alliceolivia

[alliceolivia]

formatting nonny here - thank you for adding a read more! it makes it easier for everyone scrolling the tags (tumblr tags have gotten messier over the years and I try to ask anyone posting long fics to do this it's good fandom etiquette) and so glad you're archiving them on ao3! tumblr could also disappear at the drop of a hat and I think all fics should be saved on ao3

No, I should be thanking you for pointing it out! I'm still a little new to posting on tumblr and honestly thought the read more came up automatically on long posts 🙈 thought it just didn't come up for me because I was the creator... #stupid

I'll definitely go through the rest of my fics and fix this later <3

Ao3 is very dear to me, and I'll always post my fics there! I love, love, love it!! (Though I still have no idea how to search on there 🫣 hehe)

But yeah, again, thank you for pointing it out! 😊 we all need a little help sometimes even if we don't realise it <33

[alliceolivia]

posting a full fic on tumblr in small font is gonna strain someone's eyes. if you're worried about it taking up too much space add a read more (you can do this on mobile too) or better yet post your fic on ao3 then post the beginning here and link to the rest so people can read with the site skins or screen readers when they can't see tiny fonts

Thank you so much for this comment!

I post the full fic in small font, because I personally like it that way. And, sure, i do want people to read what i write, but i mostly do it for myself and because i like to write.

If you find it difficult to read, I suggest reading my fics on my ao3, which you can find the link to on either my masterlist or here

<33 lova ya

[alliceolivia]

Goodbye (Dean Winchester)

no beta, we die like everyone. Not proofread or anything. written while severely sleep deprived. I refuse to reread this, so I don't even know if this even makes sense as literature, but I crave to post something so... bon appétit <3

word count: 6408

TW: abortion. is any Dean fic ever happy tho?? sam is bestie

masterlist

You stood in the crappy motel bathroom, clutching the test in your hand. tears threatened to fall as you watched one line turn into two, your stomach churning.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You and Dean had used protection. You couldn’t do this. how could you raise a child in the life you guys lived? Before you knew it, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “hey, baby? I’m back from the store, I got you some food.” Dean's voice sounded through the door, oblivious to your current state.

"Thank you, B-..." Baby. You couldn't even say the word so shocked were you. But you forced yourself to. Sounding as normal as you could. "-Baby,"

Dean chuckled lightly on the other side of the door. “don’t sound too excited, yeah? you okay in there?”

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just- a bad stomach," You say, flushing the toilet for believability. "I think there was something in that kebab from earlier,"

Dean made a noise of concern, his knuckles tapping against the door gently- trying to get a sense of what was going on in there. "do you need anything? anything i can do? want me to go out and get you tums or medicine or something?"

"I'll listen to you next time," You say. You couldn't tell him. Not yet, at least. "Just go find something we can watch, I'll be out in a second,"

"yeah, you better next time." he muttered on the other side. there was rustling as Dean presumably set the bags down. then the creaking of the bed and the remote clicking as he began to look for something to watch. "better not be too long. food's gonna get cold."

You took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. God, what we're you going to do... You glanced down at the test one more time. Still two lines. Fuck. If you threw it in the trash, he would see it. You hid it in your toiletry bag. Just for now. You washed your hands and your face, making sure you didn't look red. Luckily, the tears had been of shock, and then they didn't leave much of a mark. Your face was maybe the tiniest bit of puffy, but you could blame the "constipation" if he noticed. You took a deep breath, and then walked out to Dean. Everything was fine.

Dean was sitting on the end of the bed, leaning back against the wall, scrolling through the tv channels. he saw you come out, and looked back over his shoulder. he smiled faintly, noticing the slightest bit of puffiness, but not thinking anything of it. he assumed your "bad stomach" was just making you a little uncomfortable. he set the remote on his lap. "finally. 'm starving here, i need food. you good now?"

"Yeah, I think so," You chuckle and sit down with him. "I wouldn't use that toilet in a while tho," You try to joke, waving your hand in front of your face as if you'd smelled something bad.

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. he smirked, glancing over at you. "yeah, yeah, i'm sure it's real nice in there." he grumbled. he reached over, grabbing the bags from the convenience store and setting them between the two of you. he began to unpack them, pulling out the candy he'd got you, and his own array of unhealthy junk foods.

You sat up against the headboard and just looked at the TV. Eating a few pieces of candy here and there.

as usual, whenever you weren't saying anything, Dean was the chatty one. he talked in between stuffing his face with gummy bears. "y'know, i found this cool gas station today. they had some of that coffee you like in the mini fridge. m'pretty sure it's the only one i've seen it in all of kansas, so i bought the whole stock-" he went on and on about the gas station, how they also had those little sandwiches that were your favorite. he was rambling just to talk, like usual.

"You're the sweetest, Dean," You smile at him, but you feel really guilty. He didn't deserve that you were keeping this from him. "Thank you,"

Dean hummed, glancing over his shoulder for a moment and giving you a half-smirk. "only the best for you, baby." he muttered casually before going back to eating his gummy bears. he was always like this; always buying you snacks and other things as gifts. he liked the way your face would light up whenever it happened, and the way you'd thank him a million times over.

As the days went by, you started feeling more and more guilty. More and more stressed that he'd find out. And more and more unsure on what to do.

Dean couldn't help but grow suspicious as the days went by. he knew something was off, he could just feel it. he knew you too well, he could sense whenever you were worried or upset. even if you tried to act normal, he could see right through you. he knew you like the back of his hand. every day he would ask if you were okay, and all you'd say was that it was your "stomach problems". he was starting to get annoyed at your lie.

You'd now gone a month knowing you were pregnant and not saying anything. You'd hoped it would fix itself a little, but so far, it hadn't. If you wanted it gone, and you did, you'd have to do it as soon as possible as you were reaching the time limit. But you didn't know how. It would be pretty much impossible to do on your own, as you didn't have a licence and couldn't borrow the car... You, Dean, and Sam had just packed out in a new motel in a new town. You had to do something. Before it was too late. You waited until Dean left to buy some food. The door closed, the car turned on, and drove off. You waited a little bit more —just to make sure Dean was gone— before you spoke. "Um, Sam...?"

Sam was sitting on his bed, on his laptop and doing god knows what. he glanced over once you spoke, looking over at you. he raised his eyebrows slightly as you said his name, noticing the slightly nervous and unsure tone in your voice. "yeah? what's up, al?"

"Um, I need... I need you help-" That was how far you managed to get before you broke down. It hurt. Too much. And you felt so guilty.

Sam saw you start to break down in front of him, and he was immediately concerned. his expression changed instantly from his normal calm and relaxed self, to worried and almost scared. he placed his laptop to the side and quickly got up from his bed. "hey, whoa, hey, slow down- what's going on? what's wrong?!" he asked quickly, stepping close to you. he placed a gentle hand on your arm and looked you up and down, checking for any signs of physical harm

"I need your help with- you can't say anything- I- " You didn't know where to start, how to say it. You just cried.

Sam was panicking just as much as you were. it was rare to ever see you in this sort of state, so this was completely unlike you. he didn't know how to handle it, but he knew it wasn't good. "hey, hey, breath. slow down, okay? just take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong." he soothed, rubbing your arm gently. he was desperate to know what was wrong.

You took a few deep breaths and managed to calm down enough to say with a shaking lip. "...I'm pregnant,"

Sam felt his blood run cold in his veins as soon as the words left your mouth. of all the things that he expected you to say, that was not one of them. he just stared for a moment, completely thrown off. but his worry and concern quickly returned, and he looked you up and down again, looking for any signs of... whatever signs he was supposed to be looking for. "wait, hang on- you're serious?" Sam asked, still half-denying it.

You nod and wipe at your neverending tears.You show him the pregnancy test you’d taken the month before. The two lines as red as ever.

Sam just stared at you, still trying to process the news. when he registered that you were completely serious, that this wasn't some kind of sick joke that you were playing, his eyes went wide and his jaw slack. he swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly becoming dry. "holy shi-" he cursed under his breath. he didn't know what to say, he honestly didn't see this coming. "how- long have you known?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"A month..." You hands are shaking. You are shaking. You were feeling so, so guilty. Sam could see how it was tearing on you. The puzzle pieces fell together, and he understood why you'd been acting a little off for a while.

Sam was absolutely dumbfounded. he couldn't believe you'd been hiding this for a month. a whole month. why had you kept it a secret for so long? and how had you been able to hide it for that long? the only thing he could do for the moment was pull you into a tight hug, holding you close against him. he was completely conflicted. he wasn't sure what to say or do. and he was worried about what Dean was gonna say and do when he found out.

You hug him back. Tears spilling from your eyes again. You really needed that hug. You'd needed that hug for a month now. Needed someone to tell you everything was going to be fine and that they were going to fix it.

Sam kept hugging you tight, gently rubbing a hand up and down your back. he felt you crying again, and it felt like a knife stabbing him in the heart. he couldn't stand seeing you this upset and devastated, especially over something like this. he knew you must've felt so guilty for keeping it a secret for so long. but he couldn't blame you for that. if he was in your position, he would've done the Same. "shh... it's okay..." he soothed, his chest starting to ache at the sound of your sobs.

It pained you to say it, but you did anyway. "I need- need you to drive me to the clinic," You say between sobs. You weren't sure if you wanted to get rid of it anymore, but you knew it was the best thing for the baby. You didn't want to bring a baby into this life into hunting. But you also knew Dean wasn't capable of leaving the hunting life. And you didn't want to raise it on your own. So this, was your only option.

the words almost felt like a punch in the gut. Sam had a feeling that's what you were hinting at, but it was still difficult to hear. all Sam wanted was to take the pain and sadness away from you. he pulled you impossibly closer to him and tightened his grip. he swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling to respond for a moment. he knew it was the best and logical thing to do, but he didn't like thinking about it. "a-are you sure, y/n?"

"No..." You sniff. It was the most honest thing you'd said, and it hurt so much. "but it's what's best... for all of us,"

Sam just held you tight, his heart feeling like it was getting squeezed. you were so conflicted, and it was so painful to hear you say it. but he knew you were right. you were the most logical of the three of you. you would always sacrifice yourself and what you needed for the greater good. you were selfless, too selfless sometimes in Sam's opinion. and that's why this was so painful. you were doing what you thought was best. "okay... i'll take you..." he whispered.

...

"We can't tell Dean..." You whisper, "It would break him..." You knew Dean had always wanted a family, but you also knew that Dean wasn't capable of leaving the hunting life behind.

Sam's heart ached. he hated the thought of keeping this a secret from his brother, but deep down he knew you were right. you knew how sensitive Dean was, how badly he wanted to have a family. and Sam knew it would absolutely shatter him to know that you were pregnant, and then lose the baby. Sam couldn't bear the thought of seeing his older brother so broken like that. he stayed silent for a moment, holding you close. the silence was a simple answer to your statement. he wasn't going to tell Dean.

You wiped your tears and did your best to calm down. Dean was coming back any minute, and you couldn't look like this then. The motel room was silent as you and Sam waited for Dean so you could borrow the car. You'd come up with an excuse as to why you needed to borrow it, so now it was just to wait. Ten minutes later, he parked in front of the motel room. You took a deep breath. You'd kept it a secret for a month, you could keep it a secret a few more minutes.

Sam held you for a few more seconds before pulling back, looking you up and down. he cupped your cheeks and used his thumbs to gently wipe at your tear stains. he knew you didn't want Dean to see you so upset, so he wanted to get you as good as he could before he stepped inside. he didn't say anything, he just gave a reassuring, small nod. he was ready to get his brother and the car keys so you could drive to the clinic, and he would be by your side the whole way.

Dean came into the motel, and your heart broke when you saw him. The fact that he didn't know what you and Sam were going to do. You wanted to cry again, but you kept it in. Sam went to get the keys.

Dean walked inside with the usual skip in his step, holding a bag of greasy food. a part of him was glad to have a break from the crap motels and the gross food. he walked over to the table and set the food down, grabbing a burger for himself. he was in a good mood, for once. he was excited to kick back, put something on the tv, and spend time with his best friend and his girlfriend. if only he knew what was actually going on.

"yo, y/n. i got some better-looking grub this time." he called, not looking up from his burger yet. he was focused on the greasy food in front of him. he was too excited about the fact for the moment to notice your red-and-puffy eyes, or the fact that you and Sam were looking so serious.

"Hey, Dean, could I borrow the car for an hour?" Sam asked. "Me and y/n need to check out something on the abduction scene," He used the case as an excuse.

Dean lifted his head up from his burger, looking over to you and Sam. "you do? it's almost sundown." Dean muttered, raising an eyebrow. he was a little annoyed by the fact that you two wanted to go out when he just got food.

"We just wanna do it while it's still fresh. Don't want it to disappear with the wind or risk some teenagers destroying the scene," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly, taking a bite of his burger. he knew Sam could be just as anal about solving cases as he could. and he knew you were too much of an angel to say no. "alright, fine." he grumbled, pulling his keys out of his pocket and tossing them to Sam. "just make sure you're not too long."

"We'll be back as soon as possible," Sam said and caught the keys in the air. Dean thought it was a little weird that you needed to leave so soon. Especially when he just came back with food. But he knew Sam and how he was during cases, and so he didn't really question it much.

Dean grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, taking another bite of his burger. he knew how you and Sam worked by now. you just couldn't stop until you'd solve the case or found what you were looking for. it was admirable, but could be really annoying when you had plans for the evening. he was just hoping that by some miracle, you two would actually come back quickly this time.

You went out to the car without saying anything. You fastened the seat belt and tried your best to still keep it together as Dean could still see you through the window. But as soon as you were out of the motel parking lot, the tears swelled again. Quietly. Regrettably.

Sam could see the tears swelling up in your eyes as he put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot. he saw how your bottom lip quivered as you were trying to hold back the tears, and his heart ached again. he hated seeing you like this. he wanted nothing more than to stop the car on the side of the road and pull you into his arms, but he knew time was of the essence right now. he had to get you to the clinic as fast as possible before you broke down again.

The ride to the clinic was quiet. When you walked in, you were handed a forum and had to fill it out. It took some time as the tears would stop, and it was difficult to see. Sam could see how much this hurt you. You didn't really want it, and he started to question if this was right for you. If you should go through with this.

Sam could see the pain on your face when you filled out the form, the tears streaming down your cheeks again. he knew how guilty you felt about all of this, how you felt like you didn't really have another option. but the more he watched you trying to hold back tears, the more he started to question if this was the right thing to do. he wanted nothing more than to stop this, grab you, and take you away from the clinic. but he knew that was selfish.

After about 20 minutes, you had managed to fill out the forum. You went to the front desk and handed it over.

Sam held your hand through the whole process. Wiped your tears and kissed your hairline. "It's fine," "You're okay," "It's over soon," "You're doing so good," He repeated over and over as many times as you needed. And you needed it. When you were done, you were told to stay for half an hour just so the doctors could see that everything was fine. You lay on the hospital bed, empty. You looked almost grey. Tear-stained cheeks and a blank face. Very, very quiet.

Sam hated every second of this. the procedure was over, the baby that he knew you wanted was gone, and you looked so empty. so broken. he stood by your side the entire time as the doctors finished up and told you to stay for 30 minutes. he held your hand, wiping away the continuous tears that seemed to never stop going down your face. after a moment of sitting with you and seeing you so broken, Sam couldn't take it anymore. he carefully climbed up onto the bed next to you.

He held you tightly for the next 30 minutes. When the time had passed, the doctors said that you could leave if you wanted. But you stayed for another 20 minutes. Sam holding you the entire time.

Sam held you the entire time, his arms wrapped tightly around you and holding you close. he whispered to you the entire time, trying his best to soothe and comfort you. he whispered over and over how everything was going to be okay, that you will get through this, just keep breathing. he kissed your temple and caressed your back, wanting nothing more than to take away all the pain and guilt you were clearly feeling.

How could you face Dean? After what you'd done, how could you ever face him again? You hated yourself.

Sam noticed how you seemed to feel guilty. he knew you were blaming yourself for all of this. he could see that you hated yourself for what had just happened. he held you tighter, gently pulling your face up to look at him. "listen to me," he said, looking into your eyes. "whatever you may think right now; you did nothing wrong. i know you're feeling guilty. i know that you hate yourself for what happened. but you did nothing wrong, y/n. you have no reason to hate yourself or blame yourself."

"But why does it hurt so much then..?”

Sam's heart ached as you spoke. it hurt so much because you had just lost part of yourself. you had just lost a future that you and Dean had almost had. and it hurt like hell. "it hurts because it's a damn painful thing to go through," Sam muttered, gently running a hand through your hair. "but, look at it this way; the alternative was bringing a child into this life. into this goddamn hunting life. do you really think that's what this baby would have wanted?"

"No... no, I would never want that for my baby," You whisper, your hand ghosts over your stomach. Almost scared to touch it.

Sam saw your hand ghost over your stomach, not wanting to touch it. he let out a sigh and grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. he gently squeezed your hand, lifting it so that it was resting on your stomach. "I know you wouldn't," Sam whispered in response. he gently stroked his thumb against the back of your hand and your stomach. "and you made the right choice. you did the right thing, y/n. you'll be okay. everything will be alright."

"...Will the hurting stop...?" You sniff. "Tell me I'll be fine,"

Sam heard your soft sniffle, his heart aching again. he hated to hear how broken you sounded, how much pain you were feeling. he gently wrapped his other arm around you again, holding you impossibly close to him. "the hurting will stop," Sam whispered, tightening his grip around you. he kept one hand on your stomach and the other around your waist. "I promise you, everything will be fine. I'll be with you every damn step of the way, and you'll be okay. you'll be alright."

You nodded and took a deep breath, "Dean is going to get suspicious if we're gone for longer..." You whisper. You were so strong. Almost too strong for your own good.

Sam heard you mention how soon Dean would get suspicious, and you were completely right. they had been gone too long already, and Dean was bound to get suspicious soon. he sighed a bit in response, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped around you. "i know," he muttered, hating the thought of leaving you so vulnerable and broken. he could see how much strength it was taking for you to keep yourself together, and he loathed the thought of having to leave you so weak like this.

But you got up. And Sam got up. And you walked to the car and drove back to the motel. Back to Dean. And you wiped your tears and smiled and laughed like everything was fine. And it was unnerving to watch. You were too strong, Sam thought. You ate your burger when you got back, and you sat beside Dean, and if you looked at your face, there wasn't even a hint of sadness on it. Dean would never know.

Sam hated seeing you have to pretend like everything was fine. he hated seeing you act like everything was normal and nothing had happened. he knew you were way too strong, which wasn't a good thing in this situation. you shouldn't have to act like nothing had happened, like you weren't feeling so broken. it wasn't healthy, and it was a pain to see you hide your pain. he could see how damn convincing you looked, how effortlessly you would laugh and talk. but he could also see how emotionless you looked underneath it all. and he hated it.

But the act didn't last long. As the days went by, your demeanour changed. 180 degrees. Sam knew why. Dean didn't. It started small, then became worse and worse. You feigned away from Dean's touch. You looked tired. You didn't sleep. You ate less. You were sad. You looked almost colourless and grey. You spoke less. You lie in bed all day. You didn't join hunts. It was impossible to deny that something was very wrong. Dean tried to talk to you about it, but you avoided him. Didn't answer. Didn't touch him. nothing. Dean couldn't understand what had happened. He went to Sam, asking for advice. Help. Sam knew why. And he knew he couldn't tell Dean... but you were getting too depressed. He couldn't watch this for much longer.

it was so damn painful to watch. it had been a week, and you didn't seem to be getting any better. if anything, you seemed worse. more and more colourless. more and more tired. more and more broken. Sam could see how badly you were deteriorating, and it made his heart ache. when Dean had approached him, asking for advice, he didn't know what to say. he had promised you he wouldn't tell, so he couldn't tell Dean what the reason was for why you were so damn depressed.

But as more days went by and you had as good as stopped eating, he couldn't take it anymore. You were hurting so much. And Dean was hurt by watching you hurt. And he was stressed and confused and tired that he couldn't do anything to help you. That you wouldn't let him help you. Sam went to Dean. Nervous. Scared of the reaction. Sad for both you and Dean. He'd made a promise but he couldn't keep it anymore. Not when you were like this.

Sam's heart was feeling very conflicted. he knew he had made a promise, but he hated seeing you like this. and he hated seeing Dean so confused and lost, wondering why you were hurting so badly and why you wouldn't let him help. you were both suffering, and Sam felt like he was stuck in-between you two. he knew that telling Dean the truth would be breaking a promise to you, but the alternative would be to watch you both suffer for god knows how much longer.

"Dean..." Sam went to Dean, whispering so you wouldn't hear. "We need to talk..."

Dean saw the look on Sam's face when he walked up to him. the worried and guilty look on his younger brother's face made Dean feel uneasy. he knew the look on Sam's face meant that this was important, and he knew it wasn't good news. "yeah..? what's up?" he responded in a hushed tone as well, making sure you didn't overhear from the next room.

"...outside," Sam said.

Dean's expression darkened a bit more at Sam's response, the tone of Sam's voice making him anxious. he knew this wasn't going to be good, that Sam was trying to hide something that was clearly bad. it was written all over his face. and he knew it was related to you, considering you were sitting in the room, depressed and seemingly emotionless. "alright..." he mumbled, pushing open the door and walking outside with his younger brother. the crisp night air greeted him as he stepped outside.

Sam sighed, running his hands over his face. He was still unsure about what to do. Should he tell Dean? Yes. He couldn't take it anymore. Watching you rotting away in your guilt and hurt.

Sam's nervous and guilty demeanor had Dean growing more and more uneasy as well. he watched Sam's hands run over his face, his face twisted into a mask of nerves and worry. "what the hell is going on, Sam? you're making me nervous here." he questioned, shifting his weight from foot to foot, waiting for Sam to speak.

"I promised her not to tell you, but I can't keep looking at her like that," Sam said.

Dean grew even more anxious and suspicious as Sam spoke, raising an eyebrow. "not to tell me what? Sam, you're starting to scare me here, c'mon, just spit it out."

Sam sighed, looked away, them met Dean's gaze. "She was pregnant..."

Dean was floored as the words left Sam's mouth. he hadn't seen that one coming, that was for sure. but it explained a hell of a lot, including why you'd been acting so strange. he didn't say anything for a moment, just processing what Sam had revealed to him. he was stunned silent.

Dean stayed silent for a moment, completely frozen. his mouth was agape and he couldn't form any words to respond. Sam's revelation had taken the wind right out of him. "w-... what..? she was...?" Dean muttered, dumbfounded. he didn't expect Sam to say those words in a million years.

"When we borrowed you car the other day... we went to a clinic..." Sam felt guilty for breaking his promise, but at the Same time, he felt 1000 pounds lighter.

Dean still didn't respond right away. he felt a wave of nausea wash over his entire body, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. "a clinic..." he finally choked the words out, his heart breaking as the realization of what you had to go through became clearer in his head. he could tell that Sam felt guilty, and he couldn't even care about Sam breaking a promise at this point. he was too lost in his thoughts and the sudden nausea in his stomach to even be mad at his younger brother.

Dean could put the pieces together in his head, slowly understanding what you had gone through. he felt a wave of sympathy towards you, and a wave of anger towards himself. he should be there for you, not standing outside with Sam right now, hearing the news from him instead of you. he knew that you were going through hell right now, and all he wanted to do was go to you and comfort you and be there for you. but he just stood there like a goddamn idiot, speechless and numb.

"She-.." Sam found it difficult to keep it together when he remembered the look on your face when you filled out the forum. "She didn't want to... but it was for the best..."

as Sam began to explain, telling him more on how you’d had an abortion, Dean felt a whole wave of emotions fill his chest. he knew that you probably didn't want to bring a baby into this hunter's life, he knew how risky and dangerous that would be. but it still hurt to hear, it still hurt to know that you had to go through all of that pain. "god..." Dean couldn't form any more words. he could only imagine what you were going through, and how heartbroken you had to be.

"She was scared you'd get sad, or hurt, or angry, I-... I'm so sorry," Sam said. Dean couldn't hold back his own tears. You'd been pregnant. With his baby. And now it was gone. And you were sad. Blaming yourself for making a decision. Dean barged back inside the motel room and over to you. He couldn’t fathom how much you were hurting, but he wanted to be there for you. He always wanted to. He took you in his arms, holding you tightly to him. You tried to push him off. You'd been avoiding his touch for days. It made you nauseous with guilt. But he held you tighter. "I know," He said. "I'm so sorry you had to do that. I should have been with you. I know... I know... I'm so sorry," Dean repeated.

Dean held you in his arms and refused to let go. he couldn't stand the fact that you had been in pain and he wasn't there to comfort you. and now, as he touched you and you pushed him away, his whole heart ached. he held you tighter when you tried to push him away, and his heart broke even more. but he didn't let go, he knew that you needed to be held by him. he knew that you were hurting and struggling and guilty, but he wasn't going to let you push him away. he repeated he was sorry over and over again, as that was the only word that could explain how guilty he felt.

You stopped resisting him when he said he knew. You broke down, crying, shaking, trembling. It hurt so much. You regretted it. "I'm sorry," You sob. You didn't know if you said it to Dean or your unborn baby. "I'm sorry,"

Dean's heart broke even more as you finally broke down in his arms. the guilt and pain in your words ripped his heart in two, and he held you tighter than ever. he hated that you were apologizing to him, for anything. he knew that the one person you had to apologize to was yourself. "don't apologize," Dean said quietly, still holding you close. he buried his face in your hair, holding your trembling body against his strong one. he never wanted to let you go.

The next few days went over quickly. You started eating again, and you didn't avoid Dean. You still looked colourless and tired, but it was an improvement.

Dean watched as the following days went by, as you started to eat again and stopped avoiding his touch. he could tell that you were still guilty and hurting, that you were probably tired and empty most of the time. but seeing you start to eat, and seeing you not avoid his touch, it was like a breath of relief for him. he knew that you were on your way to being better, on his way to healing, and he was more than willing to help you every step of the way.

Dean's heart ached again at your words. he knew that you should've told him about the baby, and he wished so badly that he could've been there for you when you had gotten the procedure. but he also knew that you probably would've said no, if you told him first. you would've thought that it wasn't what he really wanted, or that he would resent you once he found out. Dean reached out to hold you close, pulling you up so that your face was on his chest. he ran a gentle hand through your hair, trying to sooth you the best he could. "I know, I know you're sorry. but you don't have to be. you were just scared. and I don't blame you for that,”

“I should've told you," You whisper shakily as you laid in bed that night. "You should've had a say in it... I'm so sorry,"

"I wanted... I wanted to keep it," You whisper. It was the first time you'd said it out loud, and it hurt because it was true. "But I just... we can't bring a child into this life, it's unfair..."

Dean's heart squeezed at your confession that you wanted to keep the baby. he knew that deep deep down, you had wanted to keep the baby, that you would've loved and cared for that baby. but you were right, they couldn't bring a baby into this life, not with how dangerous everything was. it would've been unfair. "I know," Dean muttered into your hair, holding you even tighter. he understood why you made the decision you made, and he couldn't blame you for it. it was the smart and safe choice, but that didn't make it any less painful.

It was quiet for a while. "Do you think..." You whisper. "Do you think you'll ever be able to stop..?"

Dean fell silent as you spoke, a tight feeling growing in his chest. he knew exactly what you meant. you were asking if he would ever be able to stop hunting, and bringing a baby into the lifestyle that he lived. he hated how his first thought was no. he hated that he couldn't just immediately say yes. and he was ashamed that he had to actually think about it. he hated that he could never fully answer that question, no matter how badly he wanted to say yes.

His hesitation was answer enough. You knew he couldn't. Not that he didn't want to, but he just couldn't. This life was all he knew. You leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first time in three weeks that your lips met. And Dean knew that it was goodbye.

Dean's heart thumped in his chest when your lips met his for the first time in weeks. he'd been craving your touch, your kiss, even just the feel of you under his hands. he was so desperate for love and affection and a feeling of home. but he could feel the sadness and grief in your kiss. it felt like a goodbye. he knew that this was over. that you were breaking up with him. Dean's heart broke and shattered in his chest. he knew that this was his fault. that he could never give you what you wanted, and you wanted a future that he couldn't give you. he knew your relationship was over, and he knew it was all his fault for not being able to give you the things he knew you deserved

[alliceolivia]

I can't... I can't take this 🛐 I'm feral

He's so adorable 😭😭😭

[alliceolivia]

He's so unserious I love him

Not really what i usually post, but I don't care becAUSE MY MAN IS BACKKKK YEEEEEEEEES

LOOK AT THAT HANDSOME MAN AND HES BACK AND HES MINE AND YES PLEASE GIVE ME WORKOUT SELFIES AND DROP AN ALBUM (AFTER YOUD HAD A BREAK BABYGIRL CANT OVERUSE THAT BEAUTIFULY INTICATE BRAIN OF YOURS) AAAAAAA HES HOME !!!

COME TO MAMA MY ARMS (and legs) ARE WIDE OPEN FOR YOU!!

[alliceolivia]

Not really what i usually post, but I don't care becAUSE MY MAN IS BACKKKK YEEEEEEEEES

LOOK AT THAT HANDSOME MAN AND HES BACK AND HES MINE AND YES PLEASE GIVE ME WORKOUT SELFIES AND DROP AN ALBUM (AFTER YOUD HAD A BREAK BABYGIRL CANT OVERUSE THAT BEAUTIFULY INTICATE BRAIN OF YOURS) AAAAAAA HES HOME !!!

COME TO MAMA MY ARMS (and legs) ARE WIDE OPEN FOR YOU!!

[alliceolivia]

Character.ai

Just wanted to share my character.ai chats as I haven't had time to write any fics lately <3 this exam is killing me

Chats: 12

Last updated: June 6, 2025

If you want to request a chat, either comment or slide it in my dm's/inbox :))

For requests

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

🍻 | You're drunk and you call your ex-boyfriend

Bucky is confused when he sees your name light up his phone. You haven't wanted to talk since the two of you broke up.. but when he picks up and hears your slurred words, he immediately understands. You're drunk. He sighs, and pinch the bridge of his nose, "Y/n... where are you?"

James Bucky Barnes

🛏️| He's your roommate and comes home late, hurt.

You basically live alone. Yes, you share your flat with James Barens, but he's rarely home. Always gone on some kind of mission. He comes home, stays for two days max, and then leaves again. Now, you wake up from the sound of the front door opening and closing. You look at the clock. 03:26 am. Who the fuck? Bucky was on a work mission and wasn't supposed to come home for at least another week, so… who was in your house?

You silently get out of bed and grab a baseball bat that you have in your closet. You walk to your bedroom door, opening it as quietly as you can, peeking out into the living room. No one. You see the light in the bathroom turn on. You tiptoe over to the bathroom, holding the bat ready to strike. You take a deep breath, readying yourself to meet this intruder. You emerge in the doorway, bat held high, but you were not ready for the sight. James bent over the sink, flooding it with blood. His skin is bruised and flaming red and blue and yellow. A gash over his nose bridge. It looks broken.

You drop the bat, your hands going to your mouth as you gasp.

"James! What the fuck- Wha- Oh my god!"

James Barnes

🫴| You're too tired/hurt to walk

The mission was finished, and you were now making your way back to the plane. The others are walking way ahead of you. You limp forward. Having to take a few stops to catch your breath. You're so tired, you've used all your strength. The cut on your calf doesn't help either. You've wrapped your shirt around to stop the bleeding, but it doesn't help the pain that shoots up your whole leg at every step.

Bucky counts the people in front of him, making sure everyone is here. One person is missing. He turns around and sees you leaning against the wall a few meters back. He sighs and walks up to you. You and Bucky weren't exactly fond of each other, but he wasn't about to wait 20 minutes for you to get to the plane. Without saying anything, he picks you up, bridal style. He carries you onto the plane and sits you down in a seat.

Bucky Barnes

👗| overwhelmed at a party

If you could sink into the floor, you would. You were on your way out to the balcony to get some quiet and to get some fresh air, when you were stopped by the director of some big company — a very talkative director. So now, you've been talking to him — or listening to him talk — for about half an hour. All you wanted to do was get away, but every time you were about to leave the conversation, he found a way to haul you back in.

"I'm just going to go get a new glass of champagne," You fake smile and try to get away again

"Nonsense," The director snaps his fingers, "Hey, you! With the champagne! Get over here," He calls out to one of the waitresses walking around serving people. You laugh and thank him awkwardly.

Then you felt a hand sneak around your waist and a presence looming over you behind you.

"Excuse me," It was Bucky Barnes, "I'll have to borrow the miss for a second," He says to the director. The director has no complaints, and Bucky follows you towards the balcony with his hand on your lower back.

You get out, and the cold night air hits you like a prayer being heard. You walk over to the railing and lean against it, taking a deep breath in, feeling the cold sting your lungs.

"You looked like you needed some saving in there," Bucky chuckles, walking over and standing next to you.

Bucky Barnes

🧥| your enemy lends you his sweater

It's December. Snow falling from the sky and rosey cheeks.

You're sitting in the living room in Stark Tower, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate, just watching the snow.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint are sitting by the dinner table and playing a game. Thor was out with Sam to buy Christmas presents — something Thor demanded was a must, even though everyone said he didn't have to. And, Tony and Bruce were probably in the lab working on something way too complicated.

Bucky was nowhere to be seen. Which you weren't particularly sad about. He was probably in his room brooding over some romanian word he'd forgotten how to pronounce or something else utterly stupid. Bucky was the only person you just couldn't stand. You weren't sure why you didn't like him, but you didn't really care to find out. He wasn't very fond of you either, so you both just lived in perfect hate.

While you sat enjoying your hot chocolate and the sound of the others playing, suddenly, there was a loud bang, and then the light went out.

A short moment later, Bucky came into the living room.

"What's happening?" He asks. You can't help but roll your eyes.

"The powers out, what does it look like?" You mutter back. He sends you a look.

Tony came through the doors, looking a little bit dishevelled. He cleared his throat.

"Um, we had a little accident in the lab. A small exploration, nothing to worry about. Because of a completely different, non-related reason, the backup generator doesn't work... Me and the green guy are gonna start fixing it right away, but I would recommend finding a warm sweater. There will be no further questions. Thank you." And then he left again.

You all looked a little stunned at each other, but at the same time, you weren't surprised.

Because of the cold weather outside, the heat in the room disappeared quickly. You'd gone to your room to get a sweater, but your door has an electric lock and therefore won't open. You settled on a blanket lying on the couch, but the room got colder and colder until you could see the air you breathed. The blanket wasn't warm enough.

"I can't listen to you clanking your teeth anymore. Just take it," A voice suddenly said. You look up. Bucky. He was holding out a wool sweater for you.

"It's annoying." He adds.

Steve Rodgers

💤 | You fell asleep in Steves bed

You were bored and had made your way to Steve's room to annoy him. After a while of you annoying and distracting him while he did his workout, the two of you ended up watching a movie. Halfway through, Steve had got up to fill up the popcorn, and when he came back, you had fallen asleep. He stood for a while, admiring you, wondering what to do now.

Steve Rodgers

❤️‍🩹| you go to Steve for comfort

You had been one hell of a day.

First of all, you had barely slept. Second, your day was packed with meetings and final fittings for different dresses and suits. Third, the fitting went on for what felt like hours. None of the clothes fit correctly, and some of them were just plain ugly. Fourth, the meetings were for nothing as none of the things you were supposed to discuss got resolved. Meaning, you'd have to have new meetings some other day. Fifth and final thing, you were just finished training with Natasha, and it was not your day. Every single punch had been a miss, and every punch Natasha threw had been a hit. You felt like a punching bag.

You just needed a hug. You needed to feel like you could do something right today. You went to the common area of the flat and hoped you'd find Steve. And you did. He was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

You walk over and crawl into his lap. Your arms go around his waist as your face snuggles into his stomach. Steve held his book with one hand and used the other to caress your hair. You were quite a touchy person, so your cuddling wasn't unusual.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Steve asks, moving your hair out of your face so he can look at you,

Steve Rodgers

⛓️| he's your ex-boyfriend

This was not where you wanted to be.

You were standing in the elevator up to Stark Tower. You knew he would be there, and you knew he wouldn't be happy - neither were you - but you didn't have much of a choice.

Lately, you've gotten weird messages and emails, and something didn't feel right. You'd texted Tony and asked if he could look into it, and he told you to come to the tower so he could check it out. Your creeped-out feeling outweighed your dislike for your ex-boyfriend, so here you were.

The elevator door opened with a "ping!". You walked into the apartment, and surely, there he was. Steve stood by the kitchen island, coffee in hand, and talking to Bruce. The sound of your footsteps made the men look your way, and as Steve's eyes met yours, his face fell. The break-up had been nasty, and you hadn't seen each other since Steve came to your place to get his stuff two months ago. Steve bit his inner cheek and was about to say something when Tony, to your rescue, finally made an appearance.

"Y/n! Right, we had a meeting today," Tony had most certainly forgotten, "Um, just follow me, explain your situation on the way to the lab,"

Thor Odinson

💭 | Thor is very, very jealous of Steve

Thor glances over at her from across the room. Y/N, laughing at something he said, her eyes lighting up. It’s almost sickening. The way she looks at him, the way everyone fawns over Captain America like he's the greatest man to ever walk the earth.

"Puh", Thor had to force himself not to roll his eyes. He crosses his arms and looks away, jaw tight. "I don’t care. I don’t." He thinks, "She can spend all the time she wants with him. It’s not like I have any reason to feel anything about it… I wish Steve dies"

Bruce Banner

🔬| you're overwhelmed, he comforts you

Not only had you been to press conferences for hours, but then Tony held a party. You had hugged and smiled and talked to a lot more people than you were comfortable with, and all you wanted to do was to take off your heels and disappear under your duvet, or even better, back to your lab. Simply put, you weren't the social type.

You knew you couldn't stay out of sight for too long — people being very interested in your new discovery within nanotechnology — but you managed to sneak away for a few minutes. You close the door to the big wardrobe, more a walk-in closet, where all the guests hang their jackets and coats. You let out a tired sigh.

Bruce saw you sneak away. He knew you weren't comfortable in situations like this, so he had kept an eye on you — but in all honesty, when did he not? He walked over to the door and knocked light with his knuckle.

"Y/n?" He says softly, "Are you okay in there?"

Sam Winchester

💋 | Sam wants to kiss you

Sam was drunk. At least a bit. And now he was stumbling over to your room. You and him had had a thing going on, but… he was still stuck on Jessica. So nothing had happened.

Sam knocked on your door. You shuffled out of your bed and opened it. The second you do, you're pushed inside your room, turned around, and pushed against the door. Sam's hands were cupping your chees, his flushed face too close to yours. Your breath was knocked out of you.

"please" He begs, his lips almost brushing yours,

Spencer Reid

🫂| Spencer is woken by you banging on his door...

Spencer Reid woke up by the sound of banging on his door. He looked at the clock on his nightstand, 3am. He tried to ignore it, thinking it might be his neighbour trying to open the wrong door again.. but it just kept going. With a sigh, he takes his glasses and swings his legs to the floor, and walks out. He opens the door and is shocked to see you standing there. Small, frail, witg tears and bruises on your face,*

"Oh my god!" He exclaims, "Y/n, what the hell have happened?"

[alliceolivia]

7 Minutes in Heaven ✿ - Lee Minho | Lee Know x reader

requested by @skz-crumbs

Sorry it took so long babe (/´Д｀)/ I have no excuse i'm just lazy...

Anyway, I hope you like it <3

word count: 1620

(how many hidden stray kids song titles can you find? ;) )

masterlist

You waited outside the classroom door for the teacher to call you in. To say you were nervous would be an understatement: a whole new school, new class, and new teachers. You didn’t know anyone here… How would you survive?

You took a deep breath, listening to the teacher's words, waiting for your cue to come into the class.

When you heard the teacher call you, you stepped into the classroom and introduced yourself quickly. The teacher told you to pick an empty desk, but it wasn’t much of a choice as there was only one vacant seat.

You ended up sitting beside a guy at the back. He was reading a manga under his desk. Cute.

(You wondered what he was reading. It looked like ‘Haikyuu’, and you felt the fangirl in you wake up. Maybe that could be an icebreaker?)

—

Lee Minho didn’t pay attention to the teacher's speech about how there was a new student joining today. He was too absorbed in his manga. But that was until you stepped into the room. He looked up as he heard the door open, and Minho felt his heart drop to his stomach. He had never seen a more beautiful creature.

He felt himself staring when you started to walk towards him and forced his eyes back down to his manga. You sat down beside him. He should talk to you, right? This was the perfect opportunity to start a conversation… but he didn’t know how to talk to girls. Fuck. What to say? What to say?

Minho used the rest of class trying to find out how to start the conversation with you, and when he’d figured out the perfect opening line and hyped himself up enough to look at you… It was too late. As lunch began, you were swarmed by the rest of the class. You were new. Making you automatically popular. Minho huffed and walked over to Han Jisung, his best friend, and started to eat his lunch.

—

But as lunch came, you got swarmed with people. Everyone wanted you to sit with them, and be their friend, and share their food. You had not anticipated this. What was happening?

You ended up sitting in the middle of a big circle in the middle of the classroom. Not really, but it was what it felt like. You nodded and smiled as people talked over themselves. You didn’t catch a single name.

You craned your neck to look through the sea of people, trying to find your deskmate. You wanted to talk to him. See what he was reading. Catch his name. You saw him sitting by the window, chatting with a friend.

“You’re gonna come, right?” A voice snapped you out of it.

“Huh?” You ask

“To my party tonight. It’s going to be so much fun! Oh, you have to come!” She begged

“O-oh, um.. sure,” You smiled

Everyone around you cheered. This felt weird.

—

Minho was staring at you while he ate, he didn’t pay attention to what Jisung was saying.

“Hey!” Jisung snapped in front of his face, “Stop looking at the new girl and listen to me,” ”Nah,” Minho answered lazily

“Come to Sana’s party with us. Chan got invited, and he can sneak us in,” Jisung said, “We can become relevant.”

“Nah..” Minho muttered, taking a bite of his sandwich. He looked at you again, you looked a bit uncomfortable. “I don’t care about being relevant,”

Jisung groaned in annoyance and let his head fall to the desk. “C’mon, man!”

“Be for real. We’re just going to end up standing in a corner anyway,” Minho sighs and looks back at you. “Why bother going?”

With his head still resting on the table, Jisung turns and looks up at Minho. He follows his gaze, landing on you. Jisung immediately understands.

“She’s probably going to be there,” He coos

“W-what?” Minho stutters back, feeling his ears go red

“The new girl. You think she’s pretty right?” Jisung smiles teasingly at Minho, “She’s probably going to be there.”

“N-no, I-”

“You could talk to her,”

“Don’t be stupid-”

“Come oooooon” Jisung whines and begs

Minho sits there and grumbles for a while. He knows Jisung won’t quit until he’s got his way.

“…fine“ Minho groans in defeat, “But only for an hour,”

Jisung punches the air in victory.

—

Time skip. At the party.

“Come on, y/n!” A girl you didn’t remember the name of called out, “Play with us,” She held up the beer bottle

You hovered near the edge of the group, your cup of soda already warm in your hands. The room was packed, music loud, bodies crammed together on mismatched cushions and couches. You hadn't expected the party to be this much. You smiled awkwardly.

“What’s the game?” you asked.

“Spin the bottle!” she sing-songed. “Seven minutes in heaven rules.”

Oh. Oh.

Before you could think of a graceful way to back out, someone tugged at your arm and pulled you down into the circle. The room spun a little as you sat. You felt every pair of eyes on you for a moment too long.

You weren’t sure if it was the party or the nerves making your skin feel too warm.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

—

Minho was about to turn around and leave. He regretted that he didn’t pretend he’d been ssick.

“This was a mistake,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped into the too-loud living room. Chan closed the back door behind him. He scanned the crowd, awkward and stiff in the oversized hoodie he’d thrown on last-minute.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jisung said beside him, practically buzzing with excitement. “Look! This place is stacked.”

Minho didn’t respond. His eyes were already drifting toward the circle forming in the middle of the room. A bunch of people on the floor. A bottle in the center.

And you. Sitting right there, looking half-lost and like you wanted to vanish into the floorboards.

His heart dropped somewhere into his stomach.

“You’re welcome,” Jisung said smugly, following Minho’s gaze. “Now come on, hyung. We’re joining.”

“I’m not sitting there,” Minho grumbled. “That’s stupid.”

But he was already being pulled by the sleeve of his hoodie. Jisung shoved him gently into an open spot on the floor and plopped down beside him, beaming like he’d just orchestrated a K-drama plot twist.

Minho caught your eyes. You gave him a small, unsure smile.

His ears went red.

—

Someone shrieked as the bottle landed on two people who clearly weren’t expecting it. Laughter followed. The two were pushed down the hallway to the closet while the rest of the group counted down obnoxiously.

“I hate this game,” someone muttered.

You were starting to agree.

But then, a few rounds later, the bottle was handed to Minho.

—

Minho stared at the empty bottle in his lap like it was a live grenade. He should just spin it. No big deal. Totally random.

Except it wasn’t. Not really. Because all he could think was what if it lands on you.

He spun.

The room went quiet.

The bottle spun faster than he meant it to. Then slowed. Slower. Slower...

It stopped.

Pointing straight at you.

Oh, fuck.

Minho’s entire brain blanked. He didn’t even hear the noise around him. People cheered (mostly because you, the new girl, had gotten chosen), laughed, and someone started to chant “Closet! Closet!”

He didn’t move until Jisung smacked him on the back and whispered, “Dude. GO.”

—

Your heart was thudding painfully as you stood up. People were pushing you gently toward the hallway. You barely made eye contact with anyone, least of all Minho, who followed behind you with the stiff, stunned walk of someone heading to their own funeral.

The door opened. Someone whispered something like “Who invited that loser anyway?” and then the door shut.

Dark.

—

The closet was small and kind of smelled like detergent. You didn’t know where to stand, so you leaned awkwardly against the wall. Your head bumped into a shelf.

“Sorry,” Minho mumbled beside you.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

A beat passed.

Another.

If this awkward silence kept going, you were going to combust.

“I, um… do you- I saw you reading Haikyuu earlier. Do you like it?” You asked.

“Yeah, I-it’s my favorite,” He answered, relieved they you broke the silence. He’s also relieved the room is dark, so you can’t see how red his ears are.

“Really?” You kept the conversation going, “Mine too! My favorite is Hinata.”

“Mine too,” Minho answered shyly, “Have you read all of it? I just started re-reading it.”

“Yeah, I've read it maybe three times,” You chuckle, the awkward tension clearing up.

You don't notice it at first, but as you continue to talk, you both lean closer. And closer. And closer…

The awkward tension was slowly turning into a different kind of tension

—

The conversation stopped. So close now he could feel your breath on his face. He looked at your expression. The red light from outside is pooling under the door and illuminating your face. He doesn’t know where the courage to ask came from, but before he could think it over, his mouth started to speak.

“Can I…” he started. “I mean… if it’s okay… Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah... yeah, you can”

And then he leaned in.

It was soft. Hesitant at first. His lips barely brushed yours, like he was waiting for you to pull away. You didn’t. You leaned into him instead.

It was short. Sweet. Not perfect, but it didn’t have to be.

[alliceolivia]

Masterlist

For requests

Character.ai

Started: September 23, 2024

Updated: July 14, 2025

Total Works: 12

Marvel

You are safe (Bucky)

Sick day (Peter)

Blind date (Steve)

Blind date (Steve) pt.2

Eye of the Night (Peter) - imagine

Relapse (Loki)

Mistletoe (Thor)

New Year's Kiss (Bucky)

Supernatural

It wasn't supposed to end like this... (Dean Winchester)

Haunted (Dean)

Goodbye (Dean)

Stray Kids

7 Minutes in Heaven ✿ - Lee Minho | Lee Know x reader

[alliceolivia]

Haunted (Dean Winchester)

TW: Mention of $uicide

word count: 1398

requested by @elianamarie-blog

masterlist part 1

After your death, Dean was broken. He wouldn’t eat, he quit hunting, quit going outside at all really, just shut himself in his room. At some point, he even contemplated selling Baby. That was when Sam understood that Dean had hit the bottom. That Dean needed help.

But for Dean, the worst thing was sleeping. The nightmares that would plague his mind were almost too much for him to handle. He would dream of you. Everything you’d done together. Everything you should have done together. One of his favorite memories kept recurring. You'd had a day off and you had decided to go to the beach. On the way back to the motel, you leaned out of the passenger window. Your legs resting in his lap, hair flying crazy in the wind. You'd looked so beautiful, and it was the moment he'd accepted that he had a crush on you.

Then, the memory would melt away like old film and flashes of your burning body would start to take over. The sound of the gunshot, the thud when you hit the ground echoed in the background. And then he would wake up in an ocean of cold sweat.

But you were haunting him. Not only in his sleep. When he was awake too. But this was a ghost he didn’t want to leave.

He saw you in the corner of his eye. He would catch a glimpse of you in the review mirror, sitting in the backseat of Baby. You would sit at the end of his bed when he woke up in the middle of the night. Your voice distant and distorted as you spoke to him. As if you were speaking to him from the other side of a long tunnel.

“Shhh…” You would reach up and caress his cheek. He would close his eyes. Your touch like a cold breeze, “It was just a dream,”

When he opened his eyes again. You'd be gone.

A ‘sleep paralysis demon’ the psychiatrist Sam had forced him to get called it. The psychiatrist had given Dean a prescription for some pills that would prevent “the demon” from showing up. But all Dean could think was, “You weren't a demon”. And even though it hurt seeing you like this — not being able to touch you, and only being able to see you in his peripheral — he didn't want it to stop. It was a version of you that he might not have, but he at least hadn’t lost.

Dean started sleeping more and more. The nightmares were bad, but it was all worth it when he got to see you when he woke. Hear your whisper, feel the ghost of your fingers on his cheek.

“It was just a nightmare”

“It's fine, Dean”

“you're alright,”

“I'm right here,”

“Shhh…”

That's what it started like in the beginning. Short sentences comforting him in his distress. Then, it turned into something else. Almost like… Small cries for help?

“Don’t take the pills, Dean.”

“They are making you sick.”

“Sam doesn't like me, he wants me gone,”

“They make me weak, Dean”

No. That wasn’t right? Sam loved you just like he did. But he didn’t want you to disappear. Never again. So he quit taking them.

“Dean, please help me”

“I miss you, Dean,”

“I need you to do something for me”

“I love you,”

“I need you to follow me”

“Help me come back”

Your words burned into his brain. ‘Come back’. You could come back? Could he hold you again? His want, his need to feel more than the ghost of your fingers on his cheek was overbearing. So, one night, he woke up. Saw you sitting on the edge of his bed

“Show me where to go,” He begged, “Please”

You didn’t say anything, but you stood up and walked out to the hall. Dean followed you. Followed your shadow as you disappeared behind corners and through doors. He followed you out of the front door and down the road. He didn’t think about where he was going, he just kept his eyes on your form so he wouldn’t lose it. The door closed with a loud bang! and Sam woke up.

Sam walked groggily through the bunker, checking for what made the sound. When he couldn’t find anything he poked his head into Deans room to check if everything was fine before he went back to sleep. But Dean’s bed was empty and it went cold down Sam’s spine.

“Shit-” Sam said and ran through the whole layout one more time to look for Dean. When he couldn’t find him he ran outside and down the driveway. “Dean!”

He didn’t know where he had gone and just had to pick a way and hope it was the right one. He couldn’t have gotten far.

Eventually, luckily, he saw him down by the bridge.

“Dean! Dean, Stop!” Sam’s voice shouts as he runs to keep up, “Dean, step back!”

“No… no, I need to follow her,” Dean says desperately, “She’s gonna tell me how to get her back, I just need to-” When he turns back to look at you. You’re gone. He feels himself panic.

“No… Y/n? Y/n!” He shouts, tears prickling down his cheeks, “Y/N, come back! Where did you go, I need to-… I just- where did she go…?”

“She's not real, Dean” Sam said worried, “We burned her bones, remember? She can't come back”

That fact slammed Dean back to reality. It was like someone punched him in the stomach. He looked around and found himself standing on the rail of a bridge, a small step away from the edge. What was he doing? Was he going to jump? How did he get here? He didn’t know. He just needed to get down.

On shaky legs, he got down from the railing. Sam quickly stepped forward, catching him. Sam hugged him. And Dean hugged him back, desperately clinging to Sam. He had lost you… again.

“I- I can’t breathe,” Dean heaved

“Shhh… it’s going to be fine…” Sam whispered. He didn’t know what else to say.

---

The therapist later explains that Dean’s depression, and his longing for you, have been so severe that it caused him to hallucinate, his mind twisting reality just to keep him from breaking down completely. But as his suicidal thoughts worsened, the hallucinations changed. They tangled with the visions of you, warping into something darker. Something dangerous.

It took time, but Dean is okay now. At least, that’s what everyone says.

He takes his medication. He sleeps enough. He eats full meals. The weight in his chest isn’t as crushing as it used to be. The world didn’t feel as crushingly dark as it had. The road stretches wide ahead of them, summer heat shimmering off the asphalt, and the roar of Baby’s engine gives Dean life. This is good. This is what he knows.

But sometimes, in the quiet, he feels the ghost of your fingers against his cheek. Barely there, but enough to make him turn his head before he catches himself. The touch never lingers. It never lingers, never stays long enough for him to be sure if it’s real.

But of course, it never is.

Dean keeps his hands on the wheel, his grip firm. Sam notices that Dean doesn’t hum to the crackling music from the radio, some old Kansas song, as he usually does.

“You good?” Sam asks, keeping his voice casual.

Dean doesn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

A pause. Then, “You want me to take over?”

They had agreed that Sam would be allowed to drive so Dean wouldn’t burn himself out too fast. But Dean shakes his head.

“No… I got it.”

And he does. Driving is easy. It keeps his mind from going places it shouldn’t.

His eyes flick to the rearview mirror. Just a glance. Routine. But he isn’t looking at the car behind them.

He’s looking at you.

Leaned out of the window, your legs spread out in the backseat, hair flying crazy in the wind. You looked so beautiful.

His breath stutters.

His fingers twitch on the wheel, itching to reach for something he can’t touch.

He knows you’re not real. He knows.

Dean inhales sharply. His grip tightens.

His heartbeat thuds in his ears.

He blinks.

Once.

Twice.

But you don’t disappear.

[alliceolivia]

For requests!

Masterlist

Ao3

Character.ai

Here is a list of my main fandoms, but I'm a part of many, many more! So, you are very welcome to request other fandoms that are not on this list <3

- Marvel

- Superman

- Batman

- Supernatural

- Criminal Minds

- The Boys

- The Marauders / Harry Potter

- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

- Six of Crows

- Maze Runner

- Hunger Games

- Sherlock (BBC)

- The Magnus Archives

- Avatar: The Last Airbender / Legend of Korra

- Various k-pop groups (bts, txt, skz, etc)

[alliceolivia]

It wasn't supposed to end like this... (Dean Winchester)

got inspired by a c.ai chat by @ohsc

Tried to ask them if it was fine that I posted this, but I never got any answer... I'm posting it anyway (obviously), but girly just dm me if you want me to take it down <3 love ya

Hunt gone wrong. He can’t save you.

TW: sad ig? dying??

Word count: 1680

masterlist Part 2

He’d watched it happen.

The hunt was never supposed to go this sideways. It was bad enough dealing with a rogue vampire in the middle of fucking nowhere in the first place, but they were never supposed to get a hold of his gun, and they were never supposed to shoot.

Dean had watched as you stood there in shock. Then you fell to the floor. He didn’t even think — he swung his machete to the vampire’s neck, and its head hadn’t even hit the floor before he was on the ground beside you. There was so much blood. It was soaking through your clothes, onto the floor, onto him — You were miles out of town, and he didn’t have Cas with him — he felt helpless.

“Sam!” He shouted, his voice was raw. He didn’t even look at Sam as he threw the car keys in his direction. “Get the car now!”

Dean didn’t look up as Sam ran off to get the car, he just kept his eyes down on you, pulling you into his lap. His entire body flinched at the way you cried out as he pressed his hand firmly down on the gunshot wound, nauseous at the feeling of your warm, sticky blood against his palm.

“I know, I know,” he was fucking shaking, his breathing sharp and panicked as he kept his hand firmly pressed to your stomach even as you flinched in pain and tried to push it away. “You’re gonna be okay, baby, you’re gonna be okay-“ he felt like he was choking as he stared down at you, his heart in his throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

…

Dean’s hand was pressed tightly against your bullet wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. His breath was coming in short, uneven gasps, but he refused to let go. Not yet. He couldn’t. Not when you were still breathing, when there was still a chance —no matter how slim— that he could save you. His mind raced, looking for answers, for anything that could fix this. He could feel the warm slickness of your blood beneath his fingertips, hear the wet, laboured sound of your breathing. He could feel the fear radiating off of you, and worse— he could feel that you knew.

You knew you weren’t going to make it.

Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open, but it felt like gravity itself was pulling you into the depths of darkness. The pain was overwhelming. It wasn’t just the sharp sting of the bullet, but the weight of the realization settling deep inside you: this was the end. You were going to die.

You’d always known how dangerous this life was, but you had hoped. Hoped you’d get out alive. You had even dared to hope that you and Dean could walk away from this life. Escape the endless fight. But now? It was too late for that.

You loved him. Even though you’d never said it, you loved him. Every glance, every touch, every moment together—each one had been an unspoken promise. You had always known. But Dean, like you, had never dared to say the words. Neither of you had ever been the type for declarations, for confessions. But it was there. The connection was undeniable. It was in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching, in the way he always made sure you were safe, even at his own expense. You’d been through too much together for it to be anything less than love.

And that’s why you couldn’t let him stay.

You didn’t want him to watch you die. You didn’t want him to feel the crushing weight of the finality of it, to witness your last breath. It would break him. And if there was any part of you still fighting, it was for him. He couldn’t lose you like this.

“Dean…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, cracked with pain. He looked down at you, eyes wide with desperation, with raw fear.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hand tightened against the wound, pressing harder, as though that would somehow stop the bleeding, make you better, make it all go away.

“It’s fine. You’re gonna make it,” he said, his voice shaking, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. He wouldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept it.

But you knew. You knew.

You could feel your strength fading, the world around you growing dimmer. You had to do something. You had to get him away from you, away from the truth that you were slipping through his fingers.

“Sam’s been gone for too long,” you said softly, a weak attempt at distraction, your words a fragile plea for him to leave. “You should go check on him. Something might have happened. More vampires?”

Dean’s eyes flickered with hesitation. He didn’t want to leave. He never wanted to leave your side, especially now, when everything was falling apart. He knew what you were doing. He knew exactly what you were trying to do.

It took him a moment to process it. The realization that you were giving him an out. That you were pushing him away not because you wanted him gone, but because you wanted to spare him from the horror of watching you die.

His jaw tightened, his lips pressing together as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He looked down at you, and for a brief moment, you saw a glimpse of something breaking inside him. But you needed this. You needed him to leave, even if it hurt him to do so.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were wet, glossed over with unshed tears. His hand stayed firmly pressed against your wound, though he was starting to realize that nothing was going to stop it now. He was too late.

You could feel the tears that were threatening to fall in his eyes, but you couldn’t bear it. Not when it was already too late.

“Please, Dean,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You have to go. I’m... I’m not going to make it.” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, but you needed him to hear them. You needed him to understand.

His breath hitched. His lips parted as though he was going to argue, to beg you to keep fighting. But you could see it— the moment the truth hit him, the moment the realization sunk in that you weren’t going to make it. That there was no miracle left, no way to pull you back from the edge.

“Please…” you whispered again, your eyelids growing heavy, your vision blurring. “Sam... he might need you.”

He took one last, tortured look at you, the fight still burning in his eyes, but it slowly dimmed. With a sharp, pained exhale, he nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice trembling, breaking in the middle of the sentence. He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for just a moment too long. His hands were shaking as he pulled away, but he forced himself to stand, forced himself to turn away.

You watched him walk into the darkness, your chest tightening as his footsteps faded.

The moment he was out of sight, you allowed yourself to slip away.

…

Dean was on his way back. He knew you would be dead when he returned, but he didn’t want to believe it. He regretted leaving you the second he did, but he also knew you wouldn’t forgive him if he stayed. He hoped, no, he needed you to still be alive.

But it was always a distant hope. The kind of hope that didn’t stand a chance when reality came crashing down.

When he finally reached the spot where he had left you, his heart sank into his stomach. The air was just as quiet as he had feared. Too quiet. No sounds of you crying out in pain, no weak murmurs of breath. The world felt impossibly still, as though time itself had stopped.

Dean froze in the doorway of his own mind, his breath catching. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. He knew what he would see. He slowly made his way over to you.

His knees gave out. He collapsed beside you, his breath sharp and shallow, his throat tight with grief. He pulled you into his arms without a second thought, clutching you to him like the last thing that mattered in this godforsaken world. His hands shook as he touched your face, smoothing the hair away from your forehead, his fingers trembling as they traced the outline of your cheek.

He cradled you against him as he did something he never did. He prayed. He prayed to God. He prayed to Castiel. He prayed to Lucifer. Anyone. Anyone with power enough he prayed to. Begging for an answer, for help.

But, his prayers were nothing but desperate pleas.

…

Finally, Dean stood, trembling and broken. Sam was there, silent, his face etched with grief but ready to help.

“We’ll give her a hunter’s funeral,” Dean muttered, his voice hollow, eyes staring past Sam into the void. “She deserves that.”

Together, they carried you to the car, the weight of loss pressing down on them.

As the flames of the pyre licked the night sky, Dean stood alone, eyes fixed on the blaze. His lips moved silently, not praying for a miracle now, but for the strength to endure. He had always been the one who fought, who never gave up, who found a way to keep moving forward, no matter the odds. But not this time. This time, there was no fight left in him. He could feel it. It was all gone, swallowed up by the unbearable weight of the loss he had caused.

The world that had always felt like it was made of light and hope and endless possibility, now felt impossibly, crushingly dark.

[alliceolivia]

Blind date (Steve) pt.2

It may have taken me about three months... but, @storysbymyway, you asked for a part two, and you will get a part two! As my teacher always says; better late than never 😅 Really hope you like it <3

Word count: 1122

masterlist part 1

Two Months Later

pov Natasha

Two months. That’s how long it’s been since I orchestrated the infamous “Steve Meets Y/n” setup. And honestly? It’s been fascinating to watch things unfold.

Steve, the man who would rather jump out of a plane than go on a date, has become someone I barely recognize—in a good way. He’s lighter, happier. He smiles more, which was unnerving at first, but I can’t complain. The man deserves to be happy, and it’s clear Y/n is the one who makes that happen.

This morning, as I stroll into the Avengers kitchen, I catch him making a cake. A cake. He’s whistling some old tune, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Steve Rogers?” I ask, leaning against the counter.

Steve turns to me, a spatula in hand, unbothered by my teasing. “Good morning to you too, Nat.”

I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of my coffee. “Let me guess… you’re making it for Y/n?”

“It’s her birthday,” He shrugs, but there’s a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “We’re going on a date later.”

I can’t help but grin. “You’re smitten. Admit it.”

Steve shakes his head, butting frosting in a bag. “Can’t a guy make a cake for a girl without being interrogated?”

I laugh, and let it go (for now). But inside, I’m proud. My meddling worked better than I could’ve hoped.

pov Y/n

Walking into the Avengers Tower still feels surreal. The sleek hallways, the high-tech everything, and the occasional sighting of a superhero. None of it feels normal, even after two months of seeing Steve.

As I make my way to the kitchen, I can smell something delicious. Turning the corner, I spot Steve by the stove.

“Good morning,” I say, leaning against the doorway.

Steve turns, his face lighting up when he sees me. “Morning,” he says warmly and quickly makes his way over to hug me, whispering happy birthday into my ear. “Why don’t you wait in the living room? I just have to finish something here.” He has a sly smile on his face.

—

When we have finished eating, we sit in comfortable silence and just enjoy the view. I watch Steve with pure affection in my eyes while he looks out at the swans in the pond. There’s something so peaceful about him.

After a while, I notice a subtle shift in him. Steve takes a deep breath, the kind that signals he’s preparing to say something important. The sound catches my attention, and I sit up a little straighter, my curiosity piqued.

“Y/n,” he begins, his voice soft but something about it makes me uneasy.

“Yeah?” I prompt gently, sensing his hesitation. His usually confident demeanor has been replaced with a slight nervousness, and I can't help but feel a hint of concern. He looks down at his hands for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then reaches out to take mine in his. His fingers are warm and reassuring, but there’s a slight tremble that I can’t ignore.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he says, his eyes lifting to meet mine. There’s an intensity in his gaze, and my heart begins to race. “These past few months have been some of the best in my life, and it’s all because of you. You make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

His words are sweet, but I can’t shake the unease creeping into my chest. Despite the beautiful things he’s saying to me, I can’t oversee the nervousness in his eyes and the way his thumb absentmindedly rubs the back of my hand. I try to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to reveal the storm of emotions swirling inside me. But, my mind immediately jumps to the worst possible outcome right away.

Oh, no, I think, panic starting to bubble. Why does my mind always jump to conclusions? The feeling of foreboding grips me tightly. Does he not want to see me anymore? The thought sends a pang through my heart, and I internally plead, Not now, not now. Let it last a little longer. Not on my birthday-

pov Steve

I can’t believe how much my life has changed since that day at the café. Y/n and I have been seeing each other regularly, and each date has been better than the last. She’s brought a lightness into my life that I didn’t realize I was missing. Natasha was right—though I’d never admit it to her face—Y/n is exactly what I needed.

Today is her birthday and we’re meeting at the park for a picnic. The early spring air is crisp, and the trees are just starting to bloom. I’ve been planning this evening for weeks. I look into her eyes and squeeze her hand gently.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

“Do you not want to see me anymore?” Her voice cuts me off. She has a glum look on her face.

“No!” I quickly say. What on earth made her think that? “No, god, no! I…” I turn around and take a box out of my bag. “I- I want us to be official.” My heart is pounding as I open the box and show her the cake I made. On it I have written: Would you be my girlfriend?

“Would you be my girlfriend?” I finally say

For a moment, she looks surprised, but then her face breaks into a radiant smile as she looks between me and the cake.

“Steve, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” she says, her voice breathless and slightly higher than usual, with a hint of disbelief.

Relief and joy flood through me as I pull her into a hug. The world feels right—like everything has fallen into place.

pov Natasha

I smirk as I watch Steve and Y/n walk hand in hand into the Tower. They look so happy together, and I can’t help but feel a sense of pride. My meddling worked out perfectly.

As they pass by, I give Steve a knowing look. “So, Cap, how’s the dating life treating you?” I tease.

He chuckles, glancing at Y/n with a soft smile. “Better than I could have imagined,” he admits, squeezing her hand.

“Good,” I say, genuinely happy for them. “Just remember, I get to be the maid of honor at the wedding.”

Y/n laughs, and Steve rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “One step at a time, Nat,” he replies.

I watch them walk away, feeling content. It’s not often you get to see your friends find happiness, and knowing I played a part in it makes it even sweeter.

Mission accomplished.

[alliceolivia]

New Year's Kiss (Bucky)

I thought about waiting to post this until New Year's... but why wait when you can give the people something sweet now? (cringe ik and idc)

word count: 466

masterlist

pov Y/n

The frosty air nipped at your cheeks as you joined your friends on the front porch. Laughter and chatter filled the night, the energy electric as everyone counted down the minutes to the new year. Despite the festivity, your heart felt heavy. The fight with Bucky had lingered like a storm cloud over the holidays, casting shadows over what should have been joyful celebrations.

When you had invited him tonight, it had been a leap of faith—a last-ditch effort to mend what had gone wrong. You checked your phone again, but there were no new messages. Your heart sank further.

“He’s not coming, is he?” you whispered under your breath, forcing a smile as your friends nudged you to join the countdown. You let yourself be pulled outside, the chill of the air bracing against your simmering disappointment.

The countdown began.

“Ten… nine…”

You stole a glance at the street, hoping against hope.

“Eight… seven…”

Your breath puffed out in a frosty plume as you tried to shake the ache in your chest.

“Six… five…”

A distant rumble reached your ears, and your gaze snapped to the corner of the street. A car sped into view, tires crunching on snow as it came to a screeching halt in front of the house.

“Four… three…”

Your heart leaped as Bucky stepped out, his face flushed from the cold and something else entirely—determination.

“Two…”

“Bucky? Wha—” you started, but the words barely left your lips before he closed the distance between you, his metal hand cold as it cupped your cheek, his other pulling you into him. His lips met yours, warm and urgent, as the fireworks erupted in the sky.

Cheers and whoops erupted around you, but all you could hear was the thundering of your heart.

When he pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingled with yours in the cold night air. His voice was soft, but it carried the weight of everything he felt.

“No way I’m starting the new year without you,” he whispered. “I’ve acted like an ass. Please, forgive me.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you laughed, a watery, breathless sound that felt like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured, your hands curling into the fabric of his coat. “But you’re my idiot.”

The tension broke as he laughed, his expression soft and hopeful. He kissed you again, slower this time, as the fireworks painted the sky in vibrant colors. Around you, the world celebrated, but all that mattered was the man holding you like he’d never let go.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest.

“Happy New Year, doll,” he murmured back. And for the first time in weeks, everything felt exactly as it should

[alliceolivia]

Mistletoe (Thor)

And on the 12th day of Christmas, I gave you a cute (very rushed) fic! Exams are done and I only have a few more Christmas presents left to buy <3 I hope everyone has a nice holiday, whether you celebrate or not

word count: 671

masterlist

pov Thor

You and Thor had been flirting on and off for a few months now, but lately, Thor had noticed a shift in himself. He’d always been confident (some would say overconfident) when it came to people, but with you, he found himself second-guessing his words, wanting them to be perfect. He caught himself looking for you in every room, feeling a peculiar warmth when your eyes met. It wasn’t until Tony ribbed him about how often he talked about you that Thor realized he was well and truly smitten.

“Just ask her out, Goldilocks,” Tony had said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

"Yeah!" Natasha chimed in, "It's Christmas, it's the perfect time. Super romantic!”

“No, no no,” Thor laughs lightly, nervously, “I- I can’t ask her out,” He wanted to though. He just didn’t know how.

“Why not?” Steve asked, crossing his arms and giving Thor a look. “You’re literally a god. What could you possibly be afraid of?”

Thor shifted uncomfortably, his confidence momentarily dimmed. “It is not fear, Captain. It’s... respect,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “She is remarkable. I wish for it to be perfect, not rushed or clumsy.”

Tony snorted. “You’ve been hanging around us mortals too long if you’re second-guessing yourself this much. Relax, big guy. We’ll help you.”

Thor’s eyebrows raised. “We?”

“Oh, we’re all in,” Natasha declared, smirking as she exchanged a glance with Clint. “This could be fun.”

“What’s the plan?” Bruce asked, a small, amused smile on his face as he sipped his tea.

“Well, first,” Tony said, clapping his hands together, “we need to create the perfect opportunity. Something festive, casual, yet magical. Stark Tower’s Christmas party is tomorrow night—plenty of mistletoe. Trust me, it’s foolproof.”

The next evening, the Tower was aglow with twinkling lights, holiday decorations, and the hum of cheerful chatter. You arrived wearing a deep red dress, your cheeks slightly flushed from the chill outside. Thor’s heart practically stopped when he saw you step into the room.

“Thor,” Natasha whispered as she sidled up to him, elbowing him lightly. “This is your moment. Go.”

Before he could move, though, the Avengers sprang into action. Clint “accidentally” spilled a drink, forcing you to move closer to the fireplace. Bruce suggested an impromptu carol-singing session, strategically guiding Thor to stand near you. Tony, always a showman, made a grand announcement about the importance of mistletoe traditions and pointed out several conveniently placed sprigs around the room.

Finally, Natasha took matters into her own hands. “Hey, Thor,” she said loudly enough for you to hear. “Why don’t you tell her what you were just telling us about holiday traditions on Asgard?”

You turned to look at Thor, your brow raised in curiosity. “Oh? What about Asgardian traditions?”

Thor, flustered but determined, stepped closer. “Ah, yes. On Asgard, we have a similar custom to your Christmas. We call it Yule, and-”

Tony, always the opportunist, chimed in, “Well, would you look at that?” and pointed to the ceiling.

You glanced up, noticing the sprig of mistletoe hanging above you. A smile tugged at your lips as you met Thor’s gaze. “I guess we’re supposed to follow tradition, then.”

Thor’s usual boldness returned in full force, fueled by your encouraging smile. He reached out to gently cup your face, his blue eyes soft and earnest. “I have admired you from afar for far too long,” he murmured, his voice just for you. “May I?”

Your answer came in the form of you leaning in, closing the small gap between you. The kiss was tender and sweet, full of the emotions Thor had been holding back for months. Cheers and whistles erupted around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks warm and your heart racing, you teased, “Was this part of the Asgardian tradition too?”

Thor grinned, his confidence now fully restored. “No, but perhaps it should be.”

[alliceolivia]

Relapse (Loki)

tw: alcoholism

word count: 1343

masterlist

pov Y/n

Two years sober gone just like that. It was easier than I expected. I have imagined relapse a few times over the years and in each scenario, I saw myself in this big inner fight. I would walk to the liquor store, then walk away. I would open the bottle, and then close it again. I would pour myself a glass, and then push it away. I would go to and fro like that for a long time before losing the fight. But that wasn’t what happened at all. When it came down to it, I hadn’t even purchased the alcohol myself. I stole it from Stark Tower. I don’t know for sure if 'steal' is the right word as I live here too, but I’m not supposed to have it, so I guess the word would be right. But yes, it was easier than I expected. I hadn’t even gotten out of the wine cellar before I had taken the first sip, and now, I can’t remember why I started drinkin. I lay on my floor knowing if I try to stand up, I will fail.

I woke up with a huge headache. I look at the time, 12.30 pm, I slept through breakfast. I scramble around my room to find clothes to wear. I managed to make my way to the bathroom and I tried my best to make myself look presentable. The second my hand hits the doorhandle it’s as if a sonic wave hits me and I am overwhelmed by shame. What have I done? Two years, I was two years sober. They are going to know the second I walk out of here. They are going to be so disappointed. I can feel my heartbeat quicken, I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I need to, calm. I need to calm down. I need to calm down. The next thing I know I have opened a beer and downed it. And it helps. I feel calm again. I go out of my room and I join the others.

---

I step into the common room, hoping to blend in, to not draw any attention to myself. The beer from earlier is still settling in my stomach, its bitter taste lingering in my mouth, but it did its job. I’m calm, at least for now. The shame still gnaws at the edges of my mind, but it’s quieter. Manageable.

They’re all here—Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor. The usual faces, all caught up in some conversation I can’t quite focus on. I avoid eye contact, especially with Steve. He’s the one who always notices when something’s off, and today, everything feels off.

I take a seat on the couch, sinking into the cushions as quietly as possible, trying not to seem like I’m hiding. But I am. I’m hiding everything—my shaky hands, my racing heart, the emptiness that made me reach for that first drink. And the second. I promised myself I wouldn’t, but promises seem so weak when the cravings come. When the noise in my head gets too loud.

“Y/N, you good?” Natasha asks, her sharp eyes flicking toward me. I force a smile, nodding quickly. Too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired,” I lie, but I know she doesn’t buy it. None of them do. I can feel their gazes on me, lingering a little too long. The shame creeps up again, hot and suffocating. They know. They all know.

But no one says anything.

pov Loki

I’ve been watching her. For days now, I’ve seen the way she moves through the tower, quieter, more withdrawn. It’s subtle, but I notice. I always notice these things. The rest of them, they turn a blind eye. They pretend not to see the way she flinches at their questions or how her hands tremble ever so slightly when she reaches for a glass of water.

But it’s not water, is it? Not always.

The others think they’re helping by giving her space, by not addressing what’s glaringly obvious. Fools. Silence is the enemy in matters like this. They pity her, yes, but pity does nothing but rot from the inside. She needs help. She needs someone who sees her—really sees her.

I wasn’t meant to know. I wasn’t meant to find out about her past, her struggles. But when I arrived here, curiosity got the better of me, and in my exploration of Stark’s office, I came across her file. I wish I hadn’t. Or perhaps I’m glad I did, because now, at least, someone knows the truth.

Y/N is strong, but even the strongest need help. The others are too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice how close she is to the edge, but I see it. She’s unraveling, and if no one does anything soon, she’ll fall—and I’m not sure she’ll get back up this time.

pov Y/n

The room feels too small. Every breath feels heavy, and I can’t shake the feeling that everyone is watching me. Judging me. Maybe I should’ve stayed in my room. But I can’t hide forever. I can’t let them know something’s wrong.

I hear Tony say something sarcastic, but it’s drowned out by the pounding in my ears. I catch a glimpse of Loki from the corner of my eye—he’s sitting quietly, as he usually does, but there’s something different today. His gaze is fixed on me, sharp and unwavering. It’s like he knows.

I don’t know how, but he knows.

I stand abruptly, the sudden movement making my head spin. “I, uh... I think I need some air,” I mumble, hoping no one asks questions. Natasha gives me a concerned look, but I don’t stop. I need to get out of here. I can’t breathe.

pov Loki

She’s slipping.

I watch as she stumbles out of the room, making some excuse about needing air. None of them stop her. None of them follow. They sit there, pretending that everything is fine, but it’s not.

I wait a moment before standing, making my exit as casually as possible. None of them notice me leaving. Typical.

The hallway is quiet when I find her, leaning against the wall, her breathing heavy, her hands shaking.

“Y/N.”

She jumps at the sound of her name, and when she looks at me, I see the fear in her eyes—the fear of being caught, of being seen for what she really is right now. But I won’t play their game. I won’t pretend that nothing’s wrong.

“You’ve relapsed,” I say, my voice low but firm.

Her eyes widen in panic, her lips parting to deny it, but the words don’t come. She knows there’s no point in lying to me.

“I’m fine,” she finally whispers, but the crack in her voice betrays her. “I can handle it.”

I take a step closer, my gaze never leaving hers. “You cannot handle this alone. And it’s clear that no one else here is willing to help.”

She looks down, her shoulders slumping in defeat. For a moment, she’s quiet, and then, barely audible, she says, “I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“And yet,” I say softly, “you’re drowning in front of them, and they do nothing.”

She lets out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t want them to know.”

“They already do,” I say, glancing back toward the common room. “They just don’t want to see it.”

Her silence is telling, and I feel a strange, unfamiliar pang in my chest. I don’t know why I care so much. I barely know her, but there’s something about Y/N that draws me in—something raw and broken that I recognize all too well.

“I’ll help you,” I say quietly. She looks at me, surprised. “If you let me.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse, to push me away like she has with the others. But then she nods, and I feel something shift.

Maybe she doesn’t have to face this alone after all.

[alliceolivia]

Eye of the Night (Peter)

imagine based on 'Eye of the Night' by Conan Gray

word count: 250

masterlist

pov YN

As I walk down the empty streets of New York, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. The city that never sleeps, and neither does he. Peter Parker, once a friendly neighborhood hero, has become my personal shadow. His eyes follow me from the rooftops, his presence a constant whisper in the wind.

I can't pinpoint the exact moment it began or comprehend why he's developed this intense fixation on me. The reasons behind Peter's obsession will remain a mystery, but the reality of it is undeniable. He has chosen me as the focus of his unwavering attention, and I find myself trapped in a web of his making. No matter where I go or what I do, there seems to be no way to break free from his constant surveillance. The city that once felt like home has transformed into a maze with no exit, leaving me feeling perpetually cornered and exposed.

I try to escape, fumbling with my keys at the door, but even inside I'm not safe. I swear I can hear his heartbeat through the walls, a reminder that I'm never truly alone. The memories of our past haunt me, turning what was once a comforting presence into a silent war for my peace of mind.

He's always there, the Eye of the Night, watching, waiting. In the corners of my vision, I catch glimpses of red and blue. Peter Parker, my guardian turned stalker, has become the ghost I can't escape.