#he wanted to kill pep so bad

[rambler-in-limbo]

When Fake Peppino got defeated infront of that giant crowd, did some clones think they might've had a chance on taking him on after seeing him get his ass kicked by Peppino?

Only for a moment.

[boxwinebaddie]

It’s totally understandable uncle Nina we appreciate you and are here for you<333

My question for pep Kyle, what was his perspective and view when he fought Stan? We know he has a huge soft spot for him and he would never do anything to purposely hurt him. Also if he ever found out about Stan’s gift (origami) what would be his reaction?

Take your time, don’t rush to answer

HYH💗💗

omgggg, please don't make me cry!!! you are so sweet! really, like, all of you have been so sweet to me about my update which means a lot to me because you all mean a lot to me <3 and i really hate letting you all down, but in an airplaine when the cabin pressure is low, they tell you to put the oxygen mask over yourself and then help others. so this is me, putting my oxygen mask on, then hopefully assisting you.

which! speaking of! thank you kindly for your question! i do have an answer and what an Answer it is, darling! xx

so, i know they were a hot mess, but the reason i even wrote/wanted to include the original chapters 11/12 of peppermint were because we only got to see stan's vers. of the days leading up to operation style.

and obviously, he was toiling away in acts of service/gift giving biboy hell making kyle 1005 origami paper cranes, fueled by fantastic visions of mean green eyed angel boys & true loves cherry nyquil kiss.

...but kyle didn't know that.

all that kyle knew was that his super best friend, the boy he's been in love with his entire life and his favorite person on planet earth just...stopped talking to him. no explanation. stan shut his phone off to focus on kyle and by accident, completely shut kyle out instead.

so kp's perspective of the fight or the kyle trial/denial, was that stan was acting...really weird. and i mean...Really, Reeeeallly, Weird.

because if we can recall, during the kyle trials, stan was flirting with kyle relentlessly, trying to get him to blush, touching his arms, standing way too close to him & overall just being a fucking Menace.

this, ofc, was strange to kyle, but he was trying not to overthink it because when he overanalyzes every little thing stan does and tries to use those things to prove the unprovable theory -- that stan's secretly in love with him -- he just gets really depressed & miserable.

so, that happening was weird enough...

...but then it stopped.

from kyle's perspective, stan went from being around him 25/8, every waking moment, texting him 34634983 times a day, one million emojis, breathing down his neck, carrying his books, bothering him, batting eyelashes at him...to going completely ghost.

stan who would make dumb excuses to get kyle to keep talking to him was making dumb excuses to Not keep talking to him. and that was when they were talking. because stan stopped talking to him after that. he said he had food poisoning and went dark.

and that...put the fear of god into kyle.

so while stan was pretending to be sick w/ food poisoning to avoid telling kyle he was actually lovesick/throwing up abt kyle, kyle was WORRIED SICK about stan, in a constant state of panic because stan just stopped texting him, stopped responding, stopped being his sbf.

and i had a lot of people be like 'okay, but nina if kyle knew that stan was having an episode, why was he still mad at stan' like??

because he'd had ENOUGH you guys!!!! kyle spent his Whole Life loving stan, taking care of stan, bending over backwards for him, dropping everything for him, forgiving him for everything and enough was enough, you know? he just...Broke. it was the final straw for him.

and when i tell you that through every single stan spin cycle, he has texted kyle good morning and good night, every single day since seventh grade, you guys. they talk for hours, they are attached at the hip, they are litrlly co-dependent super boy best friends in hellschool. like what kyle as saying is that stan...has never shut him out before. not like that. even during a depressive episode, stan will text kyle a sad face or 'hi :/' or something like...he has never...for multiple days just not texted kyle or spoken to him. At All.

and to his knowledge, stan suddenly wanted nothing to do with him, and here was tolkien, being super kind to him, doting on him, fucking worshiping him, actually asking him out on a date

( also i wrote this weird section [ before i stopped and scrapped it ] that was going to go into old 11 if i had space...originally i was going to write in that whole part i summarized in the bebe chap where kp was at tolkiens house filmin the tiktok...sum boy drama in there. )

and kyle was still!!! thinking about stan!!! like tolkien black was literally kissing him on the lips and kyle smelled pepper fucking mint and swore in his emo-boy aroused BRAIN that stan was there and lke could not even enjoy that moment -- for the second time. like tolkien kissed kyle twice and he was thinking about stan!!! BOTH TIMES

and that was frustrating to him, you know? like he feels pathetic about it because here he is, like every other day of his life, chasing after his best friend, being in love with him, giving stan a million chances and just watching stan run past him in the hallways, like desperate to get away from him??? like that is seriously painful. kyle never told stan he was in love with him because he was scared it would ruin their friendship, but now it was like...his super best friend in the whole world...didn't want to be friends with him anymore???

and wouldn't tell him why.

AND IN KYLES PERSPECTIVE, IT WAS THEIR 12TH SUPER BEST FRIENDAVERSEY WHICH EVEN W A PEP!STAN LEVEL OF ADHD HE HAS NEVER ONCE FORGOTTEN...AND STAN FORGOT!!!!

like when i tell you that kyle was DEVASTATED. like kyle fighting with stan in the hall...it wasn't out of anger, like he was so miserable. it was because he was desperate to know what the hell was going on. it was from a place of pure fucking hurt that he was yelling at stan. also stan LIED TO HIM? stan has never ever once lied to him!!!! like stan had to find out from other people that he was not sick, when kyle spent DAYS worried about him like...HE WAS HEARTBROKEN!!!!

edit: also...i had kyle shove stan. i'm taking it out. i put it in there for drama but i literally don't think kyle would lay a finger on stan. so i'm nixing that its no longer canon.

BUT ANYWAYS!

so, yeah. kyle was hard on stan even during an episode, but he had to put his foot down and i think that your best friend seemingly ignoring you for several weeks, lying to you and not speaking to you once on your 12th sbfaversey and actively avoiding you??? is a pretty good reason to publicly super worst break up tbh.

the worst part too is that if stan had said...anything. quite literally anything in response that would have explained anything, kyle would have folded like all those little paper cranes. but he didn't, so kyle was just like i cannot keep living like this??? like it is very exhausting and embarrassing to love someone who is running away from you.

after the friendship bracelet incident, he did sit in his room, crying loudly to taylor swift in stans stupid cure sweatshirt. he was SAD. like kyle was wallowing, he wanted to run back so BAD, but like if he runs back, its a vicious cycle like: he put the oxygen mask over himself. :(

okay, as far as the last part of the ask goes with the cranes, i have another ask about that and it's later on so i'll have to go into that more later...but what i can tell you is that...

if we can recall, stan ran crying out of that school, took the wish jar out of his backpack and CHUCKED IT into the trash but...

no body, no crime.

we didn't hear it smash, now did we, girls, gays and theys?

because it did not smash.

and better yet? it was secretly fished out of the trash...

by kenny. <3

[maraczeks]

newsroom rw thread pt 9

[ickadori]

++ 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐄/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] uraume doesn’t like you, but sukuna has taken an interest in you, and there isn’t a thing in this world that they wouldn’t tolerate for lot sukuna, even if it is you.

[cws] fem reader. uraume hates you! they want to cook you, and mention it quite a lot -> mentions of cannibalism, but no one is actually eaten…yet. true form sukuna for the win. uraume very much has the hots for sukuna. team effort oral -> sukuna receiving. fingering -> reader receiving. threesome.

[an] inspired by this -> link. sosososososos happy this was planted in my head m going insane actually.

Uraume hates you, indubitably.

You were a human, a sturdy one to be able to withstand Sukuna’s affection, but a human nonetheless. While their views on humans weren’t as grandiose as the likes of Geto, they still deemed them as beneath them, and anyone beneath Uraume had no business being in the presence of Sukuna, and yet you had been kept around.

They hadn’t known what Sukuna wanted with you at first — they had originally intended to cook you into a meal fitting for their king. You had plenty meat on you, and the king was often… hoggish when it came to his appetite, so you would have done a good job in being a filling meal, the only things humans were good for in Uraume’s eyes.

Sukuna had nearly beheaded them the moment a knife had been pointed in your direction. For whatever reason, you were special. It baffled them, entirely, completely, it still does. They had spent so much time watching you, observing all the things you did; the way you walked, the way your eyes nervously flitted about, never venturing past someone’s collar bones, the way you brushed your hair, the way fed yourself, how your fingers held the fork and knife (quite clumsily, may they add. You were clearly due for a lesson in etiquette.), how you tried and failed to properly tie your kimono, forcing them to fix it for you lest you both be on the receiving end of Sukuna’s wrath. Appearance is everything, didn’t you know that?

Speaking of appearances… you were pleasant enough to look at, but Sukuna had an endless sea of pleasant faces to pick from, ones that came with a bit of training, so what had drawn him to you specifically?

They couldn’t put their finger on it, and they guessed that it ultimately didn’t matter. You made their master happy, and they could tolerate you until you inevitably landed in his bad graces, and then they’d serve you up to him on a silver platter.

On the day that Sukuna had angrily called for them, they had thought you had finally done it, and had quickly come to his call with a pep in their step and a glint in their eye.

Uraume didn’t find extreme amounts of pleasure in killing others, it was simply a part of their job, but they can’t deny that the thought of being rid of you elicited a response similar to ones they got whenever Sukuna bestowed his praise unto them, something that hadn’t happened since you had wormed your way into their kingdom.

Yes, as humans say, Uraume was jealous. They were envious of the attention Sukuna gave you—and you were so greedy. You took it all and held onto it with an iron fist, scared out of your wits that he’d grow bored of you if you loosened your grip even the slightest bit, because then you’d be up for the pickings.

When Uraume finally made it to Sukuna’s quarters, the sight they were greeted with wasn’t a foreign one. He was sat on the bed, kimono pooled around him, while you kneeled between his legs, your own clothing nowhere in sight. His cocks were hard and twitching, fat dollops of pre-cum sliding down the shafts, coupled with the remnants of your saliva, or perhaps your slick.

So you had failed to please him, as many often did. One cock of that size was too much for most to handle, let alone two, and you were human, after all.

“Lord Sukuna.” Uraume drops into a deep bow, their head touching the cool floor and staying until they’re given permission to stand. “How can I assist you?” Would Sukuna have them dice you up and turn you into a nice stew? Or perhaps he’d like something a little more raw… Human meat and muscle tended to be tough and dry, if not properly prepared, but Uraume had done this for centuries, and was kept around for a reason.

They’d make you into a meal worthy of being consumed by—

“Train her on how to take me.”

Pardon?

“You.. don’t wish for me to dispose of her?” That fiery flame flickers in his eyes, and Uraume rushes out a thousand apologies, hand placed over their heart as they lower their gaze. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my Lord. I shall do as you ask.”

This task has never before been requested of them, and they find themself at a momentary loss as they lower themself to kneel beside you, eyes scrutinizing you while you avoid their gaze. They quickly gain their bearings.

“Do I have permission to touch her, my Lord?”

“You do.”

“Open your mouth.” You look to Sukuna for confirmation, and Uraume bristles. As if you’re so high above them that you don’t immediately do as they say, tuh. With a nod from Sukuna, you’re hesitantly opening your mouth, and they insert two fingers, the pads of them pressing down on your tongue. They ignore the way that you gag and tears spring to your eyes, your clenched fists shaking on your bare thighs.

They push their fingers in deeper, making you violently gag as your throat constricts and you quickly jerk your head back. “I see what the problem is.” Their fingers are slick with your saliva, and they just barely resist the urge to wipe it clean on their clothing, figuring that Sukuna would take it as an insult. “You’re not relaxing your throat and jaw when you take him - allow me to demonstrate.”

Uraume turns to Sukuna, a flutter in their stomach as they direct a question his way. “Permission to pleasure you, my Lord?”

“Do as you please.”

They fall into habit easily enough - hands bracing against the thick meat of his thighs, tongue swiping out to wet their lips before moving to trail up the underside of his cock before placing a wet, gentle kiss on the head, quickly giving the other the same treatment. His scent is heady, strong, and Uraume breathes him in deep before their lips are wrapping around the dark, uncut tip, jaw and throat relaxing as they take him all the way in, nose pushed into a set of wiry curls.

Uraume cuts their eyes at you, lips stretched wide around the cock in their mouth, and find that you’re watching with apt interest, thighs not so subtly rubbing together as rock back onto your heel that’s positioned underneath you.

Greedy — putting your own pleasure before Sukuna’s. It’s unacceptable, and they rectify it with a swift snatch of your hair. You’re pushed towards his neglected cock, and you’re given a moment to prepare before it’s pushed into your mouth, Uraume’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to take him all in.

You choke and gag, the action bringing forth a deep, guttural groan from Sukuna, and Uraume watches as he brings a hand down to grip your hair at the roots, his other holding the side of your face. Uraume’s nails bite into your skin before they can stop it, and you cry out as best you can, hands pushing at Sukuna’s stomach as your tears flow freely.

You’re flailing now, and Uraume has half a mind to let you fail again, not caring if they’re on the chopping block as well, but Sukuna comes before everyone else, first and foremost.

