iflostreturntosteverogers

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

i respect writers who don’t name their minor side characters. i, however, will absolutely give the market vendor a name, a family, and a deeply emotional reason why they sell apples instead of pears.

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Sup bitches! I’m not dead… surprise. 😂

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

I’m totally in!

Bill Nye, after educating children about science for years, snaps and becomes a supervillain after watching those same children ignore science and continue ruining the planet. You are his nameless henchman.

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Down Boy

Characters: Heisenberg x Reader, Lady Dimitrescu, Mother Miranda, Moreau, Angie, Bela

Warnings: Smut, Knife Play, Blood Play, Orgasm Denial, Pet Play, Muzzling, Degradation, Rope Binding, Begging, Pegging

A/N: This fic is filthy and I’m damn proud of it. Reader is a witch and can snap things into and out existence at will. She’s also six foot three and wearing four inch heels. 

Header: @sorenmarie87​

Beta: @fictionalabyss​

Main Masterlist

Heisenberg Masterlist

        You curl up like a cat in Karl’s lap with a glass of wine. The four Lords meetings were a true test of one’s patience. Between Alcina and Karl’s constant bickering, Angie’s cackling laugh, and Moreau’s whining, you always left with a migraine. You roll your eyes when Karl snaps at one of the others and place a hand on his chest. A warning. You weren’t in the mood for this shit tonight and he very well knew it. He shudders under your touch, but it’s obviously not enough to make him behave. You growl when he nearly dumps you onto the ground in his rush to get in Alcina’s face. “That’s fucking enough!” He goes rigid. You down the rest of your drink and hand the glass over to Bela. 

“Uncle Karl’s gonna get it,” She whispers to her sisters. You silence their giggles with a stern look. 

“You four are insufferable. No closer to a solution and all the two of you can do is argue over nothing!” You gesture between Alcina and Karl. 

“It’s all-“ You cut him off with a snarl. 

“Children. You are children and I am done playing babysitter. We are leaving. Come along, puppy.” His face heats and he bows his head, ignoring the snickering as he follows behind you into the mines. 

“Master, I’m sorry.” 

“Yes, you will be.”

        Karl struggles minutely against the ropes that cover his body and bind his arms against his back. Your rope work is skilled and won’t budge. He knows this. He’s kneeling in the middle of your lush bedroom, somehow both feverish and chilling as his mind runs wild. 

“I’m disappointed in you. I warned you before we went there what would happen if you couldn’t control your mouth.” 

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice. He hadn’t even heard you enter the room, yet there you were lounging in one of the leather chairs that occupied the space. He shivers at the sheer power and dominance coming off of you. He can’t speak around the muzzle you’ve placed on him or he would make another attempt at an apology. 

“I think we need to revisit your training, puppy. You seem to have lost the ability to obey.” His eyes find yours and there’s a calculated malice there. Fear and desire take hold of his heart. You were going to hurt him and enjoy every moment of it. You rise on high black heels, each silent step a strike to his system. You move with a terrifying grace. Reaching out, you gently run your nails along the exposed skin on his face before roughly grabbing his throat. He lets out a surprised sound, eyes widening a fraction. You pull him to his feet, your grip never loosening. You stand seven inches taller than his six foot one stature. “Look at you,” you growl. “Already hard for me.” He whimpers as you run your free hand along his length, nails scraping gently along the pulsing veins. 

You breathe deep, stepping back and releasing your hold on him. It’s unsettling, especially when he feels the ropes disappear from his body. A flash of silver catches his eye. A beautifully ornate dagger is being spun between your nimble fingers. You take advantage of his distraction and shove him back. He hits the plush carpet with a muffled 'oof' and wide eyes. You take one of the impressively sharp heels and press it into his chest. He groans at the pain, pupils lust blown and cock twitching. You smile darkly and laugh. “Is this why you won’t listen to Miranda, hm? Why you’re so fucking mouthy with Alcina?  You want them to hurt you. To punish you. Puppy, all you had to do was ask.” He starts to shake his head frantically as you straddle him. “Oh, Master’s not jealous. I just want answers.” 

You grip the edges of the muzzle, roughly pull him up to you, and unclip the metal buckle holding it in place. “Speak.” 

“Yes, Master.” A fire lights in your eyes. 

“Of course, you do. Because you’re a depraved little puppy, aren’t you?” He nods, face red. “Mm, what do you want, puppy?” 

“I want to be your good boy.” Your answering smile is wicked. 

“That’s fucking pathetic.” He whimpers, cock jumping at the harsh words. You lean in close to his ear and growl. “If you want to be a good boy, then fucking obey.” Licking a stripe up the side of his face, you replace the muzzle and lean back. “You don’t come unless I allow it.” 

He nods in understanding. You push him back to lie against the rug again. Pulling the dagger from where you had dropped it beside you, you shove the tip under his chin. A small trickle of blood trails down his throat. You lean down to lick it away. Chills run up his spine and he moans, rutting his hips up into your ass. “Down, boy,”  You taunt, trailing the tip of the blade down his throat to his chest. You meet his eyes in question and he gives you a firm nod. His yell is muffled behind the black leather that covers his face as you carve into his beautiful skin. He continues to try to thrust up, desperately seeking the friction you’re denying him. “Such a pretty boy, all covered in blood and whimpering like the little whore he is.” 

You swirl your finger in the blood leaking from the wound on his chest. Using it you write on his forehead and arms. Mine, Good Boy, Whore. He shivers at the feeling. You run your hand down your face with a deep breath, leaving streaks of his blood down your face. You rock your hips against him. You had teased him all day in your black skirt and no panties, bending over every chance you could and never letting him touch. He desperately wants to grab your thighs, push his thumb in your slit, and see just how wet your acts of violence have gotten you. He wants to, but he knows better. He doesn’t have permission and damn it he wants to come at some point tonight. “This is for me, puppy. I’m using you for my pleasure and my pleasure only. You do not come.” 

He nods his understanding, biting back a moan as you line him up and sink yourself down onto his cock. You place your hands on his shoulders, rocking your hips slowly. You lean back and place one hand on his knee, allowing him to be deeper. “You may touch,” you pant out. His hands fly to body. He rips the buttons of your dress shirt open, giving him access to your breasts. His hands engulf your breasts, kneading and pinching at your nipples. You moan, head thrown back and back bowing. “You’re such a good little toy. Make me come.” He groans, nodding eagerly. You increase your speed as one of his hands skates down your body. He bunches your skirt around your upper thighs and licks his lips under the muzzle. What he wouldn’t give for a taste of you. He presses his thumb against your clit, slow circles that draw out your moans. You clench around him, sucking him into you more with every rock of your hips. He matches your speed, using all of his will power not to blow his load in you. You scream out your release, your come covering him. “Holy shit,” he mumbles behind the leather as you collapse onto his chest, catching your breath. He takes a minute to hold you in his arms while you murmur praises and degrading remarks to him. 

