes and red robin suit consists solely of Kon’s stuff. The Neighborhood vibes. Holding hands on a date at the carnival. Pride bracelets and pins. 90s vibes. Kind of the type of Destiel feeling where you can’t really have Destiel without also having Sam being the overenthusiastic shipper/supportive brother? That but with the rest of the Core Four. Polaroid pictures. Gay and Tired. Flannel + Leather + Denim. they go on dates with other people (before they realize they’re in love) and spend the entire time talking about their other half. Skateboards. A high school romance.
Damijon (aged up obviously): constant constant constant bickering and arguing, like we’re surpassing married couple status here. “I’m older” “I’m taller” starts out as a biting insult, falls into teasing joke, then becomes something they say with a mischievous fondness and an inside-joke smile. Country + Pop Taylor swift songs. Wandering together through the city. "Be kind to animals or I’ll kill you.” Sitting on the roof together. Kryptonite blades that Jon trusts no one except Damian to wield. “I hate you” “happy to hear it” turning into another inside joke. Sleepovers. Never growing up. “I trust you with my life unconditionally but I do not trust you to get my order right remember the time you betrayed me and everything I ever stood for?” “Oh my god dami I forgot the sauce onCE.” Don’t lie to yourself, habibi is totally a thing. Damian wearing Jon’s varsity football jacket over dark colored/black turtleneck shirts. Damian sketching Jon either late at night in the light of the moon or early in the morning by the light of the sun. Classic dark vs Light. Running down the street tugging the other behind you while holding hands. Red converse + Combat boots. TEAMWORK. “Clark, your son is annoying, loud, clumsy, entirely too tall, hopelessly optimistic, and way too naive. I trust him with every cell in my body.”
#this was just me feeling shippy#birdflash#jayroy#timkon#damijon#dick grayson#wally west#jason todd#roy harper#tim drake#kon-el#damian wayne#jon kent#dc#birdflash headcanon#jayroy headcanon#timkon headcanon#damijon headcanon#dick grayson headcanon#nightwing#nightwing headanon#wally west headcanon#kid flash headcanon#the flash headcanon#jason todd headcanon#red hood#red hood headcanon#roy harper headcanon#arsenal headcanon#tim drake headcanon
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forget me not
spencer reid x reader
Request: No
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, drowning, murder, drug mention, etc
Summary: You and Spencer don't realize you love each other until it's almost too late
Author's Note: First thing in like fucking forever, so yeah. This was originally a request and then I was at school and I couldn't look at my request so it was way off script, so I just did my own shit, this also takes place in the 5th season, in the middle just after hayley dies.
~
"The unsub is a white male between the ages of 35-45. His modus operandi is drowning in the great lakes, he's already struck Superior, Michigan, Ontario, and Huron, so we expect Lake Erie to be next." Hotch says, glancing at his phone every minute or so. It's his third case back since Hayley died, and he's picked up a habit of waiting to hear bad news.
"This unsub has recently developed a hallucinative disorder where every face he sees has an emotional connection. There were no discernable connections between his victims which leads us to believe that his mind is filling in the gaps at random." Reid says, gesturing abstractly at nothing at all in particular.
"This disorder was likely triggered by a recent brain injury connected to the Great Lakes so keep a lookout for any recent accident victims. He was very social until the accident, and after it he immediately became anti-social. He was probably in a relationship recently, but then broke it off, he is not married, but possibly has children, which he will not shy away from using in a hostage situation." Morgan exclaims as he leans against a desk.
"His victims are all over the place, so we advise everyone to be on high alert. There is no pattern to the murders, from a 51-year-old single mother of two to a 14-year-old on vacation." You pause and take a breath, looking back down at your notes. "Someone out there knows this man, so we implore you to tell as many people as possible, our Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau will be setting up a press conference, and it is very important to get this out to as many people as possible."
"Won't that just spook him more?" One of the sheriff's deputy says, with a concerned look on his face.
"Yes, but at this point, he will kill again no matter what, it's better to have the public be informed because he will take another victim, whether we find him during or after is up to us."
He nods, and looks down at his notepad, badly masking his disturbed grimace.
"Thank you and let us know if you have any leads," Hotch exclaims, closing the meeting.
You walk up to Spencer "I bet we're their favorite people right about now." You say, sipping on your coffee.
Reid avoids your eyes and continues to fidget with the chess piece that he probably stole from one of the officer's desks. "What's wrong Reid?"
"I dunno, I just have a really bad feeling about this one," He picks up his cane and walks away. When Spencer has enough he needs to walk away, and as long as he wasn't hurt that was fine with you.