They pull their mouth off of his cock with a wet sound, strings of saliva and pre-cum stretching from their lips to the dribbling tip, and quickly lick it away as they place their hand around your throat, right where they can see the bulge formed. “You have to calm down.” Their thumb gently rubs against your skin, voice low and as soothing as it can get as their free hand smooths down the expanse of your back and over the curve of your ass. “Breathe through your nose - yes, just like that.”

Their fingers find your cunt, wet and plump, and two easily slip inside, walls eagerly sucking them in. “Move your tongue against him, he likes it.” You make a noise of complaint, and they tighten the hand around your throat. “You now live to please him, so please him. Move your tongue or I’ll—” A violent shiver wracks their body as Sukuna’s energy spikes, and Uraume softens their voice again, fingers twisting and rubbing as they search for that special spot that always renders the most skittish, stiff women into malleable, pliant dolls.

You finally do as they say, judging by Sukuna’s reaction, and Uraume keeps up their ministrations on your cunt, fingers plunging in and out, resulting in a lewd squelch, the sound barely audible over the way you occasionally gag and moan. Their gaze trails over to Sukuna’s neglected cock, and deciding that you’re doing a decent enough job now, they move to take him back into their mouth, fingers still moving inside you.

With your previous resistance gone, Sukuna takes it upon himself to move you back and forth on his cock, veins on the back of his hand bulging as he ruts into your mouth. Uraume does well enough on their own to be exempt from the treatment, head bobbing and hand fondling at heavy, full sacs as they suck, tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft, even occasionally mushing against his tip and pushing into the slit there.

Knowing him as well as they do, Uraume knows that Sukuna will come soon, and they suck in earnest, messily slurping and swallowing as his thighs tense under their touch. You suddenly tighten around their fingers, and a glance to the side shows your lashes fluttering, your jaw slack as Sukuna pulls out of your mouth, only to push right back in and bury himself to the hilt. Uraume does the same, welcoming the spurts of cum that trail down their throat as they eagerly swallow.

Your name is on Sukuna’s tongue as he pulls out of your mouth, and Uraume watches in distaste as you cough and splutter, wasting the cum that he had so graciously shared with you, and they find themselves leaning forward before they can help themself.

Their lips collide with yours, tongue licking into your mouth as they collect the remnants of cum inside, and they ignore the way you arch into them and grab ahold of their haori, fully focused on getting every drop they can. With a gentle suck of your tongue they finally pull away, and they blink at the way you follow them, eyes lidded and hazy as you try to go for another kiss.

They let you, not wanting to incur Sukuna’s anger for denying you, and you messily kiss them, although it’s more of a mash of lips and teeth as you moan against them and pant into their mouth.

Sukuna laughs, and a warmth spreads throughout Uraume when one of four hands comes to rest atop their head. “It seems as though you’ve gained her affection - you should be honored.” Hardly.

Sukuna hauls you up into his lap, and Uraume thinks their presence is no longer needed and begins to stand, only for the hand on their head to tangle in their hair and force them to their feet. “You’re not done yet.”

Confusion swims in their eyes, but it’s quickly sated when they see that Sukuna is ready to go again, one of his cocks nestled between your folds as you pathetically hump against it, hands grasping at his shoulders as you tip your head back, moans and cries bouncing off the walls. “As you can see, she’s quite greedy.” His hand roughly gropes at your ass, and he lifts you with little effort before placing you back down on his cock. He only gets the tip in before you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders, head fruitlessly shaking back and forth as you babble out nonsensical words. “And inexperienced. I trust that you can fix this.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

[cypherthesuccubus]

I’m not done with you yet….darling~

Alastor x Reader -Part 1- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, blood kink, bondage, slight S&M, Dom/Sub, rough rutting, mate marking, leash play/ownership, slight degradation, praise kink, body worship, ass worship, cock worship, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: Reader will receive aftercare

I hope you guys like this!! I’m not the best writer, but I wanted to write something for y’all. Enjoy Part 1~😈 @starlightdreaming and everyone who voted 🥰

The sound of smooth jazz was playing softly through the dimly lit room. The fire place and a simple floor lamp being the only light source to help see through the darkness. Shadows danced around the room almost as if they are anxious to do more than outline the elaborate decor. In the corner of the room was a lush scene of a forest with tall trees and thick grass coating that part of the hard wood floor. In the middle of the forest scene sit an elegant little table and chair; resembling something you would see at a luxurious cafe. A ominous figure; sitting cross legged in that chair; humming the tune that was playing while tapping his foot that touch the grass floor. Setting his mug down on the table; flipping through the news paper. Alastor hums at the current topics being discussed; finding them amusing that such things would even make it into the papers. Proper entertainment was a thing of the past it seems. He wished he could drum up some chaos like old times, but he knew he couldn’t on account of Charlie and the others. Where’s Mimzy when you needed her to bring the fun around? Oh well~ there’s only so much he can do when he has other priorities to attend to. Soon enough he’ll be able to find some proper entertainment eventually, but of course right now, Charlie is currently hosting a group activity downstairs to welcome a new guest to the hotel. Better not disappoint and make a bad impression on the new arrival. Putting the paper down while fixing his bow tie; Alastor stands and makes his way towards the bedroom door; putting alittle pep in his step while folding his hands behind his back; holding his staff while putting on his signature awarding winning smile like always.

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

“A shot at redemption didn’t sound so bad. Maybe I should give it a chance before I make any rash decisions.” I thought as I approach the newly refurbished Hazbin Hotel. Funny name for a hotel, but I guess it fits. I didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door as it was yanked wide open. There stood in the doorway was Ms. Sunshine herself; Princess Charlie. She definitely was much taller in person that’s for sure. Her smile was definitely the brightest thing to ever grace hell with its radiance. Hard to believe someone as bubbly and sweet like this was born here in hell. “HEY THERE!!! WELCOME TO THE HAZBIN HOTEL!!!! I’m Charlie and I’m here to give personally give you a tour of this place!!!” She basically announced with so much excitement. I’ve never thought in a million years that there would be a chance to be redeemed after death. I mean if the angels could be killed, maybe redemption was possible too. Charlie takes me by the hand and leads me into the lobby where a little group demons were already gathered; sitting on the couches or on the floor. Almost like they’re having some sort of circle time. Charlie then leads me to the group and sits me down; facing the coffee table that’s sitting in the middle of the circle. “But before the tour, we had a planned group activity today where we all introduce ourselves. Since you’re right on time, did you want to go first new friend?” I shook my head “No I can go last…I don’t mind waiting to know everyone else first.” She gave me a reassuring smile and pats me on the back “Ok no problem!, you take all the time you need to prepare.” I sighed in relief. I’m not that great with introductions and being a little on the shy side was not easy either. I want to make friends, but sometimes I could never find the words to say. So often I tend to clam up if I’m too anxious. The intros started off with Charlie of course as she talked about her interests and what made her the most happy.

Then it went down the line with Vaggie; Charlie’s girlfriend; making her intro. Then it was Angel Dust after her; he definitely made me laugh with his sex jokes and constant flirting with this guy Husky? Turned out it was actually Husker; Husky was one of the many names Angel calls him to annoy the fuck out of him really. Then it was this cute little thing called Niffty. She reminded me of a doll from how tiny she was; just simply adorable. Then it was the emo punk like girl with a high ponytail; she called herself Cherri. I think I like her too just as much as Angel Dust. It seemed like they were already besties from how they interacted with each other. I hope they can consider me as a bestie too cause honestly they seem like they know how to have fun. It would probably help tremendously with this shyness of mine to get to know people better. Just then I felt a shift in my hears as if like on an airplane with the shift of pressure. Static like feelings was going up and down my body as if being shocked gently. In the corner of my eye I see this shadow rise from the ground to form a figure that looked to have deer like ears and two tiny antlers on top of the head along with a microphone like staff being held behind this figures back. The shadows finally disappeared to present the one and only Radio demon himself.

Dressed in his red pinstriped coat with black and red cuffed slacks to match his recently shined shoes. His black bow tie sat perfectly at the neck; making him look like the distinguished gentleman he made himself to be. His wide smile; unfaltering while it slightly glowed along with his ruby red eyes from him standing in the dimmer part of the lobby. Giving him an almost eerie appearance like a predator looking for its next meal. He approaches more into the light of the lobby now getting a better view of him in detail “Hello everyone! I do apologize for being a little late. I had some urgent errands to take care of, but now I’m finally here like I promised.” Charlie looks up at him and clasps her hands together “Oh perfect! We’re just going through the introductions now. Everyone pretty much just went through theirs except you and our new friend here.” She gestures to me with a cheery grin. That’s when his eyes finally locked on me. I looked at him back and instantly regret it. Once I locked eyes with him it seemed like his smile grew wider as his eyes darted down then back up. I looked down into my lap to hide my now flushed face. I swallowed hard from anxiety I felt at that moment. If he was the predator then he is definitely making me feel like the prey right now. It didn’t help he was also handsome to boot; making me all the more nervous. “Oh wonderful! Well the name’s Alastor my dear! A pleasure to be meeting you!” I look back up to him as to not be rude of course. When will I ever learn? He leans down in a bow staring straight into my soul with half lidded eyes; grin growing wider as he spoke in a lower almost sultry voice

“Quite the pleasure~”

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

How curious? As soon as spoke my usual greeting, this new guest instantly turned red and buried her face into her hoodie. I could have sworn I also heard a faint high pitched whimper as well. Interesting~ Charlie then speaks up “Ok Alastor!, now tell our new guest what you like to do for fun, and what makes you the happiest!” The annoying one, Vaggatha, turned to her “Charlie I don’t he’s gonna admit anything like that to us.” For someone who is as irritating as her she’s actually right for once. “Indeed so!” I look towards the new guest again; the feeling curiosity took over again, but this time I wanted to push it just a little bit….further. “Cause that is for and only me to know….buuuut~” I lean down once again as she just peaked her head out again “if curiosity gets the better of you…then who am I to stop you if you have “a little death” wish~” WHAT. DID. I. JUST. SAY?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?! I WOULD NEVER SAY THIS!!!!! NOT TO ANYONE!!!! As soon as I said it, she let out another whimper this time; only it was a bit louder that everyone could hear it this time. She buried herself deeper into her hoodie realizing what she did. Looks like I’m not the only one embarrassing themselves at least. But seriously?!?! “a little death?!?!” I’ve never made innuendos like that?!?! I even shocked Angel for heaven’s sake?!?! Charlie then breaks the silence giggling nervously “Ahaha…ok how about this. New friend how about you just your name for now and we can go on that tour I promised earlier.”

She peeked one more time; nodding as she spoke with a voice almost like silk. “M-my name is (Y/N)….it’s nice to meet you all.” Charlie smiles at her “I love that name! It’s very pretty! It really suits you.” She approaches her and helps her off the floor “Ok everyone thank you for being apart of today’s activity today! We’ll see you all at dinner.” Everyone disarrayed from the circle and headed their own ways as I made quick haste into the shadows; transporting back into to my quarters. I start to pace the floor, running my fingers through my hair; trying to figure out why I made such a display in front of everyone no less. This was not like me at all, and I don’t understand why; which pisses me off the most!!!! Is it because I’m about to go into season?!?!? No it couldn’t be. I’ve always known how to maintain it really well. I’ve been around for a long time, and my seasons have never been an issue for me to control. Even when completely surrounded; still proved no issue. What is going on?!?! I take a deep breath and adjust my bow tie; dusting off my coat. I just need to keep my distance for a couple of weeks and maybe this will blow over when my season ends. Even if it isn’t, I’m still not taking any chances. No one will know about this…..not even her. I am the Radio Demon, feared by all and it should stay that way.

[cal-flakes]

please write more dealer!rafe idc what it is about i love that dynamic it was so cute !!!

you’re so real for this. i am LIVING for dealer!rafe right now. eeeeeeek

╰┈➤ saved by dealer!rafe

warnings: drugs, violence, weapons, death. possible tw; implied sa (no description as it doesn’t actually happen)

summary: doing a favour for dealer!rafe takes a dark turn.

“wait, can you run me through it again? please? just one more time?” sighing, rafe cupped her face. “princess, you really need to remember this for me, okay?” y/n nodded, the innocent look in her eyes almost making rafe feel bad for asking her.

“barry here..” rafe pointed “is gonna take you with him to a deal, all you gotta do is sit and be extra pretty, okay?” he explained, his patronising tone going straight over her head.

y/n thought hard about what he said, nodding her head as he spoke. “okay!” she beamed.

“alriiiight, come on little girl, gotta be there on time..” barry sang from the corner of the room, sighing as he stood from the couch.

“yes sir!” she squealed, not really understanding the danger of what she’s about to do.

rafe squeezed her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a few kisses to his cheek.

loosening his grip, he peered over her shoulder to adjust her skirt, disgruntled by the short length.

she pulled away and followed barry to the door, a pep in her step.

“man i swear, if you let anything happen to her i’ll fucking kill you” rafe stated, pointing a threatening finger at his friend.