When you gather yourself, you stand gracefully and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and stands. You keep a surprisingly gentle hold on him as you guide him to the chair you had occupied earlier. He looks at you confused, having assumed you were taking him to the bed.  “You are not bleeding on my velvet duvet.” You help him onto the chair, one knee placed on each arm so he’s spread nice and wide for you, chest against the leather back. He can see himself, and you behind him, perfectly in your large dressing mirror. 

You make quite the sight with your white dress shirt stained in his blood, your face streaked with it, and your own come dripping down your gorgeous thighs. It’s so fucking hot he can barely stand it. He squirms, earning a hard slap to his ass that jostles the plug nestled inside him. “Stay still, puppy.” He watches you in the mirror as you pull on a strap-on, eyes drifting to check the size you’ve chosen for tonight. He moans at the sight of the cock hanging from your hips. He should’ve known you’d choose that one: red and purple, a seven and half inch shaft, and a four inch knot towards the base. 

You gently work the large plug from him, pulling out and pushing back in. His hips rock with the rhythm, his moans filling the air. He tenses and you pause, causing him to let out a frustrated groan. “I told you. You’re not coming without my permission and even then you’ll beg.” He bows his head. You reach forward, fingers running through his hair. You tug on it, pulling the plug free with the other hand. “Such a good boy.” His shoulders sag as you send the plug away, a bottle of lube appearing in its place. You coat your cock and his ass in it. He shivers and you smile. One hand scrapes down his spine, leaving beautiful red marks in its wake, the other lines your tip up with his hole. You show no mercy slamming into him. He whimpers, jolting forward. You grab his shoulder pulling him back towards you, fingers working to take off the muzzle. “I want to hear you.” 

“Please,” his begging starts immediately. “Please, Master. I need you, need to come so bad.” You hum, thrusting in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. Reaching around to grip his cock in your hand, you match the pace of your hips. He tries to push himself into your hand and back onto your cock. You laugh. 

“Look at you,” you sneer as you dig your fingers into his ass, drawing blood with your nails. “Such a whore, you can’t decide which way you want to be fucked. You want to come?”

“Yes,” he nods frantically. “Yes, please, Master.” You increase your speed with no warning. From achingly slow to brutally fast. His moans fill the room, satisfaction filling you. His muscles tense and he whimpers still trying to hold onto his willpower. Still trying to be your good boy. 

“Come.” It’s one word. One simple command, but that’s all it takes for him to let go. He yells out as comes; your name, your title, nonsensical words, and moans. Come covers your hand and the leather chair below him. “Good boy,” you coo in his ear. He hums, panting. You gently pull out of him and snap your strap-on away, before turning him over. He falls into the chair, looking up at you with the sweetest submissive eyes. Cradling his cheek, you kiss his lips and straddle his lap. “Think you can give me one more?”

“Anything for you,” he whispers. 

“It’ll be quick and then a bath together.” You let him line himself up, lowering yourself down. Pressing your foreheads together, you lace your fingers in his hair and rock. He won’t last long. He’s too sensitive. He digs his fingers in your hips, his moans almost a choked sob. 

“Too much.” 

“You can do it,” you coo, kissing his jaw. “We come together this time.” You reach down, guiding one of his hands to your clit. He takes the hint and rubs circles around it, matching your pace. You clench around him, and kiss away the tear that escapes his eye. “So good for me.” He ducks his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking with fervor. You tip your head back and moan. 

“I’m gonna-“

“Me too. Come for me, my love.” And he does. Thick, warm ropes of come fill you. You clamp down onto him, soaking him in your release. You fall forward into his arms, murmuring praises to him. Pride fills your chest as you look at him. “You did so well. I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you. For everything.” 

“Of course, my dear.” You run your thumb across his cheek, lovingly. “Let me go draw us a bath.” He helps you untangle yourself from him and stand on slightly shaky legs. You rid yourself of your clothes and walk into the bathroom. His eyes follow your every move, the feeling of his stare making you smirk. 

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers​, @jassiejj2118

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

writing can’t be that hard. all it is is just putting words in front of each other, right?

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Just For Me?

Characters: Rumi Usagiyama (Mirko), Shouta Aizawa x Hizashi Yamada, Hitoshi Shinsou, Kimiko (OFC), Keigo Takami (Hawks), Eito (OMC), Isamu (OMC), Nori Shizuka (OFC)

Warnings: Abuse, Angst, Lying, Comfort, Fluff

A/N: This is part one of two in my soulmate singing au mini series. 

Header/Beta: @sorenmarie87​

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

        The foster care system sucked ass. That’s all there is to it. Kimiko learned early on no one was going to protect her but herself. When she was four a purple haired little boy joined the orphanage, and she protected him too. Hitoshi was muzzled constantly, except for meal times, due to a “villainous” quirk. It made him vulnerable and pissed the fiery little girl off. She fought for both of them. By the time the two were five, they were inseparable and Kimiko was forced to wear a quirk suppression collar. “Too many fights. Too much trouble. You can’t keep damaging the goods, little villain,” the orphanage director had seethed while she locked the collar in place. 

Hitoshi was adopted shortly after, much to the director's annoyance, by two nice men. He begged and pleaded with them to take his best friend too. They told him they couldn’t adopt more than one, but they had a friend who might be able to get his friend. It honestly broke their hearts to separate the two, and leave the bruised little girl behind, but their hands really were tied this time. Aizawa placed the call that night after tucking Hitoshi into bed, “Rumi, we’ve got someone you should meet.” 

Without Hitoshi, Kimiko was on her own, and without her quirk she was vulnerable. She was attacked that night. The two boys pulled her from her bed and used their quirks on her. They scattered when the director came up the stairs, leaving Kimiko bleeding on the floor clutching her ears. The director merely scoffed, kicked at the little girl, and drug her to the closet by her hair. She locked her in there, not bothering to worry about the kid she’d deemed too much trouble to care about. The director had the older teens clean away the blood leading to the closet the next morning. No need for anyone to see or know. 

Rumi arrived late that afternoon with Keigo in tow. “Are you sure this is the place, Rumes?” He scratches the back of his neck, staring at the gothic looking building. “It looks less like a place for children and more like a vampire’s castle or something.” 

“Agreed, but this is the address Shouta gave me.”  Rumi shakes out her hands and knocks on the door of the building. Shouta had called her the night before to tell her about a little girl that was here and desperately needed a home. 

“She’s a really cute kid. Hitoshi screamed, cried, and begged us to take her with us. We couldn’t, but we know you’re looking into adopting a kid too. She had bruises and a quirk suppression collar on her. Hitoshi said they came from fighting, from trying to protect both of them. I have a bad feeling about that place and we are going to open an investigation, but we promised him we would find someone for her.” 