"Reid, y/l/n, Garcia's got something." Morgan raps his knuckles on the doorway and calls you into a conference room. "Hey babygirl, what do ya got for us?" He exclaims, shifting the call to speakerphone.
"A luscious blonde mane and an intense yearning to hold you." Emily giggles a little bit and Garcia can probably feel Hotch's glare "oh come on Derek."
"Sorry baby, keep goin'."
"I have a name. One Larry Todd. 3 weeks ago he was in a boat accident in which he had a severe concussion and was unconscious for 3 days. He immediately broke up with his girlfriend Shelby, which she was very angry about, adieu to her Facebook page. His ex-wife reported that he missed his last two visitations with his daughter Amelia." She takes a pause "he owned a bait shop that's been closed since his boat was destroyed in the accident, and it's listed as his last residency.
"Fits our profile to a tee," Emily exclaims.
"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch says, hanging up the phone call. "Emily, JJ is in the conference so run out and let her know. Morgan and Rossi, go to the bait shop with SWAT, and Reid and y/l/n go to the ex-wife's house; Emily and I will stay here and see what else we can dig up."
Everyone goes their separate ways. The sheriff takes the driver's seat, with you in the shotgun seat and Spencer in the back. You can hear the clang his leg makes against his cane and his foot bouncing.
"I'll take the daughter, and you can have the ex-wife."
"Okay," responds Spencer.
The ex-wife Miranda opens the door sobbing when you knock on it. "Excuse me, ma'am, my name is Agent y/n y/l/n and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, do you mind if we ask you and your daughter a few questions about your ex-husband?"
She continues to sob but lets you in. You look back to see the sheriff playing video games on his phone and you scoff.
Spencer sits down with the crying woman and you politely ask if you can speak to her daughter. She tells you yes and that Amelia is around back.
"Bye, Reid." You blow a kiss to Spencer and walk out the door, shaking a sinister nagging feeling itching at the back of your neck.
You walk across the pavement and open the gate to enter your unsub's former backyard. "Hi Amelia, my name is y/n, I'm a friend of your mommies."
Beginning to grow more suspicious, you pull out your gun and triple-check to make sure it's on safety. If Todd is there you know that he would be fine with sacrificing his daughter for his own goals and you wouldn't let that happen "Amelia? Is your daddy here."
"Boo!" A little girl with pigtails holding a stuffed rabbit jumps from behind the recycling bin and you chuckle, putting your gun away in your holster. "Did I scare you?"
"You sure did!" You laugh. "Wow, that's such a pretty bunny, where did you get it?"
"My daddy got it for me." She said, showing off her gap tooth.
"That's so cool! Do you remember what it was like when he gave it to you?" You kneel to be at eye level with the child.
"Yeah, he was super cuddly, now he's a little more pokey, but that's okay." She says, playing with the bunny ears.
"When did he get pokey, Amelia?" You hesitated, something was off "I just want your daddy to be cuddly again."
"A little bit ago. He used to tell me stories till I fell asleep eeeeeverynight, but then he stopped for a week and when he came back he was like a big lion."
You had a growing sense of paranoia budding in your spine, why was she telling you all this so fast? "What type of stories?"
"He used to tell me princess stories, but after he stopped for a week he talked all about ones about the scary lady who tried to take me away, but then he stopped her! And the boy who was being dangerous so he had to make sure that she didn't hurt me." She exclaimed absentmindedly.
You start to pull your phone out of your pocket until Amelia starts talking again "and just now, he was talking about the bad knight who tried to take me away."
Your jaw dropped and you tried to find the best course of action, but by the time your brain started working it was too late. He walked up behind you and whispered into your ear "Nighty-night."
And then everything was black
~~~
"Hey, mommy."
"Yes, sweetheart?" She quickly wiped the tears off of her face to turn to her daughter.
"Can I have ice cream?"
"Of course sweetheart" she gives me a small smile and gets up towards the kitchen. "Where's that nice agent that came here with Dr. Reid?"
"They weren't a nice agent, they were a bad, bad, bad knight, and they were trying to take me away, so daddy took them instead."
No.
Oh no.
No no no no no no no no.
Where were they? Where was y/n?
I pulled out my gun without a second thought and left my cane behind, I ran as fast as I could without it, and by the time I was in the backyard my knee was burning and they were gone.
~~~
You woke up halfway through the drive. The road switched from smooth the bumpy a million times over, and it smelled like bees. Not like honey, not like pollen, like bees. Just bees. It smelled nice, but you don't want to die smelling bees.