“chill out man, i’ll keep your little princess safe” barry mocked him, holding his hands up.

y/n situated herself in the passenger side, wincing slightly as her thighs stuck to the leather. the drive to the cut was comfortably quiet while y/n wracked her brain for what rafe wanted her to do.

barry glanced at her through his peripheral, sniggering to himself as she looked lost in thought.

“you forgotten already huh?” he smirked, mocking her. bowing her head, she nodded to the ground, picking up on his tone.

“all you gotta do, is sit there. okay? you sit there and don’t say a word, you’re just here to sweeten the deal. if they say anything to you, just be nice..” barry stated, gesticulating as he spoke.

“okay, just sit there..” y/n muttered to herself as they closed in on the porch.

the house, or shack, wasn’t anything y/n was used to. she wasn’t particularly stuck up, she had just never spent much time on the south side of the island, and that was set in stone once she got with rafe.

barry knocked a couple times, the look on his face was almost nervous, a small frown settled on his lips.

a disheveled looking man opened the door, ushering them in. y/n followed closely behind barry, avoiding the man’s prying eyes. the living room was a mess, she struggled to step over the countless empty bottles littered around.

“so, you got my money bare?” the strange man rasped, standing in the doorway sheepishly.

“yeah man, i got your money, but i wanna see the goods first..” turning his head, the man nodded to someone in the hallway.

narrowed eyes closed in on the pair as eerie footsteps sounded around the room. another man, just as strange looking, appeared in the room, duffel bag in hand.

the bag was placed on the table roughly, the silence in the room becoming awkward immediately. y/n picked at her nails, away in her own little world.

the men swapped bags, barry counted the pile of little packets while the other two counted the money. they whispered amongst eachother, their words muffled by the rustle of baggies

suddenly, barry perked his head up, his eyes meeting the knife that had been pointed at y/n. her breath hitched as she clocked it, failing to back up any further against the couch.

“hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” barry snapped, standing up without hesitation.

“you’re missing two-thousand dollars barry..” he sighed, throwing his head into his hands, mentally cursing himself for not double checking rafe’s bag.

“you wanna go get us our money barry, or this one’s not getting out of here alive..” the man motioned towards y/n with the blade.

“nah man, leave her out of this” he uttered, holding a shaky hand up.

“call your buddy, get us our money” the other guy demanded, reaching forward to pull y/n out of her seat.

she let out an ear piercing scream as she was dragged out of the room. barry groaned as her shrieks were muffled by a closed door, having been taken into the bathroom.

“balls in your court bare, get cameron down here with our money, and neither of you get hurt”

barry dialled furiously, “c’mon man, answer the fucking phone” he murmured into the phone.

“rafe! you gotta get down here, right now man” he whispered, “they’re keeping her hostage man, they know about the missing money”

“fuck!” rafe yelled.

“please! let me out!” a high pitched plea erupted from the bathroom. “shut the fuck up bitch!” their voices could be heard through the phone, igniting a burning feeling in rafe’s chest.

barry leapt from the couch, lunging at the man in the room, taking him down with a thud. heavy fists we’re thrown as the two men scuffled around the room, destroying furniture in their wake.

the screams and shouts went on for a while as barry struggled against the man.

the front door burst open as a shaking rafe stood in the door way, chest heaving. “barry! help me! please!” y/n yelped again.

without hesitation, rafe kicked the door open with a crazed look in his eyes. the man had y/n pinned to the wall, trailing a knife along her neck.

from what he could see, she hadn’t been physically injured, but the thought alone was enough for rafe to snap.

he lunged forward, dragging the man to the floor, knocking the knife out of his hand. y/n wailed as they struggled on the floor.

“gun! y/n grab the fucking gun!” rafe bellowed, startling her. nodding through the tears, she pulled the gun out of his waistband.

he stuck a hand out hastily, reaching for the gun in her shaky hands. quickly cocking it, he didn’t give the man a chance before putting a quick bullet in his head.

y/n’s hand covered her mouth as she wept, in a heap on the floor. breathlessly, rafe hurried to her side, scooping her onto his lap.

“i’m gonna get you out of here princess, c’mon angel..” he breathed, lifting her into his arms.

“you good bare?” he shouted, stopping for a response. a sweaty barry appeared in the door way, unconscious man left behind. “all good here bro, let’s fucking go!”

rafe placed y/n in the car carefully, wiping her tears. “it’s okay princess, i’ve got you now, it’s okay..” he cooed, meeting her glassy eyes as he spoke.

arriving back home, he carried her through the house, placing her on the couch. “stay still for a second angel, im gonna clean you up” he said soothingly, rubbing his forehead as the guilt set in.

“rafe..” she let out a shaky whimper. “yeah?” he stopped in his tracks. “please don’t, sit with me..” she cried.

“whatever you need baby, i’m here now, you’re safe with me” he whispered, pulling her into his side.

[luveline]

Hi, I have an eddie, roan, reader idea! Maybe roan has a school play or dance recital and she's got a solo or something and she really nervous so que a sweet and sappy pep talk from eddie or reader. Then eddie and reader and sitting watching her like two smiley, proud goofs bc roan is killing it (obviously) 😊😂

thank you for your request ♡ you and dad!eddie comfort his daughter roan when she panics about her upcoming solo dance. fem!reader, 1.2k

Eddie crouches down by the car. He doesn't care that it's raining, doesn't care that he's gonna have wet knees for the two hours he spends in the audience. He doesn't even care that you're being rained on next to him as you hold the umbrella over his head, because Roan is crying. 

Not the roaring sobs of a tantrum nor the panicked braying of an owie. She's crying slow, sluggish tears, and she's declared a heart-breaking statement. "I don't think I can do it," she sobs, covering her face with her hands. Her nails are painted silver and pink. The bracelets around her wrists slip down to her elbows, sparkly bangles you'd insisted she needed. It's a very glittery display of unhappiness.

"Sweetheart, what? Are you kidding? If anybody can do it, it's you." 

She'd been a little bit quiet on the ride over, but she smiled when you bragged preemptively about how many photos you were going to take of her performance, and laughed when Eddie said, "So don't mess up!" 

Not his best joke, he realises now. 

"I don't want to mess up the dance," she says through sobs. 

Eddie puts his hand behind her and pulls her toward him gently. She's reluctant at first, though she melts as he pats a short rhythm into her back. "You won't mess up the dance," he says, nudging her forehead with his nose to make her look up. "You practised with me so much, we know all the moves back to front." 

"But it's different," she says, shuddering. Her body attempts to regulate a sudden emotion. It doesn't do a very good job. 

"It's different," you say. "The lights and having the mommys and daddys looking at you. It's different. But different doesn't mean you'll mess up, right?" 

"And messing up isn't the end of the world," Eddie says. 

"Exactly!" you agree. "Nobody watching will care if you make the wrong dance move, babe. You can make mistakes." 

"You can make all of the mistakes," Eddie says. 

Roan rubs her wet cheeks into Eddie's shirt. "I don't want to look bad for you," she says. 

"What do you mean, Ro?" he asks, his voice softened to silk. He can't stroke her hair, not after the hour he'd spent making it look perfect, but he holds the back of her head in his hand and rubs a line across her cheek with his thumb. He needs her to calm down. "You don't need to worry about us. We're proud of you no matter what." 

"I'm no good," Roan says, sniffling. 

"You're no good? Why would you think that? You're so good," Eddie says.

"I'm gonna mess up," she says, holding your hand loosely through the gap in Eddie's arm. The rain wets your hair. You don't even feel it, your eyes full of patience as Roan devolves. "I'm gonna be bad. Everyone's gonna laugh at me. I can't do it, dad." 

You clear your throat. "This recital is to show off how good you are, yeah? Me and daddy already know you're amazing. We've seen you doing the perfect dance every night for two weeks!" 

"And if anyone laughs at you, I'll beat them up." 

You choke on air at Eddie's declaration, but you don't tell him to take it back. In fact, you nod solemnly. "I will make daddy beat them up. But nobody is going to laugh at you, Roan." 

"You're beautiful," Eddie says, taking her by the shoulders. "You look so pretty. You worked so hard on practising your dance, and you're gonna show everybody how awesome you are. I promise, babe. Cross my heart." 

"You think it'll be okay?" she asks unsurely. 

Eddie stands up on aching knees, looking down at her with his most encouraging, most saccharine, most confident grin. "I know so. I know you're worrying, baby, but we have to go inside now. We don't wanna be late, and Y/N's drowning." 

You stand with him, holding the umbrella steadfast over Roan's head. Your coat is shiny with rain, and your jeans are a formidable blue. Eddie'll have to rub them to warm them up when they've found their seats (oh no, what a chore). 

Roan hesitates. Eddie cups her cheek. 

"You can do this, bubby. I have never ever been so sure about something before as this." 

He's lying —he's ninety nine percent sure Roan won't mess up, and he'd been a whole percentage point more sure about one thing in particular. You're standing by his side, nodding vehemently. 

"You can do this," you reaffirm. 

In the end, Roan makes it on stage. You and Eddie campaign for a pair of great seats not quite as in the middle as you wanted, but close enough to the front for Roan to see your eyes. You hold the video camera chest level and Eddie rubs your legs until friction heats the chilled skin there, warming you toasty. He whispers a quick thank you for your generous umbrella-ing, to which you kiss his stubbly jaw and babble about protection detail. You're more excited than you were before Roan's Mother's Day dance, and that's saying something. 

Roan appears toward the right hand side. The music is loud but non abrasive, and if you and Eddie didn't already know, it would surprise you when she spins forward into centre stage halfway through the dance. He holds his breath and you squeeze his hand, camera held steady as the bodice of Roan's white dress catches the light. Her tulle skirt flares out like the petals of a daisy as she performs her solo. It's over in less than ten seconds, the other girls and boys falling forward to join her, but they're the proudest ten seconds of Eddie's life. 

He doesn't expect to feel heat behind his eyes. Alarmed, he digs a finger into his shirt and pulls the collar to his eyes to wipe at the wet corners. 

"She did it!" you whisper, shooting him a smile. "I knew she could do it!" 

Eddie beams. He doesn't even know how to explain the level of pride he's feeling. He starts with a hug that lasts a good ten minutes after the show (Roan jumping into his arms, shouting "I did it!" at the top of her lungs) surrounded by parents praising her for a job well done. They go for ice cream, and they stay out late celebrating. Eddie swears he's gonna fall asleep the second his head touches his pillow, but he has enough energy left in him to put his cheek on your shoulder and whisper, "Can you pass me the video camera? I wanna watch it back." 

"Again? She rocked it, baby. Please go to sleep." 

"I will! Just– after this one." 

[simphornies]

okay, ya’ll hear me out. a cat demon reader who has a crush on alastor (unrequited) and is jst sittin at the bar with husk trying to talk her out of it

A/N: I didn't mean for this to be this long and I didn't mean for this to fade into what it did. But here we are and now I'm gonna have to write a part 2 for this too 🤭✨

Word count: 1.1k (1,135)

Contents: unrequited love, alastor doesn't care about you 😭, vox is involved but at the end, sad drunk reader turn angry, no use of y/n or pronouns, husk being a good shoulder to lean on

Little Pet [ Alastor(unrequited) x Reader → Vox x Reader ]

The static laced voice drove you crazy. His bloodlust was something you strangely found attractive. Alastor. You were in love with the radio demon. Your infatuation for him was the main reason you’re in the hotel since you thought it’d lead to the two of you becoming close.

But it didn’t work. No matter what you did, none of your advances worked and you were too scared to go too far to the point where he distanced himself from you. You’d bring him freshly-killed deer to his room. His delight made you think he was finally starting to warm up to you but he’d just accept your gift and kick you right back out so he can dine by himself.

You groaned at the other cat demon, Husk, who gave you a whole bottle of booze. “I want him so bad, Husk.” You whined before downing half of the bottle.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Look, that fucker isn’t going to consider it.” He sighed at the sad look in your eyes, “I ain’t ever seen him do any of that romantic shit. He’s just not the one, kid.”

“Why can’t he be the one?” You frowned, alcohol dripping from the side of your mouth. You were a mess over this one-sided pining. “Him and I can rule together. We share the same passions, love watching desperate souls try just to fail, do things out of sheer boredom, and crave power! Everything, Husk! I even brought him fresh kill!”

Husk grimaced a bit at the last bit of your sentence but shook the expression off of his face, “You’re gonna have to give up on it. This whole,” He gestured to you, “front you got on right now is looking, well, pretty fuckin’ pathetic. Sorry to be harsh but it’s been, what? A year of pining now? And he hasn’t even spared you a lovin’ glance.” Husk joined you and started to drink an entire bottle of some cheap booze he had.

It was true. You’ve been running, chasing and practically begging for him to return, or even acknowledge, your affections but he would just leave you alone in the dust. You’d be lying if it didn’t hurt. You take a new bottle off of the shelf behind Husk and popped it open, the cork flying off somewhere with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Thanks for the pep talk, Husk.” You pat his back, “I’ll…try to get over it. You’re right. And thanks for the alcohol.”

He gave you a slight smile and nodded, “The bartender’s always here for you. Let me know if you need another round.”