“I’ll go tomorrow. Just give me the address.”

A skeleton-like woman with her hair pulled back painfully tight opens the door to greet them. Her eyes widen and a greedy smile spreads across her face. She gestures for the two to enter and shuts the door behind them. “I’m Nori Shizuka. How can I help you fine pros today?” 

“Rumi Usagiyama and this is my friend Keigo.” Rumi points to him and he bows slightly to the woman. “I’m here to adopt a little girl. Friends of ours were here yesterday and told me about her. Kimiko?” Rumi catches the quick frown on the woman’s face before she schools her features. Keigo seems to catch it as well, making eye contact with his friend. 

“I’m afraid Kimiko ran away late last night. Poor dear. However, I have several other lovely children you can meet.” Rumi’s ear twitches. This woman was lying, she could feel it in her gut. 

“Might as well. Please show us the way.” The director walks ahead of the two, giving them a brief tour of the bottom floor before taking them upstairs towards the bedrooms. Both pros are on edge, watching and listening for any sign of trouble. When they pass a supposed linen closet Keigo drops a feather, sending it under the door. He comes to a stop when he picks up faint labored breathing. He grabs Rumi’s arm and turns her around to face the closet. 

“Oh, I told you. It’s just extra sheets for the children’s beds and things. No need to open it.” The woman is visibly nervous. Rumi looks over the door again, spotting a small stain of blood near the bottom.

“Right. I’d like to see for myself.” She glares at the woman, daring her to stop her. Keigo steps aside and allows Rumi to open the door. They gasp at the sight in front of them. Keigo immediately grabs the director, slamming her against the wall. Rumi kneels down next to the child before her. There’s dried blood running out of her ears, a nasty gash across her forehead, and she’s struggling to breathe. The child’s eyes barely open when Rumi removes her from the closet, whimpering in pain. “Take care of that bitch, Kei. I’ll get the little bunny to the hospital.” 

       When Kimiko wakes up she panics. She can’t hear anything and she has no idea where she is. The last thing she remembers is light and red and bunny ears. Looking around the room she’s in, she realizes she’s in a hospital room. She tries to pull her knees up to her chest, but it’s painful to move and gives up opting to scoot down as far as she can to hide under the blankets. 

Rumi slowly opens the door to the little girl’s room, worried about startling the poor thing. Not that she would hear her anyway. Permanent hearing damage, a broken rib, a concussion, multiple cuts and bruises. The doctors were adamant she was lucky to be alive. They’d found her just in time. She looks around the room, noticing the shaking lump under the covers. Rumi walks over to the child’s bed and gently pulls back the blanket. Scared, green eyes meet hers. “Why can’t I hear anything?” Rumi sighs. Her poor kid. God she hopes the kid can read. Holding up a finger, she steps away and grabs a notepad, writing as neatly as possible. 

Can you read? A firm nod. Okay good, that makes this a little easier. Your ears are hurt. You can’t hear anymore. The little one looks up with sad eyes and reaches up to tug on her ears. 

“Isamu and Eito. They p-pulled me out of bed while I was asleep and hurt me. Eito used his quirk to cut me and he hurt my ears. Isamu just used his feet and fists.” Rumi frowns. Children did this? 

How old are they?

“Isamu is ten and Eito is eleven. Before Shizuka-san put the collar on me, I used my quirk to keep them from hurting me and Hito. It was revenge.” Logically, Rumi knows she can’t kick the shit out of children, but fuck does she want to. At the very least she will be pressing charges. The bitch director was already on her way to prison. 

Did Shizuka-san put you in the closet? 

“Yeah, after she kicked me and dragged me up there by my hair. Am I going back to the orphanage?”

No, bunny. I’m adopting you. You’re going to come home with me. My name is Rumi Usagiyama or Mirko when I’m on duty. 

“I’m Kimiko. I’m five and three quarters. Um, I have a fire quirk. My best friend was adopted by Pro Heroes. His name is Hitoshi.” Rumi smiles down at the child. 

I know Hitoshi. His Papa and Daddy told me about you. I went to the orphanage just for you and I’m so happy I found you little bunny. 

“Just for me?” She looks at Rumi in disbelief. “I’m happy you found me too. Can I see Hito?”

Of course, but you have to rest right now. Okay?

“Okay, mama.” Rumi’s heart nearly explodes. She sets the notepad down close by and climbs into the bed with Kimiko. The little one cuddles into her side and quickly falls back asleep. Watching her peaceful features and running her fingers through the bunny’s hair, Rumi decides she’d burn the world down for this child.

       “How is she doing?” Shouta passes a cup of coffee to Rumi as they sit at the kitchen table, their kids playing in the other room. 

“Surprisingly well. She sleeps in my bed at night more often than not, but that’s perfectly fine with me. Thankfully she could already read and sign, so she has communication and I’m pretty sure she’s picking up lip reading. I’m the one taking sign language classes. Thanks, by the way, for setting those up.”

“Yeah, of course. We would need them too, if it wasn’t for Zashi already going deaf. Hitoshi goes mute pretty often and prefers to sign.” Rumi shakes her head and scowls. He reaches out to pat her hand. “I know. That place was hell for our kids and I’d love to burn it down. At least you and Takami were able to shut it down and send the bitch off to rot.”

“Yeah, though I wish I could be alone in a room with her for just 10 minutes.” Childish giggles fill their ears and make the two adults smile fondly. “Hey, have you noticed Hitoshi singing some silly song about an agency bakugou?” Shouta thinks for a moment before shaking his head. 

“No, I don’t believe I have. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out where she got it from. I tried to ask but she just said she heard it from the voice. Which is super creepy and ominous.” She shivers dramatically. “At this point I wouldn’t put it past her to just be fucking with me. She’s such a little spitfire.” He laughs, downs his coffee, and stands to grab a refill.

“Told you she was perfect for you.” He looks back over his shoulder at Rumi with a thoughtful look. “She said she heard it from the voice?” Rumi nods, wondering where his train of thought is going. “Rumi, that might be her soulmate. I started hearing Zashi and Oboro around her age, maybe a little younger. Silly little children’s songs or things they made up. It wasn’t until we met at UA that I knew it was them, but still.”

“That makes sense actually. I honestly probably would’ve never thought of that. The sperm and egg donors had my soulmate removed when I was a baby.” Shouta gives her a horrified look. 

“I can’t imagine… It was hard enough when we lost Oboro.” Rumi shrugs, looking down into her cup.

“You can’t miss something you never really had. My friends were finding their soulmates while I was training to be a hero. I always thought I just didn’t have one or that they hated signing or something. I found out when trying to find my birth certificate for school one day, just stumbled across the paperwork. After a very loud and violent confrontation, I ran away. I was fifteen, I think. Haven’t spoken to the assholes since.” 