You wanted to move. Move your body, move your head, move your eyes, move anything, but you couldn't move. Nothing could move. There was a sweaty tv shirt shoved between your teeth. Your hands were bound with bristled rope and there was metal all around you and you were certain that this was the back of a van. At first, you thought there must be a blindfold over your eyes, and then you realized that they were just too tired to open.
There was an old country song playing over the radio, a love song about a family in a house. The truck stopped shaking and he pulled the ignition. A growing sense of dread filled your stomach as he walked around towards the back of the truck. He opened the door and you saw his face.
That could only mean one thing- you weren't leaving here alive.
~~~
Within minutes crime scene techs were on the scene, but I knew they wouldn't find anything useful. The only thing that was there was the absence of y/n and our distraught profile.
"They were right here, right here, they were- they were right here, right here." Hotch looked at me somberly, and Morgan rubbed my shoulder with sympathy.
"We need to update our profile," Emily said, there was no time to waste, "we know what this guy does to people, and if he would risk abducting an armed federal agent in front of his daughter there's no doubt they in danger."
"We know Emily," Everyone looks at me kind of funny like I've said something wrong, but at this point, I don't care what anyone thinks of me, "His reason for doing this was for his daughter, he took out anyone he saw as a threat, a motherly figure, someone who could be her older brother, anyone who was a threat and wanted to take Amelia away from him.
"His disorder is fairly undocumented, being exactly the opposite of prosopagnosia, where patients disassociate faces from their loved ones, causes him to feel emotions about people he's never seen before, and his subconscious is assigning meaning to them at random, picking up anyone shows the slightest twinge of distaste.
"y/n picked up more than a twinge, they were there to take his daughter away, so he likely believes they're the mastermind." Everyone looks at me and waits for me to say the thing we all know is coming "he's not going to kill them before they suffer."
As we hitched a ride back to the station my leg was bouncing like crazy and my fingers were tapping the numbers of pi into the leather of the car door. Emily put her hand on my shoulder but I couldn't feel her, y/n missing was the only thing I could feel.
"Garcia I need you to check if Larry Todd owns any vehicles large enough to hold a person, trunks, vans, trucks anything," Morgan says into his speakerphone once we get back to the station.
"Oh god it's true, he really has them?" I can hear the distraught coated thick on her voice "do you think they're in pain, do you think he-"
"Garcia we don't have time for this, does he or does he not have any vehicles in his name." I snapped, I could apologize later when y/n was in a hospital bed.
"No, but you know I'm never one to go to bed early, and it turns out his great uncle died a year and a half ago, but his van was pulled over and given a speeding ticket a few months ago, how much do you wanna bet that's our guy and not a psychopath's uncle."
"Thanks, Garcia," Rossi hangs up the phone and turns to one of the sheriff's deputies in the room, "put out an ATB on that van."
"Okay, I'm gonna go through the medical files again, see if there's anything I missed," Hotch catches my arm.
"There isn't, right now all we can do is wait and look." He pauses "we've sent out patrol cars to look for the van, go out with Morgan, and circle around Lake Erie."
"Hotch, what if- what if we don't find them, or we find them and it's too late, or we find-"
"Right now she's alive, you said it yourself, he's not gonna let her die so easy."
As disturbing as it is hearing that someone you love more than anything is being tortured, I found it strangely comforting. They're alive. They are alive. They are prepared. After Tobias took me they brought me to a CIA torture seminar, just on the off chance that anything happened, I wouldn't break again.
I stared out the window of the passenger side of the SUV. Morgan wasn't talking, he knew what I was feeling, because he felt it before, when it happened to me.
"We've got a report of the vehicle going down sunmist lane" the scanner jumps to life.
I had memorized the map the second we landed; "we're five minutes away" and then, quietly under my breath, I whispered, "I'm coming y/n."
~~~
He held your head underwater for the 7th or the fiftieth time. You can't remember. You can't remember. You can't remember anything other than the water under the dock filling my lungs.
"What do you want with my daughter?!" He screamed at you as he pulled you out again, You vomited up all the water that my body could muster. You didn't know he had a daughter.
You forgot everything you learned to do. You forgot to pretend it was affecting me, You forgot how to hold my breath, You forgot. You forgot everything.
Except for Spencer, Spencer's smile, Spencer holding you, Spencer missing you until that was gone too.
Everything went away but the water.
He kicked you back off the dock again, and for a second you gasped for air, and then you sank, nothing even mattered anyways.
The man pulled you out again and kicked you in the ribs; you felt something rip inside of you and you screamed as loud as you could, which was more like a whimper.
"Larry Todd put your hands up!" Two men came behind the man who drowned you, you couldn't remember them, but you could remember the rip in your ribs filling with water.
He shoved you back into the water and you didn't even try to fight this time, you just sank, feet after feet after feet of water. You didn't hold your breath, you didn't care.