As soon as you got to your room you slammed the door shut behind you before throwing yourself on your bed. You screamed into your pillow and kicked your legs iut of frustration. Your ears pinned down to your side as you flipped on your back. “What the fuck was I thinking?” You turned your head and caught a glimpse of your drunken, emotional self in the mirror. You laughed at your sad display. What were you thinking? Falling for an overlord like him? He’d never return your feelings. You drink out of the bottle you took earlier. “Fuckin’ lame.” You grumbled to yourself.

Maybe it was an attempt to distract yourself from your broken heart but you ended up scrolling through your phone all night long. You started off looking at the pictures you took with the staff and residents here. They made you smile but every single time you see a glitchy photo, your eyes immediately scanned for the red deer demon and your smile would dissipate into a frown. The more you see him, the more your frown would turn into a scowl. Maybe it was the alcohol but your adoration for him turned into irritation.

He could have at least given you an answer! Some kind of closure. But he just continued to be standoffish and mysterious. You didn’t need him. You couldn’t even take photos with him and you love taking photos. Who needs him anyways? Not you. Not anymore, at least. You got mad looking through your gallery and went on social media.

You scrolled through boring posts until your attention was caught in a VoxTek ad. You squint. Vox hates him and you never really understood why at first, but now you do. That pompous, red, deer-headed, old-timey overlord thinks he’s too good for others. You were done pining for him. Your anger sobered you up and erased your affections for the radio demon. You did so much for him! Followed his bidding and his commands with nothing in return, not even a little bit of praise. You’ve killed for him with no hesitation and he didn’t even bother to look! You were done throwing yourself at someone who won’t appreciate your effort.

You look around your room. You didn’t own a lot of things, only a couple drawers of clothes and maybe some little trinkets you got from Charlie littered your table. You look back down at your phone, staring at the photo of VoxTek’s CEO, Vox.

If there was anyone that could understand this newfound hatred, it would be him. If Alastor can’t recognize you for your power now, then you’re just going to have to make him see you. Make him regret ignoring your obvious affections for him and leaving you hanging with no closure.

You pack your things and leave in the night. You left a note for everyone, except Alastor, apologizing for the sudden disappearance and stating you weren’t necessarily ready for redemption yet. Before you headed out, you left a trinket for Husk as a thanks for constantly listening to your ramblings and helping you out of this hole you dug yourself.

You started to make your way to the Vee tower and as you walked with your backpack, you looked around for a VoxTek drone. As soon as you spot one hovering over the rooftops, you jump on anything that could help you get close to it. As soon as you made it up on the roof you stared right into the lens, determination on your face. You lightly tapped on it with your claw.

“Vox? I know you can hear me. I know you’ve seen me around the radio demon. But I’m fucking done with that prick. I’m leaving the hotel and going straight to your tower. I need you and your power. With me by your side, I promise you that you’ll definitely get under that old fuck’s skin.” You grin at the camera and walk away, jumping rooftop to rooftop as you head towards the tower.

Vox heard and saw you. A sinister grin crept up on his face as he leaned back on his chair. He chuckled with amusement at your resolve, his left eye spiraling. “Interesting.”

Taglist: @froggybich @baizzhu @dickmastersworld @matrixbearer2024

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Dead in the Water | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean and the reader are dickish to each other

Word Count: 9338

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sitting inside of a diner across from Dean, munching on the last of your fries as he circled names in an obituary. Sam had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you and Dean refused to speak to each other unless it was to start a petty fight. 

The pretty blonde waitress returned, leaning over the table and showing off her boobs. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked Dean. 

You looked over at him as he grinned around the pen he was chewing on.

You suppressed an eye roll, addressing Wendy. “Just the check, please.”

“Okay,” she smiled at you, glancing over at Dean once more. The waitress strutted away, and Dean dropped his head down before looking over at you. 

“You know, (Y/N), we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He pointed at the waitress as she walked into the kitchen, “That's fun.”

“You can have fun when we find your dad.” 

Dean went to say something back to you, but Sam sat down and effectively cut the conversation short.

“Hey,” he said. “What’d I miss?”

“Just your brother trying to pick up our waitress,” you stated, glaring pointedly at Dean. 

“Can it, (Y/N).” He put the newspaper in front of Sam. “Take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin.” He pointed to the obituary he had circled in the paper. “Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure, or whatever,” the older of the two shrugged.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”

Dean’s expression hardened. He squared his shoulders and leaned forward on his forearms on the table. “Something you want to say to me?”

You took a sip of your drink, eyes widening as you looked down and to the side of you, feeling pretty awkward. 

“The trail for Dad,” Sam started, “It's getting colder every day.”

Dean sighed. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don't know. Something. Anything.”

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude.” Dean’s tone was harsh as he spoke. “You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”

Dean cut his younger brother off. “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he did so. 

The waitress walked past again, effectively distracting Dean from his anger toward Sam. His gaze was focused right on her ass.

You snapped your fingers a mere inch in front of his face.

He jerked back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What was that for?!”

“For focusing on getting your dick wet instead of the task at hand,” you replied. 

Dean went to shoot something back at you, but Sam was quick to jump in. “Alright—” he directed his next question at Dean, “—Lake Manitoc, how far?”

***

You had been driving for what felt like forever. Lake Manitoc was, in fact, pretty far from the diner you had stopped at. In between playfully bickering with Sam about the cultural impact of 1995’s Clueless and fighting with Dean over the stupidest thing, you had been doodling in your journal to keep you occupied. You were focused on drawing the wendigo from your previous hunt to the most detailed extent your memory would allow. 

Most of your sketches were placed next to journal entries about the hunts you embarked on, or you wrote around them once you had finished your drawings. The drawings themselves were halfway decent, in your opinion. However, you always wished you would’ve been able to take art classes in your youth and had some semblance of normalcy. You did all your shading and drawing with black pens you’d purchased while hopping state to state. You found the process relaxing and helpful at getting your mind off the horrors of your day to day life. 

Your shading process was interrupted by the Impala’s roaring engine stalling to a low rumble in front of what had formerly been the drowning victim’s home. 

You got out of the car and headed up the painted green steps leading to the house. The wooden stair boards creaked beneath your boots as you walked. Dean knocked on the door of the house and was greeted by a man that looked to be about your age standing there.

“Will Carlton?” Dean questioned the young man.

“Yeah, that's right.”

“I'm Agent Ford,” the older Winchester started. “This is Agent Hamill—” he gestured to Sam, “Agent Fisher—” he gestured to you, “We're with the US Wildlife Service.” He held his fake badge up for Will to see. “Can we ask you a couple questions? Maybe see the spot where your sister went down?”

“Sure,” Will nodded. He led you and the boys down to the edge of the water. “She was about a hundred yards out.” He pointed at a spot far out into the lake. “That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

The older man sitting on a bench on the wooden dock that jutted out into the lake grabbed your attention. The following interrogation was just background noise to you as you studied the man’s slumped over form. 

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam piped up.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.” Will was failing at keeping his aggravation at bay. You were sure he had already had a week full of questioning keeping the wound of his sister’s passing ripped wide open.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?”

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you heard Dean say. You sucked in a breath when Dean suddenly yanked on your arm to get you to follow him to the car.

“What was that for?” you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You wanna stop creeping on the old man and focus on the case?”

“I wasn’t creeping on him,” you replied.

“Yeah? Well, then what were you doing?”

“Just... thinking,” you answered. 

“You can think when we’re not in the middle of talkin’ to a witness,” he told you.

“Are you that much of a control freak that I can’t think when I want to?” you asked incredulously. “Grow up.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something back to you, but Sam cut him off in an attempt to stop a fight from happening in front of the Carltons. “Okay, so. Can’t talk to Mr. Carlton.“

“Okay...” you trailed off, “So our best bet is the police station, then.”

***

The sheriff, whose name you found out was Jake, walked out from behind the desk in the police station’s lobby as he addressed you and the boys. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

“You sure it's accidental?” Sam challenged. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.”

Jake led you and the Winchesters into his office. “Like what?” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please.”

You took a seat in one of the chairs and Dean sat in the other. Sam leaned on the back of your chair as the sheriff continued to speak.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah, Dean laughed, “Right.”

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still—” Jake sat down behind his cluttered desk, leaning forward on it on his forearms, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That's weird, though,” the older Winchester noted, “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.”

“I know,” Jake started, “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“I know,” Dean told him.

“Anyway,” the sheriff sighed, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean questioned.

“Well, the dam, of course,” Jake stated as if it were obvious.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh,” Dean stuttered awkwardly, “it sprung a leak.”

You jumped in before Dean could make the situation worse. “No, it’s falling apart, remember? The feds won’t give them the money to fix it, so they opened the spillway,” you told him. 

“It’s good to see somebody does their research,” the sheriff commented. “As Federal Wildlife, you should already know that.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed.

A few quiet knocks on the door drew your attention behind you.

A pretty brunette walked into the office. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

You and Dean stood up, facing the young woman.

“I can come back later,” she said, turning to leave.

Jake’s voice stopped her movements as he stood up as well. “Gentlemen— and lady— this is my daughter.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the older Winchester smirked.

‘Is he seriously making his voice deeper?’

“I'm Dean.” He shook the woman’s hand. You fought the urge to scoff, given he couldn’t spare you a handshake when he’d met you.

“Andrea Barr,” she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He was eyeing her up and down. 

‘He’s still fucking smiling.’

“They're from the Wildlife Service,” her father interjected. “About the lake.”

“Oh.”

A little boy with shaggy, copper-colored hair walked out from behind Andrea, his head down low.

“Oh, hey there,” Dean grinned at the boy. “What's your name?”

The child looked up at Dean with sad eyes before turning and walking out of the room without saying a word. Andrea looked at Dean apologetically before following who you assumed was her son out of the room.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake answered for the boy. 

You watched as Andrea gave Lucas a box of crayons and ran her hand over his hair. 

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have,” the older man admitted. He went and stood by the entrance to the office, turning to face you and the boys. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He led the three of you out of the office.

You thanked the sheriff.

Dean looked at the sheriff as he began to talk.“You know, now that you mentioned it—”

‘Oh, boy.’

He directed his attention toward Andrea, “—could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel,” she told him. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”

“Two—” He feigned confusion. “Would you mind showing us?”

Andrea laughed. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean stated, his smile bright.

‘Is he for real?’

“I'm headed that way anyway,” she shrugged. She told her father she would be back to pick up Lucas at three and told Lucas that she would take him to the park before leaving with you and the boys. 

“Thanks again,” Sam nodded at Jake as he followed Andrea out of the station. 

You and Sam stayed a few paces back from Dean and Andrea as he attempted to charm the brunette. You and Sam both wanted the pavement to swallow you whole.

“So, cute kid,” you heard Dean tell her. 

“Thanks,” she replied.

‘Short, to the point, not taking any of his crap,’ you thought. ‘I like her.’

“Kids are the best, huh?” the older Winchester tried again.

Andrea glanced back at him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a smile on her face as she continued walking.

She stopped in front of a place that said “Lakefront Motel” in bold, white letters, contrasting with the red background the words were placed upon. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

Sam thanked her.

She turned to address Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

You let the laugh you were trying to suppress burst out of your lips. “I like her!”

“‘Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids.” Sam was not missing the opportunity to rag on his brother. 

“I love kids!” his older brother argued. 

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam responded.

Dean paused to think for a moment but came up empty. You waved your hands at him in a shooing motion before walking toward the motel with Sam.

“I’m thinking!” he called after the two of you.

“Have fun going to get the car, Dean!” you called back to him as his younger brother chuckled.

“We seriously just walked two blocks and left the car at the police station all so Dean could try to hook up with the hot mom,” you sighed, shaking your head. 

You and the boys had gone to your separate motel rooms to unpack once Dean had grabbed your bags— well, his and Sam’s— making you go out to the Impala to get your own. 

Sam told you that he and Dean were going to take some time to unpack and the three of you would meet up again later. You were never one for unpacking your duffel bag on hunts since you would not be staying in one location for very long. Instead, you took the downtime you had been given to do some research.

You pulled your laptop along with a few other items out of your bag before flopping down onto the flimsy mattress and kicking your combat boots off. As you blew out a puff of air, you opened your laptop to The Lake Manitoc Tribune’s browser page. You scrolled through article after article on the drownings in the town. One article, in particular, caught your attention. The headline read “Local Man in Tragic Accident” with the story of a man named Christopher Barr written below. 

‘Christopher Barr... as in Andrea Barr?’

Your question was answered when you scrolled a little way down the page to see a picture of a soaking wet and traumatized Lucas wrapped in a towel. He was standing next to a policeman who you assumed was Lucas’s grandfather. 

You read the article in full detail. It told the story of how Lucas and his father were out swimming in the lake when Christopher was pulled beneath the surface of the water. Lucas was floating on a nearby wooden platform at the time of his father’s drowning. Two hours later, Lucas was rescued. 

‘That poor thing...’

You were no stranger to witnessing the death of a parent, so you knew how hard it must have been for Lucas. As far as you could tell from reading through loads of articles, Lucas was the only eyewitness to see whatever creature you were dealing with. This struck you as peculiar since there were so many accounts of other lake monster sightings, making you believe you were not dealing with something corporeal. 