“I’m sorry, Rumi.” 

“It’s okay, Shouta. I’m not alone anymore, and neither is Kimi. I owe you everything.” He starts to open his mouth when the two kids barrel into the room. Hitoshi is hot on Kimiko’s heels, both laughing hard. Kimiko leaps into Rumi’s arms and grabs her face in her little hands. 

“Mama,” she says with a serious look on her adorable face. “Tell Hito that you put the cereal in the bowl before the milk.” Shouta hides his snickers behind his hand as Rumi nods very seriously at her daughter before turning to the purple haired boy with the shit eating grin. 

“You are just like your Daddy.” Shouta outright cackles at that. “Cereal goes first you heathens.”

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers​, @fictionalabyss​, @jassiejj2118

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Bullies and Bee Stings

Characters: Dean, Reader, J.C. (OC), Sadie-Jo Bennett (OFC), Zawa the Cat, Benny, Ms. Collins (OFC), Sam 

Warnings: Angst, Bullying, Assault, Attempted Murder, Low Self Worth, Some Comfort 

Beta: @fictionalabyss​

Header: @sorenmarie87​

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

       Being the new kid in a tiny ass town was not going as well as Dean had hoped it would. Not that you had told him that of course. You really didn’t wanna burden him with more of your shit and it was just some middle school bullies. You could handle it on your own. 

J.C. discreetly squeezes your knee under the lunch table when Sadie-Jo Bennett cackles after asking if you were going to start looking more ‘human’ at some point because “you’re so disgustingly scarred and skinny. There is just no way you’re not one of those aliens or something.” It’s stupid and her little groupies laugh like dumb hyenas, but it gets to you. You grit your teeth and will yourself not to break her nose. Her dad is the fucking mayor and you don’t want to cause trouble for Dean. It’s the only reason you haven’t dealt with her. Her dad could get Dean fired or worse, and it would be all your fault. 

“Are you listening to me?!” She screeches, her face red with anger at your lack of reaction. 

“No,” You deadpan. She sneers and before you can react grabs a fistful of hair, slamming your face down onto the lunch table. “Then listen to me now.”

“What the fuck, Sadie-Jo?!” J.C. jumps up and reaches for her, but one of the groupies grabs them. 

“You are nothing. You’re a fucking bug for me to step on. Start respecting me and bowing down like everyone else or I’m going to make your life a living hell. Understood?” She pushes your face harder into the table with each word. 

“Loud and clear, bitch,” you grind out. She lifts your head again and slams it back into the table one more time before walking away. Your eyes sting and you know you’ll have a nice bruise later. You lay with your head against the table, eyes closed and shoulders shaking, trying to take deep breaths and calm down. J.C. startles you when they place a gentle hand on your back. “Are you okay?” 

“Me?! They barely touched me. Let’s go to the nurse so she can give you some ice for your cheek.” You shake your head. They sigh and rub small circles on your back. “Have you told Dean and your uncle about her?” 

“No, I can handle it. No need to get them involved.” 

“But they could-“

“No, J.C.. They don’t need to worry about this. I’ve not been with them very long and the way Dean got custody of me was really chaotic and stressful. I don’t need to add more shit to that. I’m lucky he wants me as it is.” You sit up and stretch. They look like they want to say more but let it go for now. “C’mon we better get to math.” 

Two days later you’re sneaking into the bunker with a busted lip and the bruise from the assault on Monday a nice deep purple that paints your left cheek. You can only hope Dean is still at work and Uncle Sammy isn't home from his business trip yet. Tears streak angrily down your face as you set your backpack on your desk. Zawa raises his head from the top tier of his cat tree with a meow and scrambles down to cuddle when you face plant onto the bed. He kneads his paws on your back before curling up and purring. The vibrations and weight help you get your emotions under control. You take your iPad off of your nightstand and pull up FaceTime. 

“Hey, darlin’... What the fuck happened?” You give a watery laugh and wipe at your face gingerly. 

“Hi, Benny. I fell on my way home. No big deal.” 

“We both know that’s bullshit. Try again.” You sigh and catch Benny up on all things Sadie-Jo Bennett. “Let me guess. You haven’t mentioned this to Dean?” He sighs when you bite your lip and look away. “Darlin’, he can’t help you if you don’t talk to him.”

“I don’t want him to help me, Benny. He’s done enough. I don’t want him to have more to worry about when it comes to me. That’s not fair.”

“So it’s fair that you’re getting the shit beat out of you by some two bit little bitch? You know Dean loves you and he wants to take care of you.”

“I know. It’s just… she’s the mayor’s daughter. I’m no one. Who are they going to believe? They could hurt Dean. Take his job away or something and he really likes his job. It’d be all my fault and all because I couldn’t handle some stupid bully. I don’t want that.” 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. The actions of adults do not fall on the shoulders of children. Not only that but that is a worse case scenario and it’s highly doubtful that it would happen. Talk to someone about this.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Okay, smartass,” he chuckles and you smile. “Talk to someone who’s not thirteen and a half hours away, and can help you. I also want you to talk to your therapist about how you see yourself. You are worth so much more than you think and she can help you see that I bet.” 

“Fine,” you whine. He smiles and blows you a kiss. 

“Good girl. So tell me what else is new with you.” 

       “Man, I hate baseball. Why can’t we play soccer instead?” J.C. laughs at your whining as they walk to the field with you for gym class. 

“Well, probably because we played soccer last week, Miss I wanna be the next Megan Rapinoe. We can’t all be soccer stars.” You pout at them and roll your eyes. 

“You whined just as much when we switched from basketball to volleyball last month. I’m fine with that as long as you’re going to be my non-binary Sue Bird.” You smirk. J.C. smiles and looks around before kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Deal.” 

You make it halfway through the gym class without incident. The last one being your busted lip a week ago. The gym teacher, Ms. Collins, turns her back to make a phone call and Sadie-Jo starts running her mouth while she stands in front of you at home plate. You try your best to ignore her, eventually getting fed up and just removing your face guard to go talk to J.C. at the pitcher’s mound. Big mistake, though you never thought she’d hit you in the face with a baseball bat. You stumble forward, black spots dancing across your vision. “What the fuck?!” Someone yells. You’re too focused on not passing out or throwing up to notice who it is. There’s blood in your eye and your face is throbbing. Someone has a hand on your back protectively.

“What happened here?” Ms. Collins asks, there’s a nervous edge to her voice as she looks between you and Sadie-Jo. 

“She tripped and hit her head, Ms. Collins,” Sadie-Jo answers in a sickly sweet tone. There’s an underlying threat that everyone reads. Ms. Collins grits her teeth and sighs. 