A figure appeared above you, and you saw the angel. He had a shimmering brown halo and a beautiful bright face that looked terrified, just like an angel.
And then he pulled you up.
~~~
This might be heaven, but it might be hell. You can tell the room is white without opening your eyes. There's a steady beeping sound to your left and it smells like chlorine.
When you finally manage to open your eyes you wished you hadn't. All you see is lethargy around you.
JJ is drooling in her sleep while Emily is asleep on her shoulder, Garcia is snoring in the corner with her knitting in a pile next to her. Morgan and Rossi are nowhere to be seen, but you can't blame them, seeing people they love getting beat up over and over again never gets easier. You can hear the faint sounds of Hotch arguing with someone over the phone in the hallway.
But worst of all is Spencer. He's wide awake and his foot is tapping like crazy on the ground. There are deep and dark eye bags surrounding his eyes and hints at a beard forming on his face. His cane is tossed uncharacteristically on the ground, and he pays it no attention whatever.
You open your mouth to speak, but when you do a stabbing pain shoots through your diaphragm and you gasp. The second Spencer hears you he shoots up and kneels next to the bed, which must be no easy feat.
"Hey, how are you?" He strokes your hair as gently as he can.
You try to speak but no words come out.
"Do you want some water?" You nod, trying to not feel pathetic. The second the glass of water comes into your eye line you knock it out of his hand and it goes shattering onto the floor, waking everyone else in the room up.
You start to cry, feeling guilty and scared about why a glass of water could've terrified you so much. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's just a bunch of sand made into something you can drink out of, it's not a big deal, don't worry." That calms you down a little bit.
You look around to see the rest of the team cradled around you. "How are you feeling honey?" Garcia whispers as if speaking too loudly would mortally wound you.
You reach up and touch your throat, and it burns. There's more confusion, and then JJ is getting her hand cut on the glass she was cleaning, Garcia was whispering too loudly and Emily was touching your arm, and Hotch and Morgan and Rossi were walking in the room and Spencer was pushing a button on your bed and the monitor was beeping and then you were screaming.
Screaming so loudly, screaming in pain, screaming in fear, screaming in confusion, screaming because you were overwhelmed and sad and scared. "Everyone gets out," Spencer says, and everyone quickly does, he knows you best, and right now, everything was too much.
"Wh-what happened" you whisper, throat and lungs still hurting but since you had screamed the worst part was over.
"The unsub kidnapped you, and tried to drown you, your heart stopped in the ambulance, but they brought you back." You remembered "You had been dunked in the water and brought back up at least 15 times, not including when I brought you out.
"You needed 53 stitches and had a punctured lung when we found you." He pauses "You're safe now, we have him in custody and he can never hurt anyone ever again." You let out a breath that you didn't know you had been holding.
"I'm so sorry," You were crying "I forgot you, I'm so sorry. He made everything go away but the water I'm sorry that I forgot you."
"It's okay, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, you were trying to stay alive." He stroked your hair and held your hands gently "He tortured you, when Hankel tortured me all I could think about were the drugs and the pain, you didn't do anything wrong, you survived."
"I survived?"
"Yes."
"Can I tell you something?" You chuckled, your tears had stopped but it was still wet on your face.
"Anything."
"I thought you were an angel when you saved, and now I realize that you weren't my angel, it wasn't magic, and it wasn't godly." Spencer looks puzzled, and you paused to take a deep and painful breath "It was the fact that I am so deeply in love with you, that seeing you love me back felt like heaven.
Spencer stares at you, his mouth closed and his mouth on the floor "You don't have to say anything, just know that-"
His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence. For a moment you forget about the pain in your throat, the burn in your lungs, and the agony all over your body; it was just Spencer.
You pulled away for breath, your breaths dancing with each other.
"I was so scared" he whimpered in fear.
You stroked his hair gently "I was more terrified than I had ever been. I was so horrified that I would wake up tomorrow and my reason for living would be dead. I was more scared than I had been when I thought my dad killed a kid, I was more scared than when Hankel tortured me, I was more scared when I realized that I loved drugs more than my own life.
"You were the person that held my hand when I was hurting so bad I would forget to breathe, and then you weren't here because you were the person in pain and I realized that I loved you because nothing hurt me more than the fear that I could lose the one thing in the world that made me feel okay."
He takes a deep breath and looks at you as deeply in your eyes as you thought could ever be possible. "I love you too, and I promise you I'll never let you go."
His lips meet yours, and through a kiss, you whisper "I'll never forget you again"
And you knew that you had Spencer and everything is going to be okay.
~~
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