You heard a knock on the door moments later, and you opened it to find Sam standing there. You invited him into your room, and the two of you sat at the small table by the window of the room to talk. 

“So,” he started, “we figured out what’s up with Lucas.”

“Yeah, I did too,” you responded. “That poor kid.”

“Yeah...” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

“Where’s Dean?”

“Back in our room. He’s still unpacking.”

“Jesus, how much shit does he carry around with him? He’s been unpacking for, like, forty-five minutes,” you scoffed.

“He’s slow,” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” you retorted. 

You saw Sam’s eyes drift over to your bed where some of the contents of your duffel bag were scattered. He nodded at what you assumed was your open journal as he questioned, “You draw?”

“Yep,” you replied. 

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair to grab it off your bed. You opened it to some of your most recent drawings and let him flip through them. 

“Dude, these are really good,” he complimented you. 

You thanked him with a smile. “I did one of you the first week I met you.” You showed it to him.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “This is amazing.” He looked from the drawing back up to you. “But why’d you draw me?”

“Well, I draw people I find interesting,” you shrugged. "You and that freaky head of yours are interesting.”

“Who are the other people you drew?” He gestured to one of an older woman from a few months back. 

“Not a clue,” you answered. “Like I said, people I find interesting. Random people in bars, diners; pretty much anywhere.”

“That’s so cool,” he told you. Sam handed you the book back. 

“What about you?” you asked as you took it from him. “You have any fun hobbies? Hidden talents I should know about?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I like to read.”

“Lame,” you joked, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something more fun than that.”

“Well, I liked going to the gym at Stanford and going on runs.”

“Oh, so you’re a health nut,” you chuckled.

“I guess so, yeah,” Sam laughed. 

A moment passed before you spoke again. “You remind me so much of my brother.”

He turned his head to you. “Didn’t know you had one.”

You shrugged. “I, uh, don’t talk about him much. But yeah.”

“What was his name?”

“I always called him ‘Stevie’ or ‘Bubba,’ but his name was Steven.” You smiled fondly at his memory. “He was super smart. Greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Before you could continue, you were cut off by a knock on the door. 

“You girls done in there?” Dean called. 

“I guess we are now,” you remarked. 

Sam got up and let his brother into the room as you glanced at the clock on your bedside table that read “3:15.” 

“We should probably head over to the park now,” you told the boys.

“Park? Why?” Dean inquired.

“Andrea said she was bringing Lucas there at three. He’s the only eyewitness we got, so we should probably try to talk to him,” you informed him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

Conveniently enough for you and the Winchesters, there was only one park in Lake Manitoc since it was such a small town. You noticed Andrea sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the small field near the playground watching over her son. He was sat on the ground by another bench a little ways off from Andrea, using the bench as a table for him to color on. Lucas had crayons, paper, and what appeared to be green army men scattered on the bench. 

“Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea once you three had walked up next to her bench. 

The brunette looked up at you three, smiling as she stated, “I'm here with my son.” 

“Oh,” the older Winchester started, “Mind if I say hi?” Without waiting for her answer, he went over to Lucas. 

Andrea addressed you and Sam as the two of you sat on the bench next to her. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.”

“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam told her.

You watched as Dean knelt next to the young boy while Andrea and Sam talked about Christopher’s drowning. Lucas paid Dean no mind, continuing to color as Dean played with the army men on the bench briefly. He spoke a little more before grabbing a piece of paper and sitting on the bench. Dean showed off whatever he had drawn to Lucas before putting the drawing down when Lucas was unresponsive and decided to say something else to the young boy. Moments later, the older Winchester walked back over to you, Andrea, and Sam. 

Andrea was saying something about how Lucas had not spoken since his father’s death as Dean reached your group. 

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Sam told her. “What are the doctors saying?”

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she explained. 

“That can't be easy. For either of you.”

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” she trailed off and shook her head. 

There was a short silence broken by Dean. “Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”

You noticed Lucas get up from his seat by the bench out of the corner of your eye and make his way over to your group with a piece of construction paper in hand.

“You know,” Andrea began, “he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she was caught by surprise to see Lucas suddenly next to her. “Oh, hey, sweetheart.”

Lucas ignored his mom and looked up at Dean. He handed the man the picture. 

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, looking the drawing over. “Thanks, Lucas.”

You caught a glimpse of the paper, recognizing the house in it but unable to place where you had seen it. 

“We’ll see you around,” Sam told Andrea as you and the Winchesters turned away from the Barrs.

You studied Dean as he looked over the picture. In your mind, he was still a dick but had made the child feel comfortable enough to communicate by some means with him.

“What are you looking at?” Dean interrogated you gruffly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

‘And he’s back to being a dick.’ 

***

You slept pretty well that night but woke up groggy in deep need of coffee. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up from your bed, moving over to your duffel bag. You grabbed a clean black shirt from your bag along with a pair of jeans and socks. You tucked the oversized shirt into your jeans and tugged on your combat boots. After finishing your morning routine, you headed out of the door. You figured it was late enough that the boys should be up, and knocked on the door to their room. Sam opened it a few seconds later. 

“I want coffee,” you stated dryly, feeling a bit like a zombie in your decaffeinated state. 

“Me too,” he answered. “You want anything, Dean?”

The older brother grunted in response from somewhere within the room.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

After grabbing the Impala’s keys, you and Sam headed over to the car.

“Is he always that cheery in the mornings?” you asked referring to Dean.

“Yeah, he’s a joy to be around when he first wakes up,” Sam responded sarcastically. The two of you got into the car and Sam began to drive away from the motel.

“Ooh, I saw a cute little coffee shop over that way.” You pointed out of the passenger’s side window. 

Sam followed your instructions, and soon the two of you were off for a drive in the neighborhood around the lake with coffees in hand. 

You straightened up in your seat when you saw an ambulance in front of the Carlton house. “Pull over.”

Sam did as told, and the two of you hopped out of the car. There were several other onlookers standing near the house. 

“What happened?” you asked one of the older women nearby.

“Oh, the young man who lived here, Will Carlton,” she began, putting a hand on her chest, “he died last night.”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously.

“The poor thing drowned.”

“How?” You gave the woman a quizzical look. 

“I don’t really understand it myself,” she laughed uncomfortably, “he drowned in the sink. His father didn’t find him till this morning.”

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath. 

“Poor Bill,” the older woman sighed, looking at the house. “First his godson in May, then his daughter, and now Will.”

“His godson?” Sam questioned.

“Christopher Barr.”

You looked up at Sam, who looked down at you with a confused expression that mirrored your own.

You said your goodbyes to the older woman and headed back to the car. 

“This just gets weirder all the time,” Sam commented as he drove the two of you away from the scene. 

“At least now we know there’s a connection to Bill Carlton,” you reminded him.

“But what did he do to deserve this?”

“Hell if I know.” 

You and Sam filled Dean in on the situation as soon as you walked into the boys’ shared motel room.

“What the hell? So you're right,” Dean said, talking to Sam, “this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” 

“Yeah, but what?” you asked. 

“I don't know,” he told you in an annoyed tone as if you had asked a stupid question. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...” he trailed off. He straightened up and his eyes grew wider as he came to a realization. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” You were making the same connections he was.

“Yeah.”

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time,” you added.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean got up from the bed as he spoke, his stress level seeming to rise slightly. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He sat down on one of the chairs at the table near the window. 

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton,” Sam mentioned. 

“Yeah, it took both his kids,” the older Winchester acknowledged.

“And this lady at the Carlton house said that Chris was Bill’s godson,” you explained. 

Dean looked up at you and Sam. “Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

***

Your attempted questioning of Mr. Carlton had gone unsuccessfully. 

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please,” the older man dismissed you. Through the duration of his visit, he refused to look up from the boards of the wooden dock. His posture had been slumped over, and his facial expression remained solemn. 

“We’re sorry,” you told him before you followed the boys back to the car. 

“What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell,” Dean replied. “I also think he's not telling us something.”

“So now what?” the younger brother inquired, leaning on the roof of the car.

“Huh,” you let out, still facing Bill’s home.

“What?” Sam asked. 

“You got Lucas’s drawing on you by any chance?” you asked Dean. 

He looked at you questioningly but pulled it out of his jacket pocket nonetheless. 

You unfolded the paper and held it up next to the Carlton house. Lucas had drawn Bill’s house on the paper, which is why the drawing looked familiar to you. 

“Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something,” Dean commented. 

***

You and the boys were just inside the door of the Barr household, trying to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas.

“I'm sorry,” Andrea expressed, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”

“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?” 

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there,” Sam explained. 

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.” 

You could tell Andrea did not really think that. 

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son,” Dean tried one last time.

Andrea gave in, showing you and the boys down the hall to Lucas’s room. Your group found Lucas sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and army men. He was coloring another picture. 

Dean walked into the room and crouched down beside the boy’s setup. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

You looked over at what Lucas was drawing. It was a person in the water. You quirked an eyebrow at it as Dean placed the picture of the Carlton house in front of Lucas.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me,” Dean offered. 

Lucas ignored him.

“You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

That seemingly touched something within Lucas, who dropped the crayon and looked up at the older Winchester. 

You heard Andrea suck in a breath as Lucas handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow two-story house, and a little boy with a red bicycle. 

“Thanks, Lucas,” Dean said quietly.

***

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean brought up as he drove along the highway. The three of you were attempting to find the place Lucas had drawn. 

“There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies,” Sam explained.

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean remarked.

You leaned forward on your elbows on the back of the leather front seat. “All right, we got another house to find.” 

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean brought up, his tone once again implying what he thought you were suggesting was stupid.

Sam looked at the picture, which he held in his hand. “See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart,” the older brother mocked. 

“You know, um...” Sam started. “What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.”

“It's no big deal,” Dean shrugged. 

Sam looked at him with his signature puppy dog eyes expression.

“Oh God,” the older Winchester groaned. “We're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” 

You and the boys walked up to the yellow house that matched the one in the drawing. The house just so happened to be across the street from a church just like Lucas had drawn. 

You were greeted at the door by a petite old woman. “Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you grinned back. “I’m (Y/N), this is Sam and Dean—” you gestured between the two boys, “—we just have a question for you.”

“Come in, come in.” She was incredibly welcoming as she allowed you and the Winchesters into her home.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean began, “but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.”

The woman’s formerly cheery disposition suddenly shifted to solemn. “No sir. Not for a very long time.” She looked over at a picture of a smiling little boy on a table in the living room. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She turned back to you and the boys. “The police never— I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” The woman’s voice wavered as she spoke.

Your eyebrows turned upwards out of sympathy for her. 

Sam nudged your elbow and pointed out toy soldiers sitting on one of the side tables. 

“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” The woman echoed Bill Carlton’s earlier statement. 

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” the older Winchester question. 

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” the woman whimpered. 

Dean picked up a picture off of a mirror in the room. It was of two little boys in boy scout uniforms, one of them being Peter with his red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” Dean read from the back of the photo. 

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam stated softly. “We’ll just be going now. Thank you for your time.” He and his brother turned to head out of the door.

The woman turned away, her sniffles tugging on your heartstrings as you went to follow the boys. 

“Mrs. Sweeney?” 

She turned to you, as did the boys, who watched from the door. 

“Can I give you a hug?”

She seemed surprised by your question but accepted your offer nonetheless. As soon as you wrapped your arms around her, she broke down into sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to her. 

She nodded into your shoulder as a response. 

After another moment, you released her and rubbed up and down her arms. “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded once more. 

You and the boys showed yourselves out. None of you said a word until about halfway through the drive.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean mentioned.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.”

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

“What if Bill killed him?”

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean’s eyes flickered to yours in the rearview mirror. “This is probably the quietest I’ve heard you since I met you, (Y/N). Wanna share what you’re thinkin’ about with the class?”

“Like you give a shit,” you grumbled back.

“I was trying to, but fine, keep being a bitch.”

You could not believe Dean. “What, you treat me like I’m stupid, act like a dick to me for weeks, and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you’re genuinely concerned?” 

“Forget I asked.”

The Impala pulled in front of the Carlton house, and to your surprise, you had not seen Bill sitting on the dock. You and the Winchesters got out of the car, calling out to Mr. Carlton.

You wheeled around when you heard the roar of what sounded like a boat engine. 

“Guys?” you called to the boys behind you when you saw Bill driving his boat out into the lake. 

You immediately broke out into a sprint, yelling for the man to turn his boat around. 

Bill turned his head to look at you three standing at the edge of the dock but continued driving out. As soon as he turned his head back around, the water beneath the boat sprang up as if a bomb had been blown up beneath the surface. Bill’s boat flipped over into the water, and neither Bill nor the boat ever resurfaced.

You and the boys called Jake to the scene of Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Neighbors gathered around the lake, looking for signs of Bill, the boat, or whatever had taken him down. After Jake found nothing and questioned the neighbors who witnessed what had happened, he asked you and the Winchesters to head back to the station with him. 

Once inside the station, you spotted Andrea and Lucas sitting behind the desk in the police station’s lobby. 