“J.C. take Ms. Winchester here to the nurse and get her looked at.” J.C. nods and starts to help you up. You sway when you’re upright and they hold tightly to your waist. Sadie-Jo steps up and places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch away from her touch. 

“I’ll take her, Ms. Collins.” J.C. starts to protest, but the teacher shakes her head. 

“Okay, Sadie-Jo.” You whimper when she takes hold of you and all but drags you back to the school building. 

“I told you I was going to make your life hell. The best part is no one is going to help you. They’re all too afraid of Daddy to stop me. We’re gonna have some fun or I guess I will. Heard you were allergic to bees.” Your eyes widen and you start shaking your head.

“Please.”

“Oh no, you had your chance to be good and listen.” She opens the door to one of the supply closets and shoves you in. You’re so dizzy, you don’t catch yourself, and land roughly on the concrete floor. She smiles vindictively down at you before grabbing a broom and banging it against the ceiling. “Bet you didn’t know there’s a giant bees nest up there did you? Works out perfectly if you ask me. Bye bye now.” She slams the door shut and something scrapes against the floor. You can only assume she’s pushed something in front of the door. Angry buzzing spikes your adrenaline. You fish your phone out of your leggings pocket and dial Dean’s number. 

“Dean,” you whimper when he answers. You can hear him lay whatever he’s working with aside to give you his full attention. 

“Hey, kiddo. Aren’t you in school? What’s wrong?” 

“I need your help. Please, help me.” You start crying, letting the dam break. “I… I’m locked in a closet and there’s pissed off bees. Please, Dean.”

“Deep breath, sweetheart. I’m coming for you. I’m leaving right now, only a few minutes away, okay?” He shouts to someone in the shop and then you hear his car rumble to life. You shriek when you look up and see a couple of bees flying above your head. “I know it’s hard, but try to stay calm. I’m on my way.” 

“I’m scared, Dad. Please,” you sob. 

“I’m coming, baby. I-“ the line goes dead and you curse your dead phone, tossing it to the ground. One of the bees lands on your arm and you hold your breath in fear. When it crawls up closer to your face, you shake your arm out of instinct and it stings you.

“Oh fuck… Please hurry, dad.”

        An annoying beeping sound wakes you up. You grumble and reach out for your alarm clock. “Whatcha doin, kiddo?” You open your eyes, squinting against the lights, and make eye contact with Sam. “You scared the shit out of us.” You blink at him confused before everything rushes back to you. 

“Oh shit.” He nods his head solemnly.

“Yeah, oh shit.” You groan, closing your eyes again. You were going to have to tell them everything. They were probably so pissed. The two of you sit in silence for a while with you refusing to open your eyes again. He sighs. “I'm going to grab a coffee. I’ll be back. Want anything?” You shake your head and listen to him leave. Calloused fingers suddenly smooth over your furrowed brow. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You tense at Dean’s voice. “Look at me, I’m not mad at you or whatever you’re thinking.”

“You should be,” you mumble, opening your eyes to look at him. He sits on the edge of your hospital bed and runs his thumb over your cheek. 

“Why?” 

“Because I caused you more trouble. I scared you. I’m just a burden, Dean. Why don’t you just send me back?” 

“Because I love you. You’re not a burden. You didn’t cause me more trouble. Am I a little hurt you felt like you couldn’t come to me about whatever is clearly going on? Yeah, but I also know you’re not used to relying on people for help and probably wanted to handle it on your own.” You pick at the blanket covering you. 

“I’m being bullied by the mayor’s daughter.” 

“I wouldn’t call attempted murder bullying. How long has this been going on?”

“Since I started school…” 

“Baby, that was four months ago.” He runs a hand over his face. “Tell me everything.” So you do. You tell him how it started with simple verbal assaults and taunts and somehow very quickly turned into this mess you were in. He holds you while you break down and explain about why you didn’t want to tell him, reassures you that no job is worth his daughter’s happiness. He reminds you he loves you over and over and that he won’t let you go. 

“I love you, Dad,” you whisper as you fall asleep that night in his bed. His smile is wide and his eyes shine in the darkness. 

“I love you too, kiddo. Get some rest.” He’ll burn that school to the ground tomorrow, take down every adult that stood by while his girl was tortured and hurt. But for tonight he’ll be your safety and your comfort.

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27, @samfreakingwinchester, @akshi8278​, @jassiejj2118

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Can I please be added to your permanent tag list? Your works are so good! You are especially gifted at angst, I love it so much! It hurts so good 😊

Of course! Thank you so much! ❤️

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

House Full of Strays

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam, J.C. (OC), Zawa the Cat

Warnings: Fluff, Sneaking around, Dad!Dean

Beta: @fictionalabyss​

Header: @sorenmarie87​

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

       You enter the bunker quietly, tiptoeing down the stairs and around each corner. You try to keep a lookout for your dad- your Dean -Dean, a lookout for Dean, but forget all about one person. Uncle Sammy. He comes around the corner to the dorms at the same time as you and you crash into him. He catches you by the shoulders and chuckles. “Sorry, kiddo didn’t see you.” Your eyes widen and stammer out an ‘it’s fine’. He looks at you carefully, taking in your wild hair and eyes. “You good? You look jumpy.” 

“Me? Jumpy? No,” you draw out. “I’m fine. Just a really long day.” You shift your backpack, a mistake, and cough to cover to try and cover up the sound that comes from it. Sam smirks. He’s not stupid, but honestly, he wants to see how you sneaking something in will play out. 

“Okay, if you say so. Dean’s working until nine tonight so I’m gonna run out to the store. Want to go with me?” Perfect. Dad- Dean being gone meant more time to figure out what to do with your little surprise. 

“No, no,” you wave him off. “I’m good! Thanks, Uncle Sammy!” You slip past him and hurry into your bedroom, shutting the door. Opening the bag a black cat pops its head out and meows at you. “Okay, okay. You’re free to roam, but only in here. Da-Dean and Uncle Sammy might freak if they see you.” He jumps from the bag, stretching. You watch him explore for a moment before taking your homework out of your bag and sitting at your desk. 

       Sam knocks lightly on your bedroom door. When you don’t answer he quietly pushes it open, watching for the cat he knows is running around your room. You’re slumped over your homework, softly snoring. A black ball of fur pops its head out from under your bed to investigate the intruder. Sam kneels down, placing the bags of stuff he’d bought for you on the ground, and holds his hand out. The cat slinks out, checking him out. He chuckles and picks it up. “Uncle Sammy?” You rub at your eyes. They go wide when you realize he’s holding your cat. “Um, I-“

“What’s its name?” He asks, grinning at you. 

“Zawa, short for Aizawa.” 

“Aizawa? Like the teacher from that anime we’ve been watching?” You blush and nod. “Cute. I bought you some stuff for Zawa while I was at the store.” 

“Thanks, Uncle Sammy. You’re not gonna tell Dean are you?” 