When the young woman saw you, she bounced up and put the bag that was in her hands on the seat behind her. “Sam, Dean, (Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here. 

Jake looked between your group and Andrea. “So now you're on a first-name basis,” he scoffed. “What are you doing here?” He directed the question to his daughter.

“I brought you dinner,” she explained. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He shook his head and moved past her to head into his office, you and the boys hot on his tail.

The sound of Andrea’s voice made all four of you stop and turn around. “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

“Right now we don't know what the truth is,” Jake relayed. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

As soon as the older man mentioned Lucas going home, the little boy jumped up with a panicked look on his face. He whined and tugged on Dean’s arm as Andrea and Jake tried to comfort him. 

Andrea managed to get her son off of Dean and pull him out of the office. You watched the pair as they left, and noticed Lucas’s eyes never left Dean.

The sheriff threw his jacket onto a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he walked into the office.

You looked at Sam and the two of you supposed you were to follow Jake.

You sat in one chair, Dean sat in the other, and Sam leaned on the back of your chair just as had happened before. 

The older man leaned on the front of his desk in front of your trio. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see,” Jake trailed off, recovering a moment later, “something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

“Yep, that about sums it up,” you replied.

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Jake casually mentioned.

You managed to keep a poker face on, but apparently, Dean gave you away.

“That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three.”

“See, now, we can explain that—” Dean started, but was immediately cut off by the officer. 

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Jake jutted his finger in your face as he spoke, his tone harsh.

“Door number two is... rather appealing.” You were trying to keep up your plucky attitude despite your circumstances.

“That's the one I'd pick,” he said sharply. 

***

You had your head against the window, legs tossed to the side of you as the hum of the Impala’s engine was slowly lulling you to sleep.

Sam’s voice pulled you out of your haze. “Green.”

“What?” Dean asked. Apparently, he had been in a daze, too.

‘Not good considering this asshole’s the one driving.’

“Light's green,” Sam elaborated. 

Dean turned right.

“Uh, the interstate's the other way,” you yawned.

“I know.”

“Oh-kay—” you dragged out the word, “—so why are you heading back to Lake Manitoc?”

“Cause I think we still got more work to do,” he responded.

“But Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam interjected.

“I'm not so sure,” Dean replied shortly. 

Sam gave his brother more pushback. “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean argued.

“But why would you think that?” 

“Because Lucas was really scared.”

‘Can’t argue with him there.’

The younger Winchester was caught by surprise. “That's what this is about?” 

“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean tried to play off his concern nonchalantly, but you could see right through the act.

‘Aw, he does have a heart.’

“Y’know, I’m actually with Dean on this one,” you declared. 

Dean quirked a brow at you in the rearview mirror, but you simply shrugged at him.

“Who are you two? And what have you done with my brother and (Y/N)?” Sam quipped sarcastically, glancing between you and his brother with a confused expression.

There was a slight pause before both you and Dean said in unison, “Shut up.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Sam looked around as you and the Winchesters stood on the front porch of the Barr house. “It's pretty late, man.”

Dean ignored him, ringing the doorbell. Immediately it opened to reveal a panicked Lucas.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called after the boy as he took off into the house. 

You followed behind Dean as all four of you sprinted through the house. You heard a splash beneath your feet and realized water was pouring down the stairs in front of you. Lucas started to pound on the door that led to where the water was coming from, which you assumed was a bathroom. 

Dean pulled Lucas out of the way just before you gave a powerful kick to the door, effectively knocking it in. 

Inside the bathroom, the tub was filled to the brim with murky, brown water. You jumped out of the way to let Sam try to pull Andrea out of there, knowing he would be a better fit for the job than you were. 

Sam eventually managed to pull her out of the bathtub. They landed with Sam on his back and Andrea on top of him, sobbing and coughing up water. You immediately offered the woman a towel you had found and wrapped her in it.

Lucas threw Dean off of him and immediately wrapped his arms around his mom. 

Happy to see that she was okay, you and the boys let Andrea have some privacy to get dressed. After she had done that, she and Sam went into the living room to talk while you and Dean looked for a connection to Peter Sweeney. 

You found a bookshelf full of photo albums and began giving the labels a quick once-over. You found one with “Jake— 12 years old” scrawled across the white label of the brown cover. You flipped to a page with pictures of the same Boy Scout troop that Peter Sweeney seemed to have been in from that picture you saw at the Sweeney house. You shut the book on your finger, holding your spot in the photo album.

“Whatcha got?” Dean asked.

“You’ll see.” You walked past him back into the living room. You opened the photo album to the page your finger was tabbing, putting the book in front of Andrea on the coffee table. “You recognize the kids in these pictures?”

She seemed caught off-guard, and you felt bad for potentially startling her after the night she had had. 

“What? Um, no.” She took a pause. “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” The brunette dragged her finger across the page gesturing to her dad as a young boy. Jake was standing next to who you recognized as Peter Sweeney in several of the pictures.

“Chris Barr's drowning,” Dean spoke up. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff,” the younger man corrected his brother, “they were both involved with Peter.”

“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea was looking at the three of you like you were crazy.

“Lucas?” Dean’s voice brought your attention to the little boy staring out of the window. “Lucas, what is it?”

Lucas kept his gaze focused outside as he walked out of the door. Andrea continued to call after Lucas as you all followed him outside. Lucas stopped and looked at the ground and then up at the older Winchester, who stood beside him.

Dean faced Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”

Andrea did as told, pulling her son away from your trio. 

You turned to the brothers. “You guys still have those shovels in the trunk?” 

“Keep workin’ hard over there, sweetheart,” Dean deadpanned. 

You pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning against. “Dude, you only had two shovels and you were too busy trying to be macho and digging whatever’s down there up yourself to let me use one of them,” you protested. “So don’t tell me shit about ‘working hard.’ But by all means—” you then started to use a mocking baby voice, “—if Dean is getting a wittle too sweaty, I’d be happy to take his pwace.”

“Nope. I got it.”

You loved using his stubbornness against him. “So hush your mouth.”

He glared back at you and plunged his shovel back into the dirt when the metal part of the shovel hit another piece of metal. You and Dean both looked down at what laid beneath the ground and you helped the boys pull the object out of the dirt. 

“Peter’s bike,” Sam remarked.

You heard a gun cock behind your head before feeling the barrel pressed squarely on the back of it. “Who are you?” 

‘Jake.’

The boys slowly turned around.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam pleaded. 

Both he and Dean dropped their shovels. 

“How did you know that was there?” The sheriff demanded.

The older Winchester did not answer his question. “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” The sheriff’s lie was not even in the ballpark of convincing.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.”

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up to the altercation.

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit,” Dean continued, keeping his eyes trained on Jake. 

“Peter’s gonna get everyone you love— Lucas, Andrea— and drag their bodies god knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then it’s gonna take you. It won’t stop until it does,” you informed him, trying to keep your voice even despite the cold chill running down your spine emanating from the spot where the gun met your head. 

Jake pressed the gun further into your skull. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”

“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” you told the older man.

“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane!” he chided. 

Dean scoffed. “I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” 

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea interrupted, her voice shaking.

“No,” her father lied. “Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.”

The brunette wasn’t having it. “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.”

A pause followed.

“Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone,” Andrea pleaded.

No response came once again. You felt the gun behind your head drop away. You rushed over to Sam and Dean, your adrenaline still keeping your breath in a vice grip. You could see the guilt beginning to overtake Jake’s features. 

“Oh my God,” Andrea breathed.

“Billy and I were at the lake,” Jake started to explain. “Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Makes our job so much easier.’

Jake’s focus remained on his daughter. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

Dean was done with Jake’s skeptical attitude. “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.”

Andrea turned her head and immediately cried, “Lucas!”

You turned your head in the direction she was looking to see the little boy leaning over the side of the lake reaching for something.

You took off, following close behind Jake as you ran. You spotted Lucas get pulled into the water by something, causing you to cry out his name. You ran off the solid ground onto the dock, leaping into the water once you reached the edge of the platform. You pulled yourself deep into the lake, trying your best to make out the shape of Lucas or the spirit of Peter. You went back up to the surface, taking in a deep breath. You looked over to Andrea on the dock, and she stared back at you with a panicked expression. You shook your head, diving back below the surface.

While you did not see Lucas, you did see a boy with skin pale gray and tattered clothing rising to the surface a mere few feet from you. You flinched back, the appearance of Peter’s spirit catching you off-guard. It grabbed Jake, who you just noticed had gone into the water and began pulling him under. You sprang into action, swimming as fast as you could over to where Jake was being pulled down. You reached your hand down, trying to grab him, but. it was too late. You were running out of air, and because the water below was getting blacker as you went deeper, you could not see Jake anymore.

You clawed your way back to the surface, gasping for air when you came up. Andrea looked at you frantically, and you shook your head once more. She screamed “No!” just before splashing coming from behind you on the right caught your attention. You looked behind you to see Dean holding an unconscious Lucas to his chest. The poor little boy’s head was lying on Dean’s shoulder limply, and you and Sam swam to help him. Sam took Lucas ashore, and you checked him over to see if he would need CPR. Once you determined that he would, you immediately set to work. You were able to revive him with two cycles of rescue breaths and chest compressions. He immediately coughed up water as air filled his lungs once more. You got out of Andrea’s way and let her hug her son. 

The scene before you— Andrea on her knees, crying and hugging her rescued son— was the reason why you did what you did. Seeing families reunited and given a temporary happy ending was what made you love hunting, despite how gruesome the job could get at times. You figured that even though your life was so screwed to hell, at least you could save the lives of others.

Once you and the boys had changed clothes, dried off, and packed up, you began loading your stuff into the car. Dean clearly had something on his mind, and you were not the only one to notice.

“Look, we're not gonna save everybody,” Sam reminded his brother, having figured out what Dean was mulling over.

“I know." His voice was distant. 

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” you heard Andrea call. 

You looked up to see the young woman walking toward you with Lucas, who carried a tray of food wrapped in cellophane.

You all walked toward each other, stopping once you had met in the middle. 

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea smiled. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked his mom.

The sound of his voice made you smile. 

“Of course.” The young woman kissed her son’s head. 

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dean led Lucas over to the car, and you stayed with Sam to talk to Andrea.

“How you holding up?” the younger brother asked her.

“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?”

“Andrea, I'm sorry,” Sam sighed.

Andrea shook her head. “You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

You heard Dean talking to Lucas from behind you, and you turned around to face them as Dean spoke. “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”

“Zeppelin rules!” the boy cheered.

Dean cracked a genuine grin. “That's right. Up high.”

The two boys high-fived as you, Sam, and Andrea began walking over to them.

“You take care of your mom, okay?” Dean told Lucas.

“All right.”

Andrea leaned over the open door of the Impala that Dean stood behind and pressed her lips to his.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

You rolled your eyes, pissed at him for his ability to pick up whoever he wanted. 

He scratched his head, walking around to the other side of the car. “Sam, (Y/N), move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

You got into the seat behind Dean, waving to Andrea and Lucas who were waving back at you as Dean backed the Impala out of its parking spot.

Once you were on the road, you spoke up over the music. “Y’know, I’m not dissin’ on Zeppelin because I love them, but there were so many other amazing bands that ‘rule’ that you could’ve told Lucas about.”

Dean groaned. “Really? You’re picking a fight with me about that?”

“I’m not picking a fight, I’m giving my honest opinion,” you replied.

“Okay, well, who would you ‘ve told Lucas about?” he questioned.

“Um, how ‘bout Fleetwood Mac, Metallica, Guns ‘n’ Roses, Blondie, Black Sabbath, need I go on?”

“I cannot believe you just said Fleetwood Mac is better than Zeppelin,” he stated incredulously.

“It’s fucking Stevie Nicks, dude, of course Fleetwood’s better than Zeppelin,” you argued. “She’s a goddess.”

Dean turned left onto the Interstate, picking up the Impala’s speed. “Robert Plant’s better.”

“Yeah, no,” you responded dryly. 

Instead of responding verbally, Dean put one of his Led Zeppelin tapes into the cassette player and cranked the volume up. “What’d you say? Can’t hear you over the greatest band of all time!”

For the first time since you met him, you genuinely laughed at him. “You are such an idiot!” 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireaderr @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylorr @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

[justmeinadaze]

Date Night: Roleplay (Steve X You)

A/N: I was watching Modern Family and that episode with Claire and Phil doing the role-play at the hotel gave me this idea lol

Warning: Married couple Steve Harrington and Fem Reader, SMUT, role-play, daddy kink, slight choking, dirty talk. FLUFF, these two are high school sweethearts with playful banter who love each other.

Word Count: 2748

Steve sat at the hotel bar after a long day at work slowly sipping on the drink the bartender gave him. His suit felt like it was sticking to him but the last thing he wanted to do at that moment was go home to change and go to bed. The strong smell of perfume filled the air and as he turned to see where it was coming from you sat down beside him ordering a drink with a confidence that made him swoon. 

He couldn’t help but stare as you patiently waited. The little black dress you had on hugged your curves in a way that had Steve salivating. Your gorgeous high heeled foot swung as you crossed your legs together. 

“Are you trying to be subtle? Because if you are, you are failing.”, you giggle as you flash him a sultry smile. 

“I’m…shit. I’m so sorry. I’ve just never seen a more beautiful woman.”

The bartender hands you your martini as your smile grows. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”

He blinks, silently giving himself a pep talk as he makes his move. “Well if you don’t mind me saying, your husband must be a moron.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

Steve leans in a bit closer to you and you try to control your eyes from rolling back at the sexy scent of his cologne and aftershave. 

“Because if you were my wife, you’d never make it out of the house dressed like that because I’d rip it off your body and fuck you till you were screaming my name.”

His honey brown eyes watched you with amusement as your sexy smirk faltered a bit at his confession. 

“Hm. Well someone is cocky. What IS your name?”

“Steve. Steve Harrington.” He reaches out to shake your hand and you provide him your own telling him your name as well. 

“I knew a Steve Harrington in high school. He was a bit of an asshole.”

He chuckled and it comforted your nerves as a bit of his personality fell through. “Most Harringtons are, I’m afraid. Even I was a bit of a fucker in school.”

“What made you change?”

“My wife.” You blushed and he playfully craned his neck to follow your eye line as you tried to look away. “Uh huh. She was so beautiful inside and out. I knew after our first conversation I would do anything for her.”

“Then what are you doing at a hotel bar, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve obnoxiously sighs as he turns around and leans his elbows on the counter. “Oh, ya know. She’s too busy at home taking care of our three rotten children.”

“Oh, oh, okay.”, you laugh and he beams widely in your direction. “I’m sure they aren’t that bad.”

“What about you? Where’s your husband?”

“Probably at home fixing his hair in the mirror while our three ADORABLE children run around the house causing havoc.” 

“I’m sure his hair is fabulous.”

He scoots his chair closer to you till his slack covered knees are pressed against yours. You both talk about trivial things as you continue to sip your drinks and exchange the occasional flirty touch. The urge to reach out and caress his face or run your manicured nails down his button-up shirt covered chest was killing you.

Steve knew you were struggling and it was making the bulge in his pants get bigger every time you readjusted your legs to rub your thighs together. A man in the lobby sat at the hotel’s piano and began playing a slow song that had you slightly swaying in your chair. 

“Do you want to dance with me, Y/N?”

You smile as you nod and he tenderly takes your hand, helping you out of your chair, and leads you to the makeshift dance floor. As he placed his hands on your waist, you clasped your hands around his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just how glad I am that I met you.”, you answer. “What about you?”

“Same. I’m also…no. I shouldn’t say. I’m a respectful gentleman.”

“Uh huh.”, you giggle as he smirks. “How about we make a deal Mr. Harrington? How about from this point forward…” You pull him closer till feel his groin press against your body. “…you’re allowed to be completely disrespectful.”

Steve groaned slightly as his forehead leaned against yours. “I was thinking how sweet you probably taste between your legs. How bad I want to make you cum on my tongue in that sexy dress. I want to show a naughty girl like you things that your husband never could.”

 Your hands almost roughly tug his lips to yours. “I have…a room…if you want to…”

He hastily nods and you grab his hand powerwalking with him towards the elevator. As soon as the doors close and you press the button for your floor, you jump into his arms, kissing his lips before he trails them to your neck and sucks on the flesh making you moan. 

All too quickly, the elevator dings open and you both pry apart as you lead him towards your room. 

As soon as the key clicks it open, you’re both tumbling through as your mouths mingle together. Pushing you against the wall, you tear at his shirt as his palm reaches between your legs to yank down your silky, lace underwear. 

“I half expected you not to have any panties on.”, he chuckled, throwing them to the side. 

“I have to make a bit of a challenge, Mr. Harrington.” Your hands fumble with his belt as he continues to kiss on your neck, letting out a humid breath against your skin when your palm makes it through the waistband of his boxers and rubs against his cock. “Fuck…so big.”

Steve grunts in pleasure as he takes a hold of your hips and lifts you onto a table near the front entrance. 

“Are you sure you still want to taste me in this dress? Because I’m dying to feel your mouth on my body.”

“I’m a man of my word, honey, but how about we meet in the middle?” His lips attach to your throat again as his fingers yank down the top half of the fabric exposing your tits to his to tongue as it glides down your chest and plays with the erect nub. “Fuck, baby. The sounds you make are so fucking sexy.”

Steve descends to his knees, teasing you as he tenderly kisses along the inside of your thighs. 

“C-Can I ask you something?” He responds with a gravelly hm as he gets closer to your core. “What’s your fantasy?” The man freezes as his beautiful eyes look up at you with confusion. “I mean…is there something you’ve always wanted to do with your wife that you felt like you couldn’t?”

Rising to his full height, he leans his hands on either side of you and you see the game you two are playing begin to recede from his gaze. “No, no, no Mr. Harrington. Come back to me.”, you coo in a loving tone. “I meant…for example…when my husband and I make love he whispers sexily in my ear all these dirty things and I just fucking love it.” Steve grins when you giggle. “I just sometimes wish…he’d take it a bit further. Not all the time but…just be a little…rougher with me. Fuck me. You know?”

He nods, his eyes looking past you for a moment before coming back to yours with a smile on his face that could make the devil blush. After kissing your lips again, he brings two of his fingers to your mouth and without hesitation you eagerly suck on them, running your tongue over the pads and around his knuckles. 

“I love making love to my wife. She’s always so open minded about everything that I’m surprised sometimes. But…there is one thing…I’ve always kind of wanted to hear her say but I was nervous she’d think I was weird.” Sliding his fingers out of your mouth, he uses his other hand to grip the back of your neck as he thrust his two saliva coated digits into your entrance.

“Sometimes when I’m jacking off, I imagine her saying it and I just—fuck—I cum so hard.”

“What is it? Tell me, baby.”

You panted against his lips as his pace quickened ever so slightly. “I can fuck you the way you want to be fucked. I can give you want you need, sweetheart. Let Daddy take care of you.”

“Fuck me.”

His fingers moved so fast the sound of your slick echoed off the walls. Reaching for his wrist, you futilely tried to push his hand away as he made you cum. Your nails clawed at his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Please. Please, Daddy. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy. Please.”, you beg. 

Steve practically growled at the name as he lifted you again and carried you to bed. “Mmm—come here, honey.” He positioned you till you were straddling his face and you mewled when his tongue licked a stripe through your folds up to your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You taste so fucking good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he got lost in you, his tongue lapping at every part of your sex before wrapping his lips around your nub. Leaning back, your hand tried to reach for his cock but his pants were in the way. Steve felt you struggle and released his grip on your thighs to shuffle down his slacks enough to spring his length free without him having to stop devouring you. 

Licking your palm, you stroked him as best you could from the angle you were in causing his moans to vibrate through your core. 

“Y-yes, D-Daddy—fuck—don’t stop.”

His hips rutted up into your fist as his face pressed further inside of you. As the coil began to wind, your hands flew forward to pull on hair as your hips grinded against his lips. His long, muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to him as your body trembled and you came. 

“Fuck…good girl, baby. Coming hard like that.” 

You twitched on top of him as he placed tender pecks against your nub, carefully licking at your arousal as he continued to taste you. 

When you finally let you go, you glided down his frame and pressed your lips to his. 

“Fuck me…please…I need to feel you inside me.”

“Keep begging me like that, baby. I kind of like it.”

You both whimpered as your grinded your dripping pussy lips along his now extremely hard and leaking cock.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I need you to make me cum again with your dick. Please…”

Abruptly, he flipped you on to your back and lifted one of your legs over his shoulders. You whined as he continued to tease you, dragging his mushroom tip over your clit.

“You need Daddy’s cock, baby?” When you only nod, he abruptly leans forward and wraps his massive palm around your throat. His eyes continuously scan your face, fearing he may have taken it too far but when you moan and bite your bottom lip, it takes every fiber of his being to remain in control and not just cum right now. “Say it, honey.”

“I need your cock, Daddy. Please. I need you to stretch me open. Please—ahh my god…”

As you were talking, Steve gradually guided himself into your core, grunting at the feeling as your cunt clung to him and pulled him in. With a vigor you had never seen before, he roughly dropped your legs and wrapped them both around his waist as his entire body fell against you and he slammed his hips into yours.

Your fingers raked through his hair and down his back as he hid his face to the side of your own, whispering and groaning in your ear as his cock punched into every sensitive spot inside of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N…your so fucking warm and wet…just leaking all over Daddy’s cock, baby. Yeah? That it? Is that the right spot? Mmm—Jesus—I love the sounds you make. You’re mine, honey. No one can take my cock like you can. No one feels as good as you do. I love you so much. Fuck…”

Your eyes rolled back as your pussy began clenching around him. Steve knew…he knew your body like one else, pushing up on his hands as he watched your face, pounding his hips into yours as he watched you come undone. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum all over Daddy’s cock.” His lips quickly cut off your scream as came hard underneath him, swallowing your moan as he thrust into you faster trying to make your orgasm last. “I know, baby. I know. I know. It feels so fucking good. You’re doing so well.”

“C-cum, Daddy.”, you whimper as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. “Please. I need to feel you cum inside of me.” Steve’s forehead fell on yours as he chased his high, his heavy breathes fanning your face. “Look at me, Daddy. I want to watch your face as you cum.”

As your fingers reached to pull his hair, his hands gripped your wrists and held them against the mattress as he did what you asked. His beautiful brown eyes were incredibly glassy with want but you saw something else that made you breathily chuckle. 

“Steve…you…I can’t cum again, baby.”

He smirked as if to say he accepted the challenge, his gaze never leaving yours as he thrust into you so hard the bed shook. You pushed against his grip but he knew you weren’t trying to escape or in pain. You desperately wanted to touch him like you always did. Your cunt gripped him again and he grunted at the feeling as his smile grew.

“Keep your eyes on, Daddy, baby.”

As his face began to contort with pleasure, it was enough to push you one final time as you repeatedly moaned his name as you came. After getting what he craved, his eyes flicked to yours before squeezing shut and with a few more sloppy thrusts he released ropes of his seed deep inside of you. 

Steve’s body collapsed on yours and your arms promptly wrapped around him as he released you from his hold. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep but when he woke up again, you were steadily breathing as your fingers played with his hair and your lips occasionally kissed his forehead. 

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s ok, old man.”, you giggle as he leaned up on his elbows to kiss your nose and move some of your damp hair out of your face. “You only slept for 20minutes. Now normally I wouldn’t complain but can you pull out please, Daddy.”

He chuckles to himself as he lifts his hips, mumbling apologies as your face scrunches in pain. 

“That wasn’t…I wasn’t too rough right?”

“No, baby. I’m just sore.” Your fingers reach up gently caress his cheek. “I like it though…feeling you through out my day.” Steve grins as he rests his chin on your tummy, looking up at you with nothing but admiration. “You could have told me, you know? About the Daddy thing.”

“I know. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want you think I was a pervert or something.”

“Well, you’ve always been a pervert but not because of this.”, you laugh when he jokingly rolls his eyes. “Do…do you want me to incorporate it? I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ. How did I get so lucky to marry the coolest fucking woman?” He grins as he watches you blush. “No, we don’t have to do it every time. I like hearing you whimper my name.”

“Same. With the rough stuff, I mean. I’m definitely down for more roleplay, Mr. Harrington.”

“Speaking of you looked really beautiful in that dress. If I had known I would have bought a nicer suit or something. That was just my work outfit.”

“I still think you looked handsome.”

When you sigh, he climbs up the bed and lays on his back, yanking you to his side as he holds you tightly. 

“What are you thinking about now?”

You beam up at him as you tenderly kiss his lips before laying your head on his chest. 

“How lucky I am that I met you.”

####### Date Night Series

[nightwings-robin]

Some of y'all act like Tim hated Jason when Tim was Robin and Jason was still dead but I disagree.

Not a lot of people do this but I've seen it enough times that it's gotten to bother me a little bit.

Let's take a look at some early Tim opinions on Jason.

Detective Comics (1937) #618

"Just a boy like me... One day I'll be as good as Jason."

This issue came out in 1990, so it's rather soon after Jason died and Tim was introduced (which happened in 1988 and 1989 respectfully). This is what Tim thinks about Jason very early one. This doesn't read as even remotely like hatred to me.

But wait, there's more!

The very next issue shows Tim having sympathy for Jason.

Detective Comics (1937) #619

Tim is noting the similarities between Dick, Jason, and himself. This issue is in the same arc when Tim's parents get kidnapped and his mom is killed. He has sympathy for Dick AND Jason, who both lost their parents. Tim is faced with the same pain and it shows his compassion for Jason.

Now this isn't to say that Tim was unaware of some of Jason's problems and maybe did blame him for his own death a bit, as shown with this panel:

Batman (1940) #455

Tim knew that Jason had times of anger and says he won't let that happen to himself. I don't think Tim is being quite fair here in claiming that he won't let his anger get the better of him like Jason's did, but Tim is hardly the only character to think this way about Jason and, again, this doesn't read as hatred to me. If anything, to me this reads as a character with preconceived notions about how another person died and not wanting to make the same preconceived mistakes as that person.