“Nah, this is more fun. Wanna see how long it takes him to notice you snuck a cat in.” 

It takes three days for Dean to start realizing something is going on. He’s sniffling and sneezing while he tries to make breakfast when you come out of your room for school. “You look cute, sweetheart,” he says as he sets a plate in front of you. 

“Thanks, Dean.” You smile brightly at him then grimace when he sneezes and rubs at his eyes. “Uh, you good?” 

“Yeah, just allergies. Honestly, it’s like there’s a cat in here or something.” You nearly choke on your food when he says that. 

“You’re allergic to cats?” Your voice is too high, too suspicious, so you cough and try to calm down. He gives you a look you can’t quite decipher before turning back to the stove. 

“Yeah, but I’m sure it’s the trees or something. You know with fall being here and all. You better get going, kid, or you’ll be late.” You jump up, thankful for a reason to escape. Placing your plate in the sink, you kiss his cheek and run back to your room to grab your bag and say a quiet bye to Zawa. 

Sam comes through the door as you race off to school. “Bye, Uncle Sammy!” 

“Bye, kiddo!” He makes his way to the kitchen to grab water and sees his brother with his head down on the table. Dean raises his head at the sound of footsteps worried you had forgotten something. “Dude, you like shit.” He rolls his eyes and flips his brother off.

“Yeah, I’ve got an appointment with an allergist since my darling daughter has decided to sneak a cat into the bunker.” 

“So you know about Zawa?”

“Didn’t know it’s name, though apparently you do.” Dean glares at his brother, making Sam laugh. “It’s hard to miss when the little shit makes me sick. She doesn’t know I know. Keep it that way for now.”

“My lips are sealed.” Sam makes the motion of locking his lips and throwing the key away.

“I’m sure they are.”

       You spend your day in a fog, worrying over what to do about Zawa and Dean. You don’t want to give him up, but you also don't want to be the reason Dean is sick. You walk your best friend home. They hold your hand and talk the entire time, thankfully not offended by your silence. “Hey,” they flick your forehead and giggle at your shocked expression. “This is my house. Are you sure you’re okay to walk the rest of the way to your place?” The concern in their eyes is evident. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, J.C..” You give them a hug and squeak when they kiss the tip of your nose. 

“No worries, pumpkin. Just be safe.” 

When you get home, you drop your bag in shock at the sight of Dean holding Zawa on the couch. He smirks at you and beckons you over. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out immediately. “I didn’t know you were allergic to cats, but I also probably wouldn’t have left him behind. I don’t know. He looked like he needed a family and some love. And, and, and…”

“Calm down, sweetheart. I’ve known since the day you brought him home. I was trying to give you time to come to me with it, but then the little fur ball’s dander started getting to me. I can’t blame you for bringing in a stray. It’s a family thing.” He bumps your shoulder and you giggle. “I can see the worry in your eyes. You can keep Zawa, but you have to bathe him with a special shampoo and clean the bunker really well until the shots the allergist is giving me start to take effect. Deal?”

“Really?” He nods his head and shifts Zawa over to your lap. “Deal! You’re the best, Dean. Thank you!” You wrap an arm around his waist and he kisses your temple. 

“You’re a great kid, and you deserve good things. If that means I have to take allergy shots every week and a strong daily med for you to keep the fur ball, then so be it. Why did you name him Zawa?” You blush and duck your head.

“You know the teacher on My Hero Academia, the anime I’ve had you guys watching with me?” He nods. “His name is Aizawa. I thought it fit, because Zawa kinda looks like him.”

“I can see that. Now, you and I are gonna prank your Uncle Sammy. Got any ideas?” You grin mischievously, petting Zawa. Dean nearly laughs at how much you look like a small crime lord in that moment.

“I might have a few.”

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers​, @hobby27​, @samfreakingwinchester​, @akshi8278​​

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Karl Heisenberg Masterlist

Series

One Shots

Down Boy

Drabbles

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Mirko Masterlist

Series

Falling On Deaf Ears

One Shots

Drabbles

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Hawks Masterlist

Series

One Shots

Drabbles

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Take all the time you need.

Love you Mel ❤️

I know I say every other week that I'm getting my shit together and I do, for a week, and then it falls through again.

I'm so sorry about that.

I'm trying, I promise.

I've been having a really hard time, harder than I've been willing to admit. My panic attacks are crippling, and I wake up in one at least every other morning. I am overwhelmed before my day truly even starts. And it's all so bad that my depression is back in full swing.

BUT I'M GETTING HELP!!

I have a new family doctor that I saw today and I'm getting a couple of the meds back that I was on 6 years ago. Celexa and Ativan are back in my life and I check in again in two months to see if more is needed.

I'm working really hard on getting better, being better, and being here.

Thank you all so much for your patience with me. 🥰

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Welcome Home

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam, Willow (OFC)

Warnings: Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Nightmare, Tragic Backstory Unlocked, Emotional Turmoil, Panic, Trust Being Earned, Minor Character Death Mentioned, Comfort

Beta: @fictionalabyss

Header: @sorenmarie87

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

       You cross your bare feet across the dash of Dean’s car and pull your new sunglasses down your nose. He glances over at you watching him, frowning a bit. “Dean,” you whine. 

“Feet down, Princess.” He snaps his fingers and points to the floorboard. You roll your eyes at him but comply if only to get what you want. “Thank you. Now, what are you whining about?” 

“Can we stop and get some snacks?” He looks at you over his sunglasses. 

“Didn’t we just eat like a couple of hours ago?” 

“And? I want some candy and junk food.” You turn towards him as best you can in your seat belt and give him puppy eyes. “Pretty, pretty please?” He sighs and you know he’s going to give in. 

“Only because I need gas. You can run in and grab a few things. After that, we’re staying on the road for a little longer and then finding a place to crash for the night. Deal?”

“Deal.” You smile as he pulls off the interstate and into the nearest gas station. He hands you a twenty from his wallet and shoos you inside with instructions to at least get him a mini pie and a coffee before blowing the rest on your junk food. 

You browse through the aisles picking up different candies and chips as you go. You’re standing in front of the drink cooler when a hand lands on your shoulder. “I haven’t forgotten your shit, Dean. I promise.” The hand squeezes too tight and you look up into cold brown eyes. “Get your hand off me.” 

“Nah, I think I want to take a pretty little girl like you with me,” the man holding you sneers. Your blood runs cold. You try to jerk away, but his grip tightens painfully. You’re starting to shake and desperately trying to think of how to escape. Surely Dean would see him taking you and stop him. Right? “Keep that fucking mouth shut and walk, little girl.” He pushes you towards the back exit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You jerk away again this time breaking free of his grasp. You drop everything in your arms and sprint towards the front of the convenience store. He manages to catch up and wrap his fingers around your arm. “You’ll pay for that little stunt, bitch.”

“Let me go!” You scream, pulling at his hand. He turns you back towards the back exit, shoving you at it again.  A gun cocking from behind makes him pause. 

“Get your fucking hands off my kid.” You nearly sob at the sound of Dean’s voice. The guy slowly and reluctantly unwraps his fingers from you. You shove past him and into Dean’s chest. He keeps one arm wrapped protectively around you and his gun trained on the man while the cashier calls the cops. When they arrive, a female officer approaches you carefully. 

“Hey, I’m Officer Steele. I hear you’ve had a pretty rough day.” You refuse to let Dean go, turning your head further into him.  He runs his hand over your head. 

“She’s been through hell. Does she really have to talk right this second?” 

“We need her statement, sir. Are you her father?” 

“I am. Listen, a really good friend of mine is a sheriff in South Dakota. Can we get your station information? Jodi can take her statement and send it over to you when she’s not so traumatized.” The officer hesitates, taking in the way you’re shaking and clinging to Dean. 

“Okay. Yeah, I think we can do that.” She gives Dean the information and leaves. “Get her home.”

“Yes ma’am.” He does his best to get you to the car with the way you’re holding onto him. He opens the car door, waiting patiently for you to untangle yourself, but you only grip his leather jacket tighter. He pries your hands away just long enough to kneel in front of you, then they’re tight around his neck. He wraps his arms around you and rubs your back. “Princess, you gotta let me go so I can get you home. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster and that bastard put his hands on you, but I promise you no one else will touch you without your consent. No one else is going to hurt you while I’m around. Okay?” After a minute you nod your head and slowly let go of him, getting in the Impala. He shuts your door for you and sprints around to his side. When he gets settled you lay across the seat with your head in his lap. He shrugs out of his jacket and covers your still-shaking body with it. “Get some rest, sweetheart.” 

Dean gently shakes you awake sometime later. You sit up and stretch, his jacket falling to the floorboard. “C’mon let’s get breakfast and then we’ll finish up this drive home.” You blink at him confused. “I didn’t want to stop at some shitty motel and have to wake you up, so I just drove straight through the night.” He shrugs and motions for you to hurry. You scramble out, shivering a bit at the chilly morning air. Dean reaches back in to grab his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders before shutting the car door and walking towards a building. You pull it tighter around you as you follow close behind, enjoying the warmth and Dean’s comforting scent. He holds the door open for you as you enter the small diner. The bright lights and sounds are overwhelming. You think to bolt straight back to the car and hide from it when Dean grabs your hand gently. “I’ve got you, remember?” 

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. You let him guide you into a booth. A waitress bounces over to the two of you with a bright smile. She passes out menus and pulls out a little notebook and pen. 

“Hi, guys! What can I get you two to drink?” She’s much too cheery for this early in the morning. You huff and sink back into the booth. You just want to go- to Dean’s? Home? He’d called it your home. He’d called you his kid. Your eyes widen a fraction at the realization. Dean sees your inner turmoil and turns to the waitress, flashing her a charming smile. 

“Two coffees with lots of cream and sugar, please, darlin’.” She grins and bobs her head before bouncing away again. “Hey, sweetheart, look at me.” You do as he says, meeting his green eyes with fear and anxiety. “What’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” 

“You called me your kid.” 

“You are my kid.” 

“You said I have a home.” 

“You do have a home.” You pull his jacket impossibly closer, trying to hide within the leather. “You’re overwhelmed,” he states plainly. It’s clear to see and unsurprising based on the last week. Hell the last several years it would seem. You just nod. “That’s understandable. Why don’t we take baby steps? Right now we’ll focus on eating food. Does that sound good?” 

“Mhm.” 

“That’s my girl,” he says with a proud smile.

       When you get back in the car after breakfast you immediately change Dean’s music and put your sunglasses on. Anyone else and he’d invoke his ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’ rule, but he’s happy to see you coming back after the gas station incident. You roll the window down and let your arm hang out. You look relaxed and like the teenager you are. 

“Hey, Dean. Thank you for saving me,” you say, not taking your eyes off the tree line flying past. 

“I’m always gonna save you.” Those words hold so much weight. A promise you know he can’t really keep, but deep down you know he would fight for you like no one else has. You trust this man. 

“I was 8 when my parents were killed,” you start a while later, voice so low Dean almost misses it. “A group of men broke into our house. They took my sister and I out of our beds and into the living room where their bodies were. ‘Struggle and you end up like them’ they told us. So I didn’t. Willow was only three at the time. I’ll never forget her screaming for Mama. I had to hold her and get her quiet. I couldn’t cry or she’d cry more and I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t calm her down. They took us to a house across town.” You swipe at a tear on your cheek. Dean braces himself. He can't imagine what’s coming is going to be any better. “I did some… things to keep Willow safe. They promised if I just listened and didn’t run that they wouldn’t hurt her.” You’re near sobbing at the memory of your sister. Dean reaches over to grab your hand. You cling to it like a lifeline. 

“Whatever happened wasn’t your fault,” he states firmly. You shake your head. “Y/N, it wasn’t-“ 

“It was! If I hadn’t tried to tell that cop at the mall, Willow would still be here!” 

“Or both of you would be dead. Baby, listen to me. What happened to Willow was tragic, but you were a child. You did what you thought would be the best and that was get help from a police officer. You are not at fault for what horrible, disgusting, fucking people did to you.” You unbuckle and scoot closer to Dean. He tucks you under his arm, holding you close. 

“The cop was one of them. He took us back to them and they killed Willow. They chained me to a workbench in the garage and made me watch as they killed her. They laughed and taunted. She was five.” 

“How long were you with them?” Dean’s seething. How fucking dare they. 

“I managed to slip away a few days later. I ended up in Lafayette, bounced in and out of a couple shitty foster homes, before I decided I was sick of men using me however they wanted. I kept as low a profile as I could. Selling my plasma to the bloodsuckers made sense. I had control. It was my choice. They paid well and if I got lucky they also brought food. Some got a little handsy, others more so but I was so numb to it that it didn’t matter anymore. I secretly kept hoping one of ‘em would go too far with the amount of blood they took.” Dean sucks in a breath. You pick at your nails, avoiding his gaze. 

“I say this with all the love in the world: Baby, we are finding you a therapist. I just found you. I’m not losing you.”

“Okay,” you agree easily. You’re reeling from his use of the word love. Maybe things will be okay.

        Pulling up to the bunker garage, Dean smiles. It feels good to be home and to be bringing you home. He watches you sleep with your head against the glass. Somewhere around Wichita you had knocked out. Probably for the best, the last twenty-four or so hours had been pretty hellish. Between the near kidnapping, what he can only imagine was a PTSD episode, and your emotional walls coming down for him; you were probably more exhausted than he was, and he hadn’t slept in those twenty-four hours. 

He exits the car as quietly he can and retrieves your backpack from the back seat. Walking around to your side, he debates about how to just wake you or not, but he’d prefer to just let you rest if you can. Chuck knows you needed it. He gently opens your door, catching you before you can tumble face first to the ground. You whine a bit and shift as lifts you into his arms, but don’t wake up. Sam opens the door for him with a confused look. Oh shit, he thinks. He told you about Sammy, but forgot to tell Sammy about you. He opens his mouth to explain only for Sam to interject. 

“Did you kidnap a kid?!” 

“What?! Fuck no, I didn’t kidnap a kid!” He whisper-yells at Sam. You move around and lift your head at the noise. Blinking sleepily, you give Sam a small wave as Dean walks away before going back to sleep. He calls over shoulder, “I’ll explain later. Let me just get her settled.” He manages to get the door to room twenty-two open himself, dumping your bag on the desk against the wall. He does his best to pull back the comforter and gently lay you down, before tucking you in. You stay asleep as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and slips out of the room. 

Sam tosses Dean a beer as soon as walks into the library. “Explain.” Dean rolls his eyes, opens the beer, and takes a drink. He falls into the chair across from his brother and stretches out. 

“Benny called and said he’d found a kid in an alley with puncture wounds in her neck. He’d had a very concerning conversation with her before she passed out on him. I was close by, so I met him at his place. Convinced the kid to come home with me and get out of her shitty situation. She’s my kid. That’s the story. Any life details or whatever needs to come from her when she trusts you. She’s been through enough without her privacy being violated.” Sam just stares at his brother dumbfounded. He shouldn’t be surprised Dean was always great with kids, but him just impulsively adopting a kid was a bit of a shock. “I’m gonna call Jodi later and get her to make it all legal. For now, I’m going to fucking sleep. I haven’t slept in-,” he checks his watch and sighs. “Over twenty-four hours. Before you ask, there was a near kidnapping. I didn’t wanna try to stop after that so I let her sleep, and I drove through the night last night.” Dean chugs the remainder of the beer and tosses the empty bottle in a nearby trash can. He stands and claps Sam on the back. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Near kidnapping?! You can’t just leave it at that!” Sam calls after his brother. 

“I am!” 

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!” Dean laughs as makes his way towards his room. He’d tell Sam the full incident later, but he was just too damn tired at this point. He lands face first on his bed not bothering with his boots or clothes and promptly passes out.

        You sit up in bed with a start. Your heart racing and mind muddled with sleep and the lingering nightmares. You’re in Dean’s house. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe. You remind yourself over and over, placing your hand on your chest trying to slow your rapid breathing and preventing your heart from escaping. A figure appears in the open doorway, hesitant to enter. You vaguely remember Dean telling you he had a brother, vaguely remember briefly seeing him when Dean brought you home. “S-Sammy?” 

“Yeah, that’s me. You okay, kiddo?” He maintains his distance, not wanting to frighten you further. You must look like a wounded animal based on the expression on his face. 

“Nightmare. Where’s Dean?” You pull your knees up to your chest and set your chin on them. He frowns and looks down the hall. 

“Right around the corner. Room eleven. Do you want me to go get him?” You glance at the clock on the wall and shake your head. If he’s sleeping you don’t want to wake him. “He won’t care, kiddo. I promise.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Thanks though.” He doesn't believe you, but let’s it go. 

“If you’re sure?” You nod. “Okay, then I’m heading out for a run. Glad you’re here, kiddo. Welcome home.” He smiles at you before leaving you alone. You wait a few breaths before slipping from the bed and down the hall to room eleven. The door is cracked open and you can hear Dean snoring inside. You almost chicken out, but ultimately you crave Dean’s paternal comfort more than you want to cling to your pride. You enter the room and quietly climb into the bed. Dean’s eyes open immediately and you gasp. 

“Nightmares?” He asks, rolling over and opening his arms to you. You nod and dive into them, settling in the warmth and safety. He holds you close against his chest, reminding you quietly that you’re home and you’re safe.

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27, @samfreakingwinchester, @akshi8278​

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

This series is so good.

Are you dating my mom? Masterlist.

*Header made by @sorenmarie87*

Summary : The last thing you expected, was your college crush to show up at your front door in his best suit and ask for your mom.

Are you dating my mom?.

Consequences. (Patreon)

*coming soon*

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Fluuuuuuuuufffffff

I don’t need to see you in person to punish you.

Summary:  You get distracted when you call your girlfriend on FaceTime.  

Square Filled: Lucifer (Mixed Bingo)

Pairing(s)/Character(s): F!Lucifer/F!Reader.  Gabriel is mentioned.

Word Count: 219

Warning(s)/Rating: Teen+ |  Genderbent Lucifer.   Gabriel (in this fic) is gender fluid.  Reader talking about Lucifer being jealous.  A threat of punishment.  

A/N:  This was created for @spnmixedbingo and my aesthetic pictures were found on Pinterest.  Beta’d by my lovely wife @iflostreturntosteverogers 

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”  You bounced up and down in your seat as you waited for your girlfriend to answer your Facetime call.  "C'mon on Luci…"

Keep reading

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The series is so good. Don’t miss out!

The Winchesters : Side of the road.

Pairing :  Winchester sister!Reader x Justin (OMC) x Travis (OMC), Sam, John, Dean

Word count : 2,430

Written for : @samwinchesterbingo​

Square : Dark!Sam

Beta’d by : @iflostreturntosteverogers​

Chapter Warnings : Underage (Reader is 17 for this chapter), being used as bait, suggestive conversation and a bit of making out, Sam comes off as over protective, possessive Sam, serial killer family, choking, violence. 

Series Warnings : Incest, Non-con, Violence, Death. If you do not like these topics, this series is not for you as these topics will be coming up.

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Part 1 of ‘The Winchesters’. 

The sun is going down and the air is starting to hold a chill. The hood of the car was up, and you were leaning over the engine, in short shorts and a thin tank top that did nothing to warm you from the chill in the air. And that was the point. Ripped denim brushing your thighs and perked nipples. An outfit chosen for a purpose.

You could hear it in the distance getting closer and you bit your bottom lip. You reached in, checking this and that, as if you had any inkling of the working of an engine. The movement had your ass on display, swaying it with this movement or that as the headlights of an oncoming car drew closer.

It shot past, and then it slammed to a stop, reversed a bit and pulled over onto the shoulder behind you. You pretended you didn’t notice the sound of a door opening. “Need help?”

You smirked to yourself for a split second before turning a pout on the man making his way closer. “Oh thank god, I didn’t think anyone else was driving this old road but me. I hope you know cars, because I’m so useless when it comes to this. I don’t know what happened.” 

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