Is he being a bit harsh and 'holier-than-thou' here? Yes. Do I think this is hatred or some other malicious view of Jason? No.

There is also that time Tim hallucinated Dick and Jason, and they gave a sort of "pep-talk" to him about being Robin.

Batman (1940) #456

These are Tim's own thoughts manifesting through Dick and Jason. I do dislike that he imagines Jason blaming himself for his own death but think about why Tim would think this about Jason. Tim never met Jason. Wasn't there when he died. He only knows what he read and what he was told about Jason from other people. People like Bruce, Dick, and Alfred. And while those three loved and cared for Jason, they also unfortunately reinforced the belief that Jason was responsible for the Joker murdering him. It's not great but it does stand to reason that Tim would think this about Jason.

But it's not all bad stuff. Tim imagines Jason cheering him on alongside Dick:

Batman (1940) #456

Tim imagines not just Dick but also Jason telling him he can do it. That he can figure it out and be a good Robin. I feel like if Tim really did hate Jason, he wouldn't imagine Jason rooting for him.

Tim goes on to imagine Dick and Jason later helping him out with a fight:

Batman (1940) #457

Again, Tim imagines both Dick AND Jason encouraging him during a battle. He imagines that they both want him to succeed as a hero. Why would Tim want Jason's approval if he dislikes Jason? Because he doesn't dislike Jason. Tim respects him enough as Robin to think that he wants Jason's encouragement.

and then at the end when he officially becomes Robin:

Batman (1940) #457

"Dick made it a symbol... Jason gave his life for it. Failing them... what they fought so hard to build... worries me."

Tim sees being Robin as not just carrying on Dick's legacy, but also Jason's. He wants to live up to Jason just as much as he wants to live up to Dick. He wants to be a Robin that both of them can be proud of.

Like none of this says to me that Tim hated Jason. Did he look up to and idolize Jason the way he did with Dick? No, but that also doesn't mean that Tim hated him.

I get the feeling that Tim viewed Jason's death as a tragedy but since they never met, he didn't have any personal feelings about him, only wanting to live up to the Robin name that Jason left behind.

Now I DO think that Tim did eventually end up hating Jason after Jason came back and tried to kill Tim and others multiple times but this post is specifically referring to the time before Jason returned from the grave.

And I guess I should make it clear that I've not read every single comic issue of Tim Drake ever so maybe there are moments that refute my claim that I just don't know about. I'm simply going off of issues that I have read and I've only read Tim's very early days as Robin.

Feel free to disagree and add on if you want.

[boxwinebaddie]

do they like musicals?

ohhhhh my god....listen i wanna say no so bad but....HDKSHLHD i can't it's not true.....RIP

like i just know stan was in choir all four years and the things that Does to your brain chemistry....oooooof. like i just KNOW he was annoying. i know during christmas him and the first soprano girls were trying to hit that mariah carey whistle tone note in all i want for christmas is you there are tears in my fucking eyes smh smh smh

also canonically in pep bebe and stan were leads in the *high school musical vc* ~spring musicale~

( yes it was guys and dolls idk why i chose guys and dolls i just thought it would be hella funny if i made bebe a biblethumper and stan a cool gangster i know kyle was in the audience crying and throwing up literally the whole time...bebe and stan were also crying and throwing up they hate eachother so much....

....but ACTUALLY!!!!!! like when they had to actually kiss on opening night and the scene ended they both ran off stage rETCHING like LOUD GAGGING SOUNDS SCREAMING CRYING!!!!! ALL DRAMATIC LIKE EWEWEWEWEW EW EW EW E WKILLMEKILLMEKILLEME I HOPE I DIE THAT WAS SO DISGUSTING THAT WAS TORTURE WE ARE IN HELL HELL IS A PLACE WE LIVE EW HLKHSDLDKHSDSLH AND THEY HAD TO DO THAT FOR TWO MORE NIGHTS!!! JAIL FOREVER!!!!!! its so funny to me that bebe and stan are literally the most beautiful and popular kids at sp high and like several people would die to kiss them and they are like i would rather end it all fr....not even enemies to lovers its just ON SIGHT!!!!! help help help

also i do think i am hilarious for making bebe a raven bias in RM...lets see how long that lasts askhdksahd )

also...how do you think stan passed us history....? by studying? with knowledge? HELL NO BABY!!!!!!! that man memorized all of hamilton I WILL NOT BE TAKING CRITICISM AT THIS TIME!!!!!!!! kyle was so mad i know he was FUMING like stan you cant use a musical as factual evidence and hes like WATCH ME KYLE!!!!

that c-....wow. go stan GO! THATS MY BOOOOOOOOOOY

it really is a mixed bag for kyle who is like ah i get to hear stan sing but the con is he is so FUCKING annoying shsjdajdlsl like actually their entire friendship and relationship is like wow stan is so pre--PRETTY FUCKING ANNOYING HO-LY SHIT NEVERMIND DAMN

also the gag of rm is that kyle is basically trapped in a muscial like everyone is singing and dancing and he is like please get me the hell out of here what the fuck is happening

also pep!kyle totally gets dragged to musicals by stan and is like that was actually hell on earth i would rather shove glass in my ears then ever do that again you are so sick and twisted for that...

AND THEN STAN CATCHES HIM SINGING????????? HUMMING THAT SHIT!!!!! BUSTED BITCH!!!!!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT HIIIIIIIIM!!!!!

...tbh i think kyle is secretly extremely invested in the story aspects and actually thinks a lot of the musical scores are v beautiful so...

sigh....

with a heavy heart i must confirm...

they are musical boyfriends.

actually horrifying.

-uncle nina who is not a proud father atm

P.S. wait i had a thought askhdlksadh

in rm its.....flip flopped

u know wht i think rm kyle actually does like musicals because they are tasteful and definitely cries help askhdlksad

and ravenstan definitely does not like....if u held him at gunpoint he would shoot himself...several times to make sure he was really dead

its not even like he secretly thinks he is good he would actually rather be dead he actually will set the time machine back and sit in that burning house with shelley smh its too cringe for him

ok now im actually done thank u for coming to my ted talk <3

[a-spawn-on-my-lawn]

I need to talk about how strong Astarion i think really is. Wall of text under the cut~

While this man is going on about his daily business of shit, pure shit, he is abducted by a giant nautiloid, gets stuffed in a coffin for the 2nd time in his life but this time, a tentacle monster inserts a worm into his eye. he falls out of the thing and figures he can stand in broad sunlight, like wtf, this might be more than enough to drive a grown man very anxious when you ask me.

but he adapts to the situation within seconds. he waits for tav at the shore and gets along with them. he makes up his nice simple plan just as they go. he just goes with the flow. he's there chillin' in camp and reads his books, gets drunk on bears and enjoys his new freedom. he tries to improvise on his own plan on how to kill his very master. just the fact he believes he can do it is so massive to me. he truly believes he can do it. he is never fatalistic. surely, there is angst, but he never has serious mental breakdowns. he never claims that he believes cazador will get him and kill everyone; not even the gur in the swamp is able to unsettle him.

he doesn't give up

i write from a perspective of someone with quite heavy (c)ptsd symptoms so I know how I react to stressful situations and calling Astarion's situation "stressful" is a massive unterstatement, lol. i bow to astarion. he could easily just sit down, empty 50 bottles of wine and tell tav how everything's hopeless, how cazador is surely going to rob him of his freedom again or he becomes an illithid before that; he could even go further than that, if you know what i mean. he could give up on his life and ask tav to just end it all with a stake after going through what he went through, but nope. this man always has hope, he gets up his juicy vampire ass every single morning even though he has two massive burdens to deal with (cazador + tadpole). he never lets himself down. this lil vampire is a hero.

in the dynamic of astarion and my tav, he is the one with more resiliance. i do not perceive astarion as someone who is always in need. surely, there are times where he needs a good cuddle or support when having a nightmare, a bad day, triggers, or help in healing in terms of his sex life etc. but generally, this man is like cryptonite. probably because he knows how to deal with all kinds of pure shit, he's more resilient than my tav. like he got her back. he gives her some good pep talks. sassy astarion kinda pep talks, in a way he doesn't sugarcoat anything and playfully insults her a dozen times and tell her to get back on her feet, but they do the job. he drags her out into the sun if she doesn't want to leave the bed. he'd carry her infront of him like a wet cat if necessary. yep, that's how it is for me.

[clarks-letterman]

could you do a wally clark nsfw list? its alright if not, thank you!

i can and will deliver! … i wasn’t sure if you wanted abc’s or headcanons, so i just went with the latter with some alive and ghost headcanons😅

Forgive me if these are bad—never done ‘em before! Kinda short since I didn’t want to go overboard,

Warning(s) — nsfw, mentions of sex

Friendly Competition

Wally likes to let little things start big moments. He’s a casual and very confident speaker, so he’s always dropping comments in the hallway as he passes his partner. He let them fly more freely as a ghost, when other’s couldn’t hear him, but he likes to let it build up until his partner—or him, he’s only ex-human—caves and makes a move.

It’s usually how you end up in positions such as on each other’s laps, doing the face-off or stairway to Heaven on the stadium bleachers. He likes ways to compete, even during sex.

L isn’t just for Love, it’s for dat third leg!

Figured I may as well include his general size on here. He’s thick and long enough to make it hurt in all the right ways, and reach where it needs to without straying too far into place it doesn’t belong.

A reluctant player, but a great coach.

Regardless, no matter the pain, he isn’t pulling out. He may not have loved football, but a winner doesn’t stop at the half-point line, they take it to the end-zone. Or, in this case, it would be the based of his dick. But that’s when it comes to his pep-talks. “You’re gonna take it, like a good one.”

There isn’t just people to kill at Split River High.

There’s time, too. Lots and lots of time. Being as multi-faceted as he is in the afterlife, Wally takes his time to explore and try out ideas to his fullest extent. From positions to kinks, he’s done it all with you. Cowgirl/boy, the captain, doggy style, and the previously named ones as well. He’s also tried foodplay in the kitchen, many things in the gym—including bondage with the climbing ropes, different sports-related role plays, impact play with his hands and sports equipment, and many, many more things, dress-up, and countless things in the many rooms around the school. He has an unabashed eagerness to figure out what he likes in bed just as much as in his death. Not only that, but the list of places he’s taken someone to cloud nine and back would be so long, that every notebook in the school couldn’t name them all. He looks forward to figuring out more about himself, his partner, and the many things they can do together.

[narrynukezankielover]

If you are a Sam or Jared fan don’t read this. The beginning of season 7 (im on ep 8) is extremely hard to watch. I’ve read people saying that when Cas dies Dean gets depressed and suicidal but I wasn’t prepared for how bad it gets. I thought he just went into certain situations before thinking about it or something but the fact he’s drinking way more then he usually does, he had to give himself a pep talk to go home with a girl (clearly he didn’t want to do it he just thought it’s what he does so he had to do it but I’m glad he didn’t since he’s not in a good place) haveing nightmares and not reacting to certain things the way he normally would is bad enough but then telling Bobby that if he is dead he was going to put him and Sam in the car and drive into the water (can’t remember his exact words and considering I bawled when I heard it I’m not going back to find out his exact words) but then when he seen that Bobby was alive he wasn’t even overly happy he just said “oh you’re alive” and then he was just going to let the god guy kill him without even trying to help Sam come up with a way to stop him is just heartbreaking. They try to say it’s a combination of Cas dying, Sam’s hallucinations and killing misses but he has done stuff behind Sams back before so killing her wouldn’t cause that much guilt on him. He has dealt with Sam not haveing a soul which he said just creeped him out and Sam being addicted to demon blood and that didn’t effect him so I don’t think he’d get that depressed over Sam hallucinating the only new thing is Cas being dead. After the end of season 6 it makes a lot of sense for him to act that way now.

I hate that the show makes Dean seem like the asshole self centred one but it’s Sam who’s those things. Dean is always looking out for Sam (and now Cas), protecting Sam and now even though he’s going through so much he’s still worried about Sam and asking him how he’s doing. Sam is watching Dean go through one of the hardest times in his life and yet the only time so far he asks Dean how he is it’s about the friend of his Dean killed. Seriously? He was standing right next to Dean when Cas trench coat washed up and yet Sam never said a thing about the whole thing to Dean. I actually really hate Sam for this.

Now that I know a bit more about season 7 then I originally did (Misha being fired) I now see the scene of Cas trench coat a bit differently and in fact I see a bunch of scenes a bit differently. I now see that first scene as more the actors real feelings. Dean is so upset because Jensen is upset of Misha not going to be around anymore and Sam basically not caring (he literally just stood there and didn’t have any reaction to what happened) because Jared probably wasn’t overly upset about Misha. I’m not saying they’re not friends but they are definitely not as close as Misha and Jensen and he was probably happy that the spotlight would be back on him again instead of Destiel. I think this is also shown in the other eps. I understand Sam is going through his own stuff but if Cas and him were friends I would think he would at least be sad that Cas is dead.

[incorrect-riordanverse]

finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY