#die. it dies each time it is told or it never dies do you hear me exploding into a million billion bits of stardust because hholy gshit kng

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so y/n is secretly a god of keeping an eye on this gravity falls universe and is trying to protect the kids because she's seen how they died so many times and full on just breaks down in front of Stan and ford telling them

Ngl this was kinda shit

You don’t know how much more you could take of having beer witnessed to so many timelines where the twins died far too young.

You didn’t know how much more of their suffering you were forced to watch on the sidelines while being reminded by beings of a power far greater than yours that there was to be no divine intervention. None whatsoever as it was a taboo amongst gods and was punishable by having the elder gods remove your immortality and take away any and all divine powers from you.

You didn’t care about the consequences of your own actions when you fled from your home in hopes of helping Dipper and Mabel survive one timeline, to grow older and live long happy lives unlike their alternate selves that you couldn’t save. You were sick and tired of seeing the same end result for the Pine twins timeline after timeline after timeline. This time it was going to be different, and you were going to make sure of it as you watched through the bark of trees as they ventured off on their next monster of the week, always coming back to the shack unscathed.

‘Hey great aunt/ grunkle y/n!’ They’d both greet you with wide smiles despite their messy appearances.

‘You two looked like you had some fun today. Find anything investing to share?’ You’d ask them but you already knew the answer. You had used your power to ward off the sneaky pack of Direwolves from mauling the kids and grant them a quick escape, a victory unfortunately not shared by their alternate selves, who never came back from the encounter. You still remembered the pained screams as they were deeply etched into your subconscious, keeping you awake at night.

The twins shared a look as thought debating whether or not to tell you, only to mentally agree on the later as they both looked back at you and said in unison; ‘nope! Just some scrapes and cuts, nothing interesting at all!’ Before they left to go to their room. As soon as they left the smile of your face faltered as you let out an uneven sigh, your hands covering your eyes as you softly wept into them, not understanding how cruel life must be to condemn the sweetest and bravest children you knew to countless deaths with each one being worse then the last.

You didn’t care that you’d be punished for your actions, you didn’t care that you’d be ridiculed and berated by the elder gods for being too human for a god, but you would much rather risk it all if it meant that all your effort and energy would bring forth a timeline where the twins emerged victorious; They deserved as much.

‘I can’t let it happen again.’ You whispered to yourself.

You must’ve been too occupied by the turmoil inside your own head that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps came towards you, nor noticed that whoever was walking towards you had now sat themselves on either side of you until a hand was placed on your shoulder were you finally drawn back to reality.

‘Are you okay? Dipper and Mabel said they could hear you sobbing.’ Ford said and you saw that both he and Stan had come to check on you.

‘I can’t.’ You muttered.

‘Can’t what?’ Stan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘I can’t watch them die again, not this time.’ You said as you wiped your eyes clean of tears. ‘I’ve watched enough of the same story come to violent and unfair endings and got told that’s just how the way things are.’

Ford and Stan shared a look, not knowing the best course of action to take in order to comfort you when you were talking in vague and ominous riddles. So Ford gently moved you so that you were looking at him directly, ‘what do you mean by that? Who’s them?’ You breathed in deeply as you mustered up the strength to tell Ford and Stan a truth you’ve been keeping to yourself in order to keep them all safe, but the Pines Family were a curious bunch and couldn’t help but be drawn to things they shouldn’t, while also having strange things be drawn to them in vice versa.

‘I haven’t been all that truthful about who I am and I only did so for a good reason, to keep you all safe.’ You said as you held onto Ford’s arms while looking between him and Stan, ‘I’m a deity who came here to Gravity Falls after bearing witness to multiple timelines where Dipper and Mabel don’t make it out alive from their encounters with the anomalies of this very town. I’ve risked everything to be here, even my own powers and immortality to keeping these kids safe in hopes of seeing the fruits of my labour be proven fruitful.’ You continued your admittance as you saw the conflicting emotions cut across their faces the more you spoke of your true origin.

‘What do you mean that dipper and Mabel die in each timeline you’ve seen?’ Stan then asked, his face set in agitation, ‘you’re a god aren’t you? Couldn’t you just have intervened and save them regardless? I thought you gods were meant to be omnipotent or whatever?’

‘That’s not how it works, is it.’ Ford said as he was slowly putting the pieces together while his thumbs caressed your shoulders reassuringly.

‘No.’ You said softly as a new wave of tears started to cascade down your cheeks. ‘The elder gods decreed long ago to forbid divine intervention of all kinds. They claim that there was nothing that can be done to change what has already been foreseen, but I couldn’t do it.’ You whimpered as you looked at Stan. ‘I just couldn’t when I knew that I could at least change one timeline, just one. Im sorry.’ You finished as Stan and Ford felt their hearts hurt for you, a god who was going against their entire way of life to keeping their grand niece and nephew safe, all the while feeling immense guilt consumed you from the inside out over the other realities.

Stan then moved so that he was just as in your line of sight as Ford was and began to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. ‘I guess that explains all those times I’ve seen you silently stare out into the woods.’ He began jokingly as everything leading up to now started to make sense, how you’d always put yourself between the children and any potential danger or how you’d watch over them like a hawk and making sure they were in your line of sight no matter what as though afraid that something terrible would happen if they weren’t. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for them sweetheart, but it’s time you took care of yourself just as well.’ Stan then adds as he and Ford escorted you back into the shack, much to your confusion as you looked between them.

‘I cant! I have to make sure-‘

‘The twins are fast asleep in their beds y/n. They’re safe, you have done enough for today. Now if it time for you to rest.’ Ford gently reprimanded you as you suddenly began to feel the weight of fatigue that you had been putting off for several days now.

‘Yeah don’t go worrying yourself so much, or else you’ll get grey hairs like me and point Dexter over here. Let us take over once in a while okay honey?’ Stan says as he and Ford tried to get your mind off of your mission when they both saw just how much you’ve run yourself into the ground, how reluctant you were to relinquishing control and allowing yourself to rest up from the countless days of no sleep nor sustenance. They were pretty sure you hadn’t looked at yourself in a mirror to know just how badly you looked, nor the haunted you seem to get in your eyes now and then as though you were recalling traumatic events.

‘But-‘

‘Nope.’ Stan interrupted.

‘Can’t I just-‘

‘I’m afraid we can’t let you do that. God or not, you need rest. We’ll keep the kids safe in your stead.’ Ford cuts you off this time as he and Stan managed to wrangle you into bed after a brief struggle where you realised just how badly your limbs ached snd screamed with a desire to rest or how your eyelids felt heavier then lead.

‘Promise?’ You asked them sleepily.

Stan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while Ford squeezed your hand reassuringly. ‘We promise, you’ve done your part so please, let us do ours.’

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!” 

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called. 

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met. 

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning. 

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.  Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

A/N: Please don't hate me.

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[a-araiguma-a]

He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.

[simpee9000]

Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣

Idea:

Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now

I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)

Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3

Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning

Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader

Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.

From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.

It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.

You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.

-

Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.

Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.

Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.

Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.

You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.

The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.

How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.

You thought you died. You didn't want to die.

"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.

You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.

Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.

You couldn't be a hero.

"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.

They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"

"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.

"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.

He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."

He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."

"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"

"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."

"I don't know what I'll do-"

"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.

-

Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.

Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.

Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.

It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.

You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.

Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.

Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.

He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.

"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.

"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."

"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.

"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.

Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.

He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"

You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."

Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.

You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.

He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.

Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."

Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.

He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.

"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."

Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.

You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long

Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.

He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.

"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.

"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.

He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.

"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.

"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.

"Please?"

He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.

Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.

Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.

His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.

He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.

The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.

"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.

He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.

Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.

You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.

It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.

"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.

"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.

(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)

You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!

[literaila]

*mischievous laugh* mueheheh

hypothetically, what if reader dies? 😈 what will poor megumi and tsumiki do now? what would gojo do too? 🥸

um… hello??? what is wrong with—

okay, so let’s start off with the simplest reaction. megumi is out for vengeance.

it’s clear that he’s got a bit of a… sadistic nature to him (undefined by whatever morals normal people have, yeah whatever). but why is he strong if not to protect the world from evil things? why does he have power if he’s not supposed to use it?

so, you being a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s likely that you died fighting a curse. if that’s the case, megumi is hunting that curse down and eliminating it in an instant. and then he keeps going. he’s going to kill every curse he can find, because you shouldn’t have died.

if anyone doesn’t deserve to die, it’s you.

and while megumi can hear your words in his head, telling him to protect others, to take care of people, to stay with his family… if you’re gone, what does it matter?

megumi will live in his anger. he doesn’t need depression or acceptance. what he needs is you, and if he can’t have you anymore…

and then there’s tsumiki. she wouldn’t feel angry, like megumi, but lost.

it’s obvious that she believes there’s a sort of destiny within the world. she thinks that all bad things happen so that the good things, the truly good things, can come next. she believes that you have to feel pain to feel pleasure. she trusts this idea.

before you die, tsumiki isn’t afraid of anything.

but after you die, she loses her purpose. her ideals, her faith in the world.

she goes from the trusting little girl who would believe satoru if he told her that he was really a robot with a human heart inside of him, from the girl who took everything at face value, believed that all people should protect each other, help each other—

she goes from your little girl to something entirely different.

what’s the point of this? she wonders. if her mom had to die to bring her to you and satoru, she understands. if she and megumi had to take care of themselves for a year—living in some apartment that didn’t have running water—just to find a real family, then it was worth it.

but what’s worth it if you’re dead? what’s the point to losing another mom, another person that tsumiki was supposed to help take care of?

she can’t do anything, though. she’s always been the most powerless of her family members. and after you die, she’s not your little girl anymore.

she’s just lost.

and, of course, satoru.

i think he shares the same grief that both megumi and tsumiki feel—anger, denial—but he’s older than them. he loves you differently than they ever could.

there was a time when satoru had pushed you away just to get back to that place where he was nothing but strong. where his feelings had no bearing in his power, where emotions didn’t matter as long as he was the honored one.

but, really, if it takes you dying to get back to that place—then satoru never wants to be strong again.

when suguru died, satoru was committed to carrying out his plans. to protecting sorcerers from a world forged against them. he wanted to train a generation of sorcerers who didn’t have to worry about dying with regrets, who could take care of themselves along with all of the non-sorcerers in the world.

to eradicate cursed energy, in whatever capacity.

but when you die, satoru loses all that purpose. why should he care about the world when he no longer has to protect you from it?

why should he care at all?

so, just like after riko died, satoru is back to being nothing but a vessel for power. he doesn’t care who he kills, what he kills, as long as it has some meaning, some pointless purpose that doesn’t matter to him.

but, it only takes one memory of you to snap him out of it. he can almost feel you clawing at his chest, your voice begging him to take care of them.

so, eventually, satoru finds his way home. he’s got two other people to protect.

and he’ll be damned if anything happens to them.

[zoros-sake-bottles]

What you’d argue with them over ! Pt.1 (Zoro, Sanji & Law)

Zoro

-Your arguing about him not taking care of his body

Zoro is willing to stretch his body to any length in order to defeat his opponent, he will break all his bones and loose half of his blood-he doesn’t care at all

He cannot and will not lose before he fights Mi-hawk and steals the title of greatest swordsman

You understand….BUT YOU CANNOT STAND IT

After every battle your left pale at the sight of Zoro, mortified at how he lays on his back in a sweat, bleeding and breathing so heavily 

By the time Chopper gets to him he’s barely conscious and each time you fear the worst. But of course since this is Zoro he pops right back up after a couple hours rest and instantly tries to train

“Lay down” you say your eyes meeting his

He sits up against your wishes and tries to stretch resulting in a spurt of blood from his abdomen

"moron" you mumble forcing him down

Its silent between the two of you as the topic of the afternoon hangs over you both

Your glaring at your boyfriend and he can feel it, so he turns his head away from you

He knows that your arms are crossed and your jaw is clenched

He knows your livid and he also knows why but no matter how intimidating your stance is he won't back down

"Oi, stop looking at me like that-"

"Shut the hell up" you say, your voice sharp and pointy like the edge of a knife

Zoro turns his head as he's about to give you a piece of his mind 

"I don't want to hear it, I'm done. You don't care then I won't care" 

"Go out and die then, selfish prick" you spat

Zoro huffs in disbelief, you've never gotten this callous with him before and he can't believe it 

"If I die that means I failed my goal and didn't deserve the title I was going after, I'm going to push myself beyond my limits whether you like it or not y/n!"

You get up and walk out of the room

You seemed so calm but underneath you were just seething

Zoro had basically just told you that your opinion meant nothing to him and that if he died then he just died

Did he ever really think about you? Did he think about how his death would affect you? How it would affect the crew? 

You bet Mi-hawk recuperates, you knew for a fact that he wasn't dumb and reckless like your boyfriend was

By the way Zoro was doing things, he was going to die from over exhaustion, rather than an actual fight

You cared so much and you hated it

Often there were times when you wanted to tell him "No, you can't go yet" "Zoro your wounds are still healing" "Don't lift weights the stitches will come loose" 

But you never said anything because you knew he would ignore you, telling you to stop nagging and that you were over exaggerating

You were sick and tired of it, so now you were going to let him be 

 Sanji

-Your arguing about him being sweet to other women

Arguments are rare things , that's how good the two of you get along

You’ve always been that solid couple that remembers everything: dates, anniversaries, birthdays-etc.etc.

So for the two of you to have a disagreement it kind of freaked you out

Your fights were always centered around two things: Sanji’s hyper attentiveness to other women's needs and you putting yourself in danger for the safety of others

Today it was the hyper attentiveness

You just couldn’t understand it sometimes, why he went out of his way to do things for girls who clearly had no intention of making nice with him

He would be any woman's doormat! It drove you insane!

You were all for the “respect and never hurt a woman” attitude but the things he allowed-it was a cross of boundaries ! 

Not to mention he was totally oblivious to when women were subtly flirting with him, every time he got bumped against, groped & touched- he just smiled politely

You were a calm and rational person but unfortunately someone got a fist to the face today

You had stormed away, with him apologizing to your victim and chasing after you in your wake

He tried to stop you and talk but you ended up blowing up on him

"Darling-please-" he tried to reach out for your arm

"Don't Sanji! Don't even-I can't do this right now!" you yank away from him

Still he follows behind you like he almost always does

"I can't believe you let that woman touch your chest!" 

"Ma cheri she simply fell into me-”

“What did she trip on Sanji?! The air!?

Sanji loves you more than anything so he didn’t shout not once but you could hear it in his voice that he didn’t agree with the way you handled things

It was no point in talking if he wasn’t going to understand so you left him there and didn’t talk to him much after that

Law

-Your arguing about him not communicating with you properly

This man is a loner

Even with a complete crew, he’s still a loner

You can’t even fathom how your relationship had gotten this far

There's so much he doesn’t tell you, even the small things everyone should know “oh I'm allergic to….  I don’t like when you….  I changed the ….” NOTHING HE TELLS YOU NOTHING

He often does this thing where he underestimates you 

Law operates on his own, he goes by what he thinks is best

You could talk up a whole plan for battle and research ! He would tell you “okay” but when it comes to the day of acting out the plan he’s changed EVERYTHING about it and hasn’t spoken a WORD to you

“Law, are you dead serious?! Wha-I-I looked like an idiot out there! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” you stressed running your hands through your hair

“Y/n- ya it wasn’t that much of a change I simply-”

“I was telling everyone the wrong information! I cost us time and-and-”

“It was fine, I'm telling you, your overthinking it…Bepo and Penguin took over and in the end everything was ok, we didn’t draw much attention either” he stood in the door of your shared room with his arms crossed

He clearly didn’t understand why you were so upset, he didn’t understand the magnitude of the issue for you

“Law, look at me…” you glared at your boyfriend

“I WANTED to help, I WANTED them to trust and follow my lead as a fellow member of this crew! Today all I showed them was that i am a clueless buffoon who just so happens to date their captain” your fist balled up

“Nobody thinks that” he raised an eyebrow, dismissing your thoughts and feelings

You were a steaming pot and just like that you were over boiling

“Will you stop treating me like I'm some blasted kid?! I'm 24, for goodness sakes Law are you even listening to me when I talk?!” you shouted but it seemed to have no affect on him

Law stayed silent in the corner and he didn’t move a muscle

You felt like you were talking to a wall

Your eyes glossed over and you stood up and pushed past him, tired of being dismissed and handled like you were incapable 

https://www.tumblr.com/zoros-sake-bottles/730292614007603200/what-youd-argue-with-them-over-pt2-zoro-sanji?source=share

[dindjarindiaries]

Your Needs, My Needs

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy?" "I dropped everything to be with you! Everything!" & "Don't you want the same?"

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

Din stumbles towards you, and you give him a worried once-over at the unsteady movement. He doesn't appear to have any serious injuries on the surface, and the bodies strewn on the floor around him prove that the fight alone could have made him exhausted—especially since he spent stars know long fighting them on his own before you showed up.

You holster your blaster and keep your gaze on Din's visor as he approaches you, awaiting his usual polite nod and gentle thank-you. Instead, he stands with his gloved hands curled into fists at his sides, his helmet tilting before he addresses you in a tight tone. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You scoff and raise an eyebrow. There's no way he's being serious. "A 'thank you' would suffice."

"No." Din's response is curt. He points a gloved finger towards your chest. "You're not supposed to be here."

Your jaw hits the floor, bracing for the impact of your heart that follows it. "Really?" You cross your arms and hope the gesture hides your hurt. "I save your ass, and that's the first thing you choose to say to me?"

Din swings his helmet to the side, readjusting his stance amidst his audacity to act angry. "I told you to stay behind and rest while I got this information." He faces you again and punctuates each word through a tightened jaw. "You're. Not. Supposed. To. Be. Here."

"Yet, here I am." You laugh, but the sound is curt, not amused. "And had I not come here, you probably would've died. What then, Din?"

He shrugs. "It would've been a warrior's death." He adds a nod. "This is the Way."

You gawk at him for a moment. Your jaw ultimately snaps shut as you shake your head at him. "No, no. This is bantha shit." You take a step closer to him and lift your own finger in accusation. "You were taking longer than I expected, so I did the right thing and came to see if you were okay. Now, you're angry at me, because I didn't let you die?"

Din's helmet straightens as if he insists on speaking, but you don't give him the chance.

"If the roles were reversed, you would've killed anyone in your path to get to me, right?"

Din remains silent. His weight is set on one hip, his visor never straying from your gaze. You suddenly begin to feel overcome by a wave of fear as you repeat yourself.

"Right?"

"That's different. I signed up for this life. It was information I needed." Din points his finger into his own chest this time. "It was reckless of you to risk your own life trying to intervene."

"Reckless?" You can't help laughing again, your hands slapping your thighs as you walk back and circle around to compose yourself. "Stars, Din, doesn't it get exhausting playing the role of the honorable hero? The person who's so self-sacrificial, but refuses to let anyone do the same?" You cross your arms again and narrow your eyes. "That's not how this works."

Din's hands rest on his hips. "How what works?"

Your chest stalls for a moment, and your gaze falls to the floor. This isn't how you wanted this to go. You've been picturing this moment for so long, and this isn't at all how you expected it to happen. "You know what."

Din's arms slowly fall back to his sides as he takes a step forward. "How what works?"

Your chin nearly meets your shoulder as you hide from him, your eyes squeezing closed before you force yourself to face him with all the desperation and rage that festers within your chest. "Love, Din." You throw your hands up in the air. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy?"

Din's already stopped in his tracks, and after a long moment of anticipatory silence, he starts to shake his helmet. "No."

You huff, the pain rattling you in a wound worse than anything a blaster could give you. "No?"

Din's visor falls to the floor. "No. You weren't supposed to..." He can't even say it. He shifts his weight between his feet. "You can't."

"Again, Din, that's not how this works." You're thriving on your bitterness, now, as you take a step away from him. "And who are you to tell me how to feel?"

Din's helmet snaps up to meet your gaze. "I'm not... I didn't mean..." He lets out a frustrated sigh of his own, his gloved hands resting on his hips again as his helmet swings to the side. "You're not supposed to because it's dangerous. I'm still a wanted man, with or without the kid." His voice lowers at that, and for just a short moment, you pity him. "You shouldn't be tied to someone like that." He finds your gaze again and nods in resolve. "You won't be."

Your heart begins to shatter into painful fragments, and you let your agony show. "So, that's it?" Every memory of your time spent with Din hits you in an instant, blurring your vision in a way that's either rooted in anger or heartbreak. "I'm honest with you about this, and after everything, it's just... goodbye?"

Din looks back down at his boots. His modulated voice is so low, you nearly miss it. "It's for the best."

"You don't even have to feel the same way. I don't give a shit anymore." Your tears dissipate from the heat of your anger as you go on. "But for you to just assume you can put an end to this, to our partnership—whatever the hell it is—in an instant is something I won't allow. After all this time, Din? Really?" You close the distance towards him and jab your finger against his beskar cuirass. "I dropped everything to be with you! Everything!"

"I—."

"No. It's my turn to say no." Your finger taps the bottom of his helmet, urging him to face you. You can only hope he feels ashamed at the pure fury in your gaze. "You don't have to feel the same, but I know you do, because you've told me. You didn't have to use your words to do that. I'm not a fool, Din, and that's one of the reasons why you love me so much."

You give Din a moment to say something, but he doesn't. He's frozen in place, and you take that as your cue to go on.

"You've let me stay, and that alone says more than you ever could with your words. You never stay in one place, or with one person, for long—and that's something you have told me."

You furrow your brow, now painting on all the genuine longing you feel towards him.

"All I want is to the live the life we have together the way we want. No more holding back. No more dancing around the spark that's been there since the beginning. Just you and me." You search his visor the best you can, your voice lowering to a whisper. "Don't you want the same?"

Din's armored shoulders rise in a visible breath, though all other parts of him remain still. After a long moment, he speaks, his voice just as soft as your own. "There is nothing in this galaxy I want more than that." He sounds wounded as he goes on. "But just like with the kid, I've learned that I can't have what I want if it means someone will get hurt, or if there's something or someone better for them."

Din exhales, a broken sound that makes you physically resist the urge to hold him. His helmet looks away from you again.

"I'm used to it. And one day, I'll be okay with it."

You take a gentle hold of his helmet, making his visor face you again. Your thumbs brush over his beskar cheeks. "Well, I'm not." You lift your brow at him. "Do I get to have a choice?"

Din's gloved hands wrap around your wrists. "I would never take your freedom away from you."

"Then I'm making the choice to love you, and that includes everything that comes along with you. The bad, the good, I don't care, Din." You give his helmet a gentle shake. "I know what I signed up for. I've known." You lower his helmet to your forehead. "I'm all yours, Din, if you want me."

Din's hands slowly slide from your wrists towards your face. He gives his helmet an aimless shake, asking his question as if he can't fathom the thought of it happening. "And what if something happens to you?"

You smile with the most reassurance you can muster, whispering the words he holds close to his chest. "This is the Way."

Din pauses for a moment, then—in the slowest and most tender way possible—he pulls you into his embrace. His arms support your back and keep you tight against him, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your eyes close as you bury your face in his shoulder, each broken fragment of your heart piecing back together at the warmth of his affection.

After silence persists for longer than you can handle, you dare to ask the question that's holding the last piece of your heart back. "Do you want me to—."

"—Stay." Din answers the question before you can ask it, his voice a desperate plea. "Please."

You smile and hold him tighter. "I always will."

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

[astroyongie]

Seventeen: They Text You One Month After Your Death

Note: heavy angst and mentions of S* Scoups

"Wake up y/n and stay with me"  "I swear to god that right now, I need you here"  "I need you to stay strong baby.. Can you yell those words at me again please?"  "Ever since you left i try to remind me where I came from and where I belong, but without you i feel so lost in this earth"  "So wake up y/n.. and stay with me"

Wonwoo

"Its been a month already y/n.. do you remember, summer after high school, when we first met?"  "We maded out in my car and on my 18th birthday, we got those stupid matching tattoos. I still cry when i look at mine"  "do you remember when we used to steal your parents' liquor and go to your room? we spoke about our future like we had a clue you would leave me"  "fuck i never planned that one day I would be losing you. Why did you got to leave?"  "In another life y/n, I would be your husband and we both could keep all our promises of being happy together"

Mingyu

"I've been holding my breath each time i think of you"  “Wonwoo told me he put lillies on your tomb today. Sorry. didn't come, I've been holding back tears ever since that day"  "I miss you so much y/n"  "I've done a lot of things wrong, but i swear loving you was never one"

Vernon

"y/n"  "I can't imagine a world with you gone and yet here we are. Fuck i am still in denial"  "I have always said i would be so lost if you left me alone in this fucked up world"  "I can't stop crying"  "the images of you locked in the bathroom, lying on the floor when I broke through"  "and i pulled you y/n, did you felt me? did you heard me y/n? I pull you in to feel your heartbeat and i couldnt hear a damn thing"  "did you hear me screaming?"  "Please don't leave me"

Hoshi

"It's not true. Even today i can't accept that its true"  "y/n, please tell me I've been lied to, that you are still here, that you are still alive and well somewhere"  "Crying isn't like me, but i didn't stop ever since you left"  "What the hell did I do?"  "I love you but I don't want to"  "this hurts so much"

The8

"Hey y/n how have you been? Have you been sleeping well? have you been eating well?"  "I hope you are wearing that hoodie i gave you. I am wearing the one you gave me. as a matter of fact i dont have the heart to remove it"  "I hope you bribed the door on your way to the sky. I know god wouldnt mind it"  "y/n wait for me yeah? I miss you. Dont cry for me. The end is near”

Jun

"Hey y/n"  "sorry i am only talking to you now.. ah, i may have fucked up ahah"  "I am currently laying in the silence, waiting for the sirens of the ambulance"  "yeah.. i fucked up.. but i missed you so much"  "I'm alive still.."  "I don't wanna lose it but i cant bare being apart from you"  "but I'm not getting through this.. y/n what should i do?"  "should I pray? to whom? to myself? to a God?"  "y/n.. help me"

Dino

"miss your touch every nights y/n.. lately i have been feeling a little hollow. And you how have you been feeling?"  "I know you crossed the bridge that I can't follow, but hey brat, you could have said goodbye"  "but now we cant change the past.. the love that you left is all that I get"  "I want you to know that, if I can't be close to you, I'll try settle for the ghost of you"  "I miss you more than life"

Woozi

"I am sorry i keep texting you. i just hate you so much right now.” ”never saw it coming, I couldn't read the signs that you werent okay and fuck this.. i hate myself"  "Now I know that it means nothing"  "you are always on my mind y/n"  "the others are trying to tricked into believing that everything will work out in the end"  "fuck them. You were the only one for me"

Joshua

"Hey baby how are you? I am not doing good ahah.."  "All I want is nothing more but too hear you knocking at our appartment door"  "if I could see your face once more y/n, I could die a happy man"  "When you said your last goodbye that night, when that fucking disease took you, i swear to all angels I died a little bit inside"  "y/n, i miss you so much and all i do is lay in tears in bed"  "I never felt so alone"  "But if you loved me, why you leaved me?"

Jeonghan

"Yo brat.." “Woozi and Joshua made me text you.. tsk they are idiots.."  "but hey brat.. you were the light to my shadow, did you know?"  "fuck god to take my star. another star they say, fuck them. you are fading away in my memory"  "Where are you now brat? Are you okay?"  "Please... y/n."

DK

"y/n I think I lost myself again"  "But I remember you told me to stay strong and Seungkwan has been nagging me to eat more"  "But I wish you would be the one telling me that"  "y/n tell me why our love is six feet under ground? Are you cold down there?"  "I will go to your grave tomorrow.. Wonwoo told me to watered the Dahlias"  "Would they bloom?"  "It's all too much for me"  "How could you die carelessly? Whos gonna take care of my heart now?"

Seungkwan

"Hey baby"  "i decided to text you bc sunday mornings were your favorite and we used to meet with the gang"  "your last sunday you did your hair up, you looked so pretty"  "y/n, I have been screamin at a God for the past weeks"  "I'm still holding on to everything, I don't wanna say goodbye bc this one means forever"  "I don't want to say goodbye so please.. come back to me"

[anime-fan-05]

Heiii, sono ancora io!

Mi è piaciuto un botto quello che hai scritto per la mia richiesta

Puoi fare degli headcanon del quartetto dei primi anni di Karasuno, Noya, Oikawa, Kuroo, Lev, Tendo, Goshiki e Tsumu con una fidanzata molto piccola (tipo 1,40 o 1,45)?

Grazie

Haikyuu!! ~With a short reader 1st part~

Manga/anime: Haikyuu!!

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

As usual, I divided the request into two parts: 2nd part is here.

Hinata S.

He feels so high when he's with you!

He always claims to have fallen in love with you since your first meeting: one day, while running (he was late for training with his team), he bumped into you, knocking you to the ground; then, he stopped to help you, but by mistake he said: "You're so tiny..."; he didn't mean to be mean, and he was about to apologize, but the words got stuck in his throat after hearing you mutter: "You're the one who's tall"; that day he arrived at training not only late, but also red as a tomato

Despite the first words he told you, he thinks your height is very cute and, above all, perfect for him, since you've the right height to fit in his arms: in fact, he loves to hug you, cuddle you, or just have your body against his in some way

He'll never tease you about your height and, if someone does so, he'll run up to them and yell at them to stop (like he did to defend Kiyoko from Terushima)

He loves picking you up, especially while you kiss; sometimes he also does so to greet you after you haven't seen each other for a long time: he picks you up and turns you around, then he kisses you

Kageyama T.

The first time he met you, he was struck by your cuteness: when he had to introduce himself to you, his voice was trembling and he almost mispronounced his name (he really wanted to bury himself out of embarrassment); furthermore, he was terribly blushing and felt as if he was about to fall to the ground

When you two go out together, he's very careful not to lose you in the crowd, especially if there are a lot of people: he stands next to you and always holds your hand, not without blushing, to guide you

Once he lost sight of you in a store and got very worried; he looked for you in every lane, he was desperate, until he heard the loudspeaker: "Mr. Kageyama Tobio, come to cashier 12. We've found your daughter."; he tried not to laugh all the way home

His favorite thing to do is rest his head on yours, as your height is perfect for him to lean over, while hugging you from behind (because otherwise you would see his face red)

If he sees you cheering for him during a game, he'll feel very excited; if you even wore his jersey, he would literally die of embarrassment (Tsukishima will never let him forget it) and work even harder

Tsukishima K.

Whenever he can, he teases you a lot: he never misses an opportunity to do so, either through his gestures (for example by resting his arm on your head as if it were an armrest), or with words ("Oh? Sorry, I didn't see you, you're too small.")

Furthermore, speaking of words, he comes up with every nickname having to do with short for you: "chibi" (small) or "chibi-chan", "my little one" (with great emphasis on little)...

However, if someone makes fun of you, he stands to his full height and glares at him: he's the only one who can tease you

If you wear his clothes, which are literally huge on you, he takes the opportunity to tease you about your height, but he only does it to prevent you from noticing his embarrassment; if you also puff out your cheeks or pout in irritation, he'll have to cover the lower part of his face with one of his hands to prevent you from seeing his deep blush

One thing that amuses him a lot is when you try to kiss him, but of course you can't do it if he doesn't lean down ("Oh? Are you too short to reach me, chibi-chan?" "Shut up and lean down so I can kiss you, dummy!")

Yamaguchi T.

If you play with his hands and compare them with your smaller ones, he'll melt and blush very heavily; nevertheless, he loves holding your hands, precisely because they're much smaller than his

When he sees you in his clothes, especially in his team jersey, he gets so embarrassed he has to put his hands in front of his face or hide it in other ways; the first time he saw you like that, he fainted for a few minutes and, after he recovered, he couldn't look at you for fear of becoming dazed looking at your cuteness

He'll also die of embarrassment if you grab him by the collar of his shirt or the tie to lower him to your height and kiss him

Although he's a really shy person, I think there are moments when he becomes more bold and courageous: one of those is if someone makes fun of you (really, he totally transforms into another person and yells at them you're perfect just the way you're)

Some are subtle moments where he playfully teases you, but he stops as soon as he notices you're offended or saddened; others happen when he spontaneously picks you up to help you reach overhead objects you can't reach on your own or when you kiss

Nishinoya Y.

Since he isn't the tallest, and sometimes he felt bad about it, he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or sad about your height: if you were ever unhappy due to that, he, unexpectedly serious, would take your hands in his, whispering softly to you you're perfect just the way you're

Instead, if he were the one who hurt you, he would literally kneel at your feet begging you for forgiveness

He loves when you see each other after a long time and you run towards him and jump on him, holding him like a koala; he always grabs and spins you around a couple of times, and then he kisses you

Since sometimes neither you nor he can reach objects too high up on the shelves, he lifts you up to get them; one day, he did a really stupid thing: he took you on his shoulders, but unfortunately he slipped and you both fell to the ground (obviously he broke your fall and you didn't hurt yourself)

One day, during the time out of a match during which he wasn't in perfect shape, he saw you in the stands cheering him on while wearing his jersey; from that moment on, in that match no ball touched the ground in Karasuno's field

Here we are: it's been exactly a year since my first post. I wanted to thank all my followers: thanks to all of you for following me, for reblogging, voting and commenting on my posts, thanks to you my account lives!

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3934

You never set foot in King’s Landing before.

Not before the exile of your family almost a century ago.

The Marthryralys were once the most trusted advisors of the Targaryens. 

Until your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys sided with the false king, King Maegor. He had been burned after Maegor had died, and your family was banished out of King’s Landing, and the Seven Kingdoms. 

For years you lived across the narrow sea, in a small village in Pentos together with your brother and the heir of your house, Prince Fryand Marthyralys. He has everything you can expect in a trueborn Valyrian prince. Silver hair, bright eyes in a shade almost close to violet and a temper befitting a god, not an exiled prince.

‘’Chin up, sister.’’ He tells you with a smirk as you pass by several nobles and guards, servants and maids alike who all stare at you with judgment. They likely heard stories about your family. Stories of their treason and kinslaying murder and pillaging. ‘’Remember what I told you earlier this morning. Today is the day our family’s legacy will be reborn.’’ That is what he hopes. You hope your brother achieves this alliance. For as long as you can recall he wanted this.

Fyrand sighs before perfecting your hair, putting a loose lock behind your ears. “You be quiet unless I allow it. If you ruin this for me, the consequences could be dire. For both of us, but especially for you.” The glare he gives you says enough. You give an absent nod, staring at your own bitten down fingernails. Fyrand follows your gaze, scoffing with a deep sigh. ‘’And quit that. I didn’t keep you alive all these years so you can fuck this up.’’

The grant doors to the throne room are opened by guards and someone announces to you both as you hesitantly follow your brother. ‘’Lord Fyrand of House Marthyralys, and his sister, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys.’’ It is one of the few times you hear yourself being called a lady, or even your first name. Fyrand does not bother with kindness and ceremony. He calls you whatever he likes, especially when he is drunk and in a bad mood.

By the throne, several people with silver hair wait. Yet you can easily divide them into two groups. One group wears subtle or not so subtle green accessories. And the other group wears about any other color but green. The Princess's party and the Queen's party. You know this from what Fyrand briefly told you about the Targaryens. The two parties do not like each other very much. Details are vague to you, as Fyrand didn’t want ‘’to corrupt your moral compass with nonsense that is none of your business anyway’’.

You know they are the royal family of Westeros. The Targaryens. Once close friends of your family, now look at you both. You do not know these people and they do not know you. They stare at you with the same confusion and questions you have deep down. You see it mirrored in their eyes and their hearts they carry on their sleeves. You keep your eyes on your soft slippers and faithfully remain close to your brother, afraid of these strange people. They killed your parents. They killed your ancestors. They killed your dragons. ‘’Your grace.’’ Fyrand speaks, full of servitude as he bows down for the silver haired corpse like man that sits the throne.

Or rather the throne sits him. The throne is a monstrosity in the worst way of the word. It does not look like a comfortable chair to you. Perhaps that is what it symbolizes. That ruling is no comfortable chair. It is not easy. It requires sacrifice, usually the worst kind. The kind where lives are lost and doomed.

The smell of poppy is heavy near the king and you assume he uses it regularly to dull his pain. He hangs half defeated, half consumed by the Stranger on his throne, his glare growing every minute that passes when you both are here. You continue ripping your nails subtly. 

‘’We let traitors in now?’’ A man comments, near who you assume can only be the Princess Rhaenyra. She is described as the most fashionable woman in Westeros, with silver, pale locks she often carries in Targaryen fashion. Her gown symbolizes a dragon, with her house colors, red and black. It has nice details and you take them all in. The man itself has shorter hair than his wife, although Fyrand would say it would still be too long for a male. He carries a sword around his hips, and wears a black armor as well. You guess by his age that this can only be Prince Daemon Targaryen, the King’s brother, the Princess’s her uncle as well as her husband. ‘’These two should be hanged outside and for the birds to peck out their eyes.’’

While you feel fear rise Fyrand laughs it off, as a joke.  The king is not so quick to judge you as his brother. He even smiles at you. ‘’You are the spitting image of your ancestor, Grysalda the Bold.’’ Out of both of you, he chose you to compliment.

Your brother boils in his skin next to you, yet fakes a smile and peacefulness.  ‘’Both fierce and stunning.’’ The King finishes. Grysalda was indeed both fierce and bold. She had a total of five husbands and flew the dragon Gravemaker. There was nothing she couldn't do if she didn't set her mind to it. She was said to be a great beauty. Men fought wars to lay eyes on her, Men conquered towns in her name and men would murder everyone that dared to oppose her. She was an interesting woman, although it is disputed whether or not she was a good one.

You make a small curtsy, swayed by the words yet wary of their meaning. Grysalda was a threat to the Targaryens. Is this a compliment or a very twisted warning? But to not acknowledge such a compliment would be rude. ‘’Thank you, your grace-’’ 

‘’Be quiet, sister.’’ Fyrand interrupts almost mumbling so the others won't hear. You close your mouth right away and let him speak instead. ‘’I have come with an offer for House Targaryen and House Velyaron.” He folds his hands on his back. You wonder if his offer is good enough for an alliance. You know what he will offer. You. He will offer you to one of the Princes of either party and he hopes that in return they will allow him to stay in Westeros.

Prior to this offer, no interest was shown by both parties. This changes instantly. Princess Rhaenyra turns into a woman dressed in Velyaron colors. Princess Rhaenys, you assume. Her granddaughters look on as well and even the Greens on the Queens side are surprised.

King Viserys sits up as straight as his sickness allows him. “You are bold.” You hear your brother laugh. You do not join him, your eyes constantly wandering to the interesting people around you. The princes and the princesses, the Queen and the King and their children.

‘’It is in our blood, I’ve been told by my lovely servants.’’ You think back of all the servants that nurtured you and Fryand when you were safely in Pentos and beyond. You are thankful for them, but there was only so much they could do to protect you from Fyrand. ‘’Since you ordered the death of my parents all those years ago.” Fryand smirks hiding the pain very well. The light in his eyes has died a long time ago. Nothing can bring it back.

The only sound that can be heard is Otto Hightower clearing his throat. “Are you here to dig up the past? I seem to recall your parents were planning my death.’’ The king is right. They were. You were almost a baby when the treason was committed but it was committed nonetheless. Your own mother died in childbirth and your father remarried quickly almost the day after.

You have known your brother for a long time. He is a dramatic man. He enjoys having power and enjoys playing with people. He will not tell them right away. He will toy with them first. ‘’I’m here for no such thing.’’ 

The Princess looks at you, as if you know more of this masterplan. You do, but you do not dare to speak again. ‘’I am here to ally my house with House Targaryen.’’ And with that, he hopes to restore your family’s legacy. All those years of planning in exile, all those years on the run all come down to this crucial moment. Was it enough? Or will you both hang before the sun sets?

‘’And why would we ally you?’’ The King asks, which is reasonable. They have dragons. You do not. They have a kingdom. You do not. You only have a freshly gathered army with questionable loyalties as they fight for gold and power.

Fyrand grins. ‘’It’s quite simple. I have built quite the legendary army, across the Narrow sea, in the Stepstones and far far beyond. Men are calling me Aegon reborn.’’ He grins at Prince Aegon, taunting him with this accomplishment. Aegon does not care, judging by his empty eyes and smile. 

You glance at your brother, giving him a clear look that warns him of the path he is rolling down from. He should not forget you two are both hostages until you can prove you are worthy of this alliance. To make him sound like their beloved ancestor is a mistake, you just know so. 

The king agrees with that as well, sitting up straighter and putting his crown back on his head when it slips. ‘’So you have come to threaten us?’’ 

You pull your nails faster, running out of your left hand. Fyrand chuckles but you can hear he has become nervous too. ‘’Your grace, no! Most certainly not. I came to a conclusion. I could destroy you all, but the chance you all yet survive because of your dragons is …too big for my liking. Why not forget about the past, why not let bygones be bygones. We should ally.’’ He says. 

‘’Bygones be bygones.’’ Viserys repeats after your brother. ‘’And how will I know I can trust your word, if you already have began expanding your army?’’ Even more wary grows and dread fills your stomach. You can already see yourself hanging.

Fyrand gives you a small nod and you step forward, your hands neatly folded on one another as you look around the court for any kind face. But everyone looks at you like you are a traitor. It doesn't matter to anyone that you were a baby when the assassination attempts happened. They think you are just as guilty. ‘’I have brought my sister with me. My pure blooded Valyrian sister. She can stay here as a hostage, perhaps even marry one of your sons or grandsons. There is no need to have her wither away.’’ 

The king rubs at his forehead as if a great pain plagues him. ‘’I do not have time for this.’’ He speaks. You and Fyrand both freeze. He is not even considering your offer. ‘’Escort them to the dungeons.’’ He adds. Fyrand is surrounded within mere moments. 

At first he couldn't believe it. ‘’What?’’ He can’t believe his plan didn’t work. And then the rage you know so well returns. He glares at you as if this is somehow your fault. 

You understand you must act fast. So you do. ‘’Y-Your grace! Wait. One moment…’’ You search in the basket one of your servants brought with you. Fyrand glares, at first annoyed that you search your sewing basket. A few men chuckle as well. 

‘’Is she going to knit her way out of this?’’

You put the wool and spools on the ground, searching deeper in the basket until you feel something cold, something hard and something ancient. You lift it from the basket, presenting it to all witnesses in court. In your hands is a familiar dragon egg. The king blinks with his eyes.

‘’Please, do not harm him. He has all I have left.’’ You add with a soft whisper.

‘’We found a chest full of dragon eggs in Pentos.’’ You hope you do not regret this. Fyrand makes a strangled little sound, briefly causing most heads to snap to him, back to the egg in your hands.

Prince Daemon draws his sword. ‘’Likely dead.’’ They might be. Most might be. Some eggs are centuries old, stolen during the time of Maelor.

You are facing certain death and so is your brother. You do not need this now. ‘’We did not have the resources to try to hatch them. We are no Targaryens.’’ You snap at him. ‘’We were lucky if we could find shelter for the night.’’ 

‘’How many eggs do you speak of?’’ The king asks. You did hope he would be interested. He is interested in dragon eggs. What fool wouldn’t be? You glance at your brother. He shakes his head rapidly.

Yet you go through with your plan. You must.

‘’At least seven and twenty.’’

Several gasps can be heard in the room.

Queen Alicent looks at the egg. ‘’’How did they even got there?’’ She wonders out loud.

A shout sends shivers down your spine. It belongs to your brother.

‘’I warn you, Revaera!’’ He thinks he is the only one who can make sacrifices. You will show him. 

You can either lie and be executed or tell the truth and meet your gods with a true soul.

‘’They were stolen from the cradles of Targaryen babies.’’ You reveal, your head hung in shame with the crimes of your ancestors. Queen Alicent instantly turns her head to a young man on her side, wearing an eyepatch. Even from where you stand you can make out the scars that he likely tries to hide. Princess Rhaenyra, although she may hide it, also glances at the young man, her face full of regret and what could have been.

It is true. For centuries your family stole eggs from the Targaryens, replacing well working eggs with eggs that aren’t working eggs at all. Just stone and clay. You walk to the iron throne, presenting the egg to the king. ‘’This egg, I brought for you, my King. It was stolen a few years ago. It was said to belong to Prince Baelon.’’ You know he died shortly after birth but it is clear that the king has never forgotten his first born son.

His eyes light up in ways you never saw before, as you hand the egg over.

‘’This is impossible. The egg is still here. It is in my room.’’ The Queen lets out a soft but painful sigh as if she tried for years to close a door that is now pushed open wildly. You speak. ‘’No, your grace. They were switched. You have likely fake ones.’’ 

‘’After everything I did for you! You dare betray our family?!’’ Fyrand shouts and this time they need to restrain him from attacking you. You back away, terrified of your brother.

‘’They deserve to know! We were robbing babies.’’ You feel like you are betraying your family. But this might be your only chance at survival. You feel tired, alone, terrified and like this can all end in a moment. You have nothing left to do but break into tears.

‘’They are the reason we grew up without parents, without titles, without dragons!’’

You know he is right. And you wish you could do both but you clearly can not. 

From the crowds, a brown haired young man steps forward, carrying the Velyaron colors. The colors of the sea. ‘’Grandsire, may I speak?’’ That must be Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s ‘trueborn’ son with her lover, Harwin Strong.

The king smiles kindly at his grandson, proud that Jacaerys makes the effort.

‘’You already do so, Jacaerys.’’ He subtly looks at his other two sons, who stand by with rage written in their eyes, both green of envy and red of hatred.

Prince Jacaerys looks at your basket, your gown and the silver diadem in your hairs.

‘’We should ally with them.’’ He says. Hope fills your chest as you carefully start to smile.

Although the King loves his grandchildren very much, he will not let them affect his rule.

‘’Interesting. Explain.’’ He says instead, using this as a lesson. Again you notice his other two sons hide their displeasedness but it's so obvious to you.

The heir of the throne continues.

‘’House Targaryen needs more dragons. We can’t risk it that House Marthryralys will search for other allies. Dragons made us kings. Dragons made us strong. We cannot risk for the dragons falling into other hands.’’ You highly doubt that anyone aside a Targaryen could fly with dragons but with the blood thinning over several bloodlines it has become a risk to them.

‘’That is true.’’ The king admits despite the fact that he does not like you or your brother. He can see reason. That is rare for a king. Especially for a Targaryen king if what you heard from your brother is correct.

Prince Jacaerys becomes bashful, blushing a bit when trying to avoid staring too long at you. ‘’And, I think Lady Revaera has proven herself more than loyal to us, providing this information and the dragon egg. In fact, I was hoping you’d let us marry.’’ Marry? You feel new dread fill your chest as the King considers this offer. Even Fyrand has become awfully quiet. You need to turn your head to see if they didn’t knock him out. But no. He is still awake and awfully quiet.

‘’Not so fast.’’ A voice booms, as a shadow brushes past you, making his way to the Iron throne. The one eyed man stands in front of you. You feel threatened right away and gulp. The way he is dressed in all black is intimidating to you. ‘’I have done my fair bit of research into your family, my Lady.’’ You hear your heart beat only louder.

‘’You have?’’ You manage to ask, forcing your hands to stop trembling.

There is a silence in the throne room as everyone listens to what he has to say.

‘’Quite. You have an interesting story. I like interesting stories.’’ What is so interesting, you wouldn’t know. Your story is a tragedy. Perhaps he likes that. Perhaps his own story is a tragedy as well.

He turns to his father, and you briefly admire his long luscious looking silver pure locks that Jace clearly lacks. ‘’There is an old tradition, Grandsire. If an outsider wants to wed a member of the Marthryralys, he must duel a family member of the Lady to prove his worth.’’ That is true, in theory. But Your only family member is Fyrand. They won’t let their heir fight Fyrand.

And so, the king also speaks.

‘’I will not have Jacaerys fight that deranged man.’’ 

Aemond folds his hands on his back, his grin growing ever bigger. ‘’There is also another rule. If the Lady has multiple suitors, her suitors shall also fight for her and prove their worth. The victor shall become her Lord Husband.’’ You become uncomfortable, as you find it a bit of a silly rule, as well as concerning that he knows a awful lot about your family. 

‘’Why is that needed? I want to marry her.’’ Jace bluntly says, laughing a bit to prove how silly he finds these traditions that your house honored for centuries.

Aemond looks at Jacaerys so he can see his face before he reveals what he was planning all along. ‘’Because I am also quite interested in her, Prince Jacaerys.’’ That sends shivers down your spine.

The King is confused. As are you.

‘’You are?’’ 

Instead of addressing his father and his king, he turns to you to give you a kind, almost the ghost of a smile as if he can hear you think and read your confusion that is written across your face. ‘’Hm. A lady as beautiful as you, I’d fight or die for you anyday.’’ Despite these words he almost seems confident he will win this match. 

–

You visit Fyrand later in the dungeons.

‘’So.’’ He speaks as you have removed your hood. ‘’The Princes both seemed quite taken with you. Job well done.’’ He says, sitting up straighter, talking to you in high Valyrian so the guards won’t hear.

‘’They are eager for wives. It’s their age, I think.’’ Boys and men of that age become that way.

Fyrand chuckles as if you said something funny. He knows more about this than you ever will. ‘’Their age has nothing to do with it. They saw the way you played that fossil with that silly little egg of yours. They know their house is a dying one. The dragons become smaller and smaller still.’’ You heard the same, from your spies.

‘’You were clever, to think of it. To tell them the truth about the eggs.’’ You praise your brother, although you were scared in the moments where you acted out his plan. You had to turn off your emotions and believe that Fyrand would face certain death. 

He bows his head in fake humbleness that does not become him in the slightest.

‘’Certainly. I have my moments. I nearly saw Prince Aemond drool when you presented that egg to that corpse.’’ You bet he did.

You become uneasy as you think of the one-eyed prince.

‘’He scares me.’’ You hope it is enough to call off the wedding part of the alliance.

But instead of that your brother’s smile only grows.

‘’Hm. He should. He is much to be scared of, little sister.’’

He leans in closer, his face close to the bars. ‘’There are rumors he tried to kill his own nephew. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive and has the biggest deadliest dragon in the entire world.’’ You hope he is lying. He has to be. He is describing a true monster.

‘’Aemond will win this duel.’’ He adds, as if it's clear.

‘’How are you certain?’’ Perhaps because Aemond is taller or older or something else you do not see?

He laughs as if you again ask a silly question.

‘’Because I saw both him and Jace fight. It won’t be to death, but just so you know: You will become Aemond’s bride.’’

A terrifying prospect. You did not agree to that.

‘’I thought we would pull the plan before that would happen?’’ You ask, your voice scared.

‘’No, little sister no. This is a long time plan. You just focus on keeping and making Aemond a very happy husband, yes?’’ You feel your air cut off at his horrible description. You see Aemond’s hands on your body and his lips near your neck, slightly brushing it when whispering dirty things in your ear. 

Despite that, your body betrays you lie. ‘’Fyr, I’m scared. I do not wish to-’’ You wet your lips, speechless.

Your brother dryly gestures with the stomp that once had a hand attached to it.

‘’We all must make our sacrifices.’’ He says. You feel guilty. He lost his hand trying to get you to safety. He lost it defending the eggs.  He smiles as you silently cry, accepting your fate. ‘’Now go. I bet they are itching to spill each other’s blood.’’

As always with a new story let me know what you thought of it. Comments reblogs likes are welcome but not required. But they do make me smile:)

[lowkeyrobin]

MONTY FINCH ; just kiss

summary ; basically the edwin & monty swing set scene

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader doesn't know shit about astrology, word vomit

track ; like real people do, hozier

word count ; 951

masterlist

Monty slowly swings himself on the swingset, the metal chain links creaking at every slight movement. He stays low to the ground, feet inches from the dirt below.

You swing beside him, a wired earbud hanging from your right ear, the left open so you could hear him if he spoke. The metal creaking enters your left ear, your music entering the right.

"How do you know so much about astrology?" You ask him, leaning your head against the metal chainlinks on the left. "Like, I obviously don't get it. How and why, like... how does it work?"

He smiles, looking up at you. He rests his hands on the right side's chain link, cozy fingerless gloves protecting him from the cold metal. "Basically, the way the stars align kind of predict fate in people, the way they act and think," He shrugs, trying to give you a basic definition.

"How do zodiac signs work then?" You ask

"Well, it's not like... science-confirmed, actually disproven, but believe what you will. But the constellations in the stars change per every month, aligning to its matching sign. Like, take Edwin for example" He speaks. "He's a Capricorn. They're usually described as ambitious, practical and focused"

"Sounds a lot like him" You shrug. "So it's just kind of a coincidence that you act a certain way with when you were born?"

"Yeah, basically."

You hum.

You're both silent for a moment, trying to find something to turn the conversation too.

"What's it like being a ghost?" He asks. "I know you've been with Charles and Edwin for God knows how long, but, like, what's it like?"

You shrug. "Solving mysteries and supernatural stuff. It's what it sounds like. But being dead is a lot like being alive. Most people just can't see you, you can't feel things, like your sensory skills are broken" You wiggle your fingers, aware that your fingerpads were basically broken. "You don't need to sleep or eat, but you have free will to change clothes"

He nods, following along.

"It doesn't feel the way you'd think it would. You don't know when you die, you just keep on going before you realize no one can see you or you see you're walking outside your body" You continue, "It's like everything always feels like TV static, but after a while you get used to it and it feels like it less and less. But when you're really down and lost, it comes back stronger than ever."

"Sounds like shit"

"It is" You chuckle. "Wish I got to say goodbyes to the people I love. Death is so unexpected but... it's the only thing everyone, everything, on Earth has in common. Death is after us all"

He nods, eyes softened. "You speak very wisely. Not in an Edwin way because you've been dead since the early 1900s. But you know a lot, you're very knowledgeable, you know how to speak your mind"

You softly smile. "Thanks, Monty"

Your faces stand inches apart between the swings, your eyes just examining each other's faces.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have nice hair?" You ask him.

He airily giggles. "No, actually. Thank you. You have nice hair too, for being dead"

"Well, it doesn't grow, so I never have to book an appointment at the ghost barber's," you joke with a giggle. "Another pro of being dead. Less people, more me"

He smiles. "You have a very attractive smile, y'know that?"

You glance away, a little flustered. "Oh, thanks"

He glances between your lips and your eyes, admiring your harmonious features, the way everything you owned made you special and unique. He couldn't imagine you looking any different, you were perfect to him.

That look in his eyes killed you, that smile, God, it was to die for. You'd do anything to just pause time and stare at his little smile, to stare at his infatuated gaze.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before? Or like, before you died?" He asks quietly.

You shake your head no. "Charles said kissing when you're dead is a lot different than when you're alive. I dunno what he meant by it though"

"Wanna figure it out?"

Your lips curl into a smile, which you'd failed to keep contained. You snicker, looking away for a moment.

"You seem very desperate, Monty"

"I am," He admits. "You're very attractive. We should just kiss, like normal people do."

You roll your eyes before quickly leaning toward him, pulling yourself closer. You place your hands on the sides of his face, your thumbs and index fingers against the sides of his ears. He rests his left hand against your neck, his right hand on top of your left hand.

His lips tasted like oranges. He smelled like cucumbers and eucalyptus leaves. He was soft and warm, like fresh baked cookies. You didn't know if kissing was like this when you were alive, but when you were dead, you noticed every small thing, you could feel him, like his aura was rolling off his skin and burying itself inside you. It did so like it was trying to make sure you couldn't pull away, so you'd just fall in love with him on the spot.

He pulls away to breathe, something you didn't need. He looks up at you, scanning your face like he was attempting to read your expression.

"You taste like oranges," you comment. "But, like... do you feel every single thing when you kiss me? Like I could feel your feelings, if that makes sense"

He shakes his head no. "That's cool" He smiles. "Being dead sounds really cool"

"Don't say that"

"Oh, sorry"

"I'm fucking with you. C'mere"

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 16

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Hope you guys are excited, we are about to start diving into Ophelia's signet! Let me know your thoughts on what you think it could be!

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

As I dismount Mealladh after finishing flight training for the day, I hear Tairn growl. So loud to ground shakes slightly. I look up to see his eyes trained on someone. Dain. And he looks angry, more so than usual. Tairn clearly does not like the sight of him as he bares his teeth at him, saliva pooling on the ground beneath him.

Remind me to never annoy you. I say to Mealladh through the bond.

She chuckles. I will never get that angry at you unless you do something stupid. Which I highly doubt.

My bond with Mealladh was getting strong quickly. We could easily communicate with each other, shield each other out with ease. Even without having taken a single Signet Training class. So far the only one in our squad to show a signet had been Sawyer. He could control metal. Nearly took his opponents arm off in challenges when it manifested. Ridoc had told us the story over one of our meals. He thought it was the coolest thing he had ever seen. When would I get my signet? What would it be? They always said the signet represented the rider. Something about their personality or something to aid them. Something they needed. Every time I had tried to think about what it could be I came up short.

Rhiannon appears next to me as Dain slowly approaches Violet. “What do you think that’s about?”

I shake my head. “No idea. But Dain looks angry and Tairn does not look pleased about it.”

”No he does not.” We both laugh.

As it was our last class of the day we were waiting for Violet. All of us usually headed back to the dorms together before . As Tairn takes off Violet looks over to us and motions for us to leave. She had obviously agreed to talk to Dain.

”Have they talked since threshing?” I ask Rhiannon as we start to walk back down to the Quadrant, Ridoc and Sawyer not far ahead.

She shakes her head. “Don’t think so. She hasn’t mentioned if he has. And she would have.”

I nod. “That could be an interesting conversation they’re about to have then.”

”I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that one.” She adds with a smirk.

”Definitely. He says one wrong thing and she’s gonna rip into him.”

As if on queue I hear loud voices behind me. I turn my head to see they’ve barely made it a few steps and she is already angry at him. Poor boy. But he did this to himself. He’d been trying to baby her, send her to the scribes where he thought she belonged. But Violet had been thriving here despite her the limitations of her body. Hell she had bonded the strongest dragon in the Quadrant. Hell she had gotten two dragons. Something no one had ever seen before. And yet he still saw her as this poor frail girl that needed protection. I was thankful Garrick and Xaden had pretty much looked past that with me. I had made sure to prove I was not the girl they left behind in Aretia. I had grown, I had changed. I had adapted to survive. Not that I had much choice. Though I probably could have refused and ended up dead or locked in a cell. I chose the option that kept me alive. The option that got me back to my family, and as close to home that I could get.

The afternoon sun blinds me for a moment as we walk into the courtyard, busy with other riders now that classes are out for the day. I feel that familiar feeling and look over to see Xaden and Garrick leaning against the Academic Building, as if watching over their domain. Their eyes immediately meet mine.

”So what’s going on with you and Tavis?” Asks Ridoc as we stop just inside the courtyard, waiting for Violet to catch up. “Made it official yet now you’ve done the deed.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

Rhiannon groans and rolls her eyes at him. “Really? You still call sex the deed? How old are you again?”

”Hey I was just trying to be more subtle about it in case anyone was listening.” He defends with his hands raised.

”Then don’t ask in a courtyard filled with almost the entire quadrant?” I bite back a laugh at her sassy remark.

”It’s fine Rhi. But if you must know, not yet.” I tell him bluntly.

”Was-”

”And I am not telling you details.” I say as I cut him off causing Sawyer and Rhiannon to laugh at his annoyed face.

Violet storms into the courtyard, clearly not pleased after her conversation with Dain. I laugh as she looks over at Xaden and gives him the middle finger as he arches an eyebrow at her. He can probably sense her mood through the bond. His gaze flickers to Dain who walks through the archway looking sorry for himself.

”Everything all right?” Rhiannon asks as she walks up to us.

”Dain is an ass -”

”MAKE IT STOP!” Someone screams as they run down the steps at an alarming speed, holding his head between his hands as if he was in pain. Not if. He was in pain.

I don’t know his name, but I know he’s one of the first years in third wing. He sits near us in battle brief.

“For gods, sake, make it stop!” He screams again, stumbling into the courtyard.

Every rider is on alert. Hands hovering over weapons ready to attack. Mine move to the daggers on my thighs. Next to Violet I see Xaden and Garrick move forward in a defensive stance, ready to jump in at a moments notice. The riders slowly creep forward, a circle forming around him. He was manifesting his signet. And something in my gut told me it wasn’t good.

”Jeremiah!” A cadet shouts as they rush forward.

”You!” He yells as he spins towards a third year, pointing his finger at him. “You think I’ve lost it!” The way his eyes flare and the tilt of his head, I don’t blame the third year. All of us are thinking it. “How does he know? He shouldn’t know!”

That’s when it clicks. He’s inntinnsic. The one signet that means instant death. All of our thoughts are open to him. And the thought makes my blood turn cold.

”And you!” He spins around, this time to a second year. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?”

He spins towards Dain. “Is Violet going to hate me forever? Why can’t she see that I just want to keep her alive? How is he…? He’s reading my thoughts!”

I have to give Jeremiah some credit. He mimicked Dain’s tone almost perfectly. I look over at Violet to see she looks just as terrified as the rest of us. Xaden and Garrick step forward, shoving Ridoc aside as they move up next to Violet and I who were at the front of our group. Everyone grasps their weapons as Jeremiah unsheathes his shortsword.

”Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!” He’s panicking.

”Xaden. You need to do something.” I say sternly, dagger now gripped in my right hand.

He nods before turning to Violet. “Start mentally reciting whatever bookish shit you’ve learned.”

She looks at him confused.

He looks at both of us. “If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now.”

Shit. I quickly slam up my shield as hard as I can. Try to recite what ever useless information I can as well.

”And you!” My heart drops as his eyes lock onto Garrick. “Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about Are-” He barely gets his sentence out before Xaden’s shadows wrap around his mouth, silencing him.

All I can do is stare at Jeremiah. To anyone else Are could have been anything. Could have been any word. But with Xaden’s reaction, I know its not nothing. Something in my heart knows what he was about to say. He was about to say Aretia. My home. Our home. That was destroyed years ago. But why would Garrick have been thinking about it.

Something tugs in my mind. And it isn’t Mealladh. It’s as if something else is there. I focus how Melgren had taught me. I’m in the courtyard back in Aretia. My home. To my left is the throne room door, where I can see Mealladh’s red and white presence glowing around the door I’ve shut off. But at the end of the courtyard is something else. Another presence wrapped in… black shadows? Just like Jeremiah was now. Something in me is calling to pull at it, investigate. I feel my left hand twitch as if wanting to tug on it. I’m so focused on it I don’t even see the professor rush towards Jeremiah. My left hand flexes as my mind tugs on the presence in my courtyard in my head. But as I do so the professor grips his head and a crack echoes off the walls. But I hear it louder in my head as the presence disappears as well as the shadows. Everyone’s so focused on the professor and Jeremiah to notice my recoil. Everyone except for two. As I snap out of it I look over to see Xaden and Garrick staring at me wide eyed. Their eyes darting between me and the floor. Underneath my foot is a deep but short crack. One that was definitely not there before. I can tell from the slight scorch mark and power radiating from it. They go to start towards me but I push through the crowd and use my size to get away before they can get to me. Yet again I am running away as Garrick calls my name from behind me. Part 17 Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta

[awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce]

Peace At Last

A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)

Let me know what you think!

Read on ao3

Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t

Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N

(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)

They bumped into each other.

Literally.

He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.

This was almost the end.

He could feel it.

He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.

Not yet.

He had one more stop.

He wanted to be near where she lived.

He just wanted to be near her.

One last time.

He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.

It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?

Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.

Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.

“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.

“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)

He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.

“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.

He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.

“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.

She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.

“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”

He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”

She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.

“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.

He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.

“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.

She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.

They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.

His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.

He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.

“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.

He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.

“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.

“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.

He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.

He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break

She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.

“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.

“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.

He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.

He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.

The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She stepped back and smiled brightly at him

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.

He was frozen.

Did she just-?

Could she-?

No.

She couldn’t remember him.

Could she?

His brain was working faster than normal.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.

She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.

He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.

The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.

Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.

Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.

Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.

Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.

At last.

~ A few streets away ~

“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.

Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.

[fleurriee]

 Ummm Hi I'm sending in this request before the population of fandom for avatar dies out completely can I ask for something that is so cute. Like shy reader who really likes neteyam but is to nervous to ever say anything about it and she's kind of singled out a lot and has little friends ( but her and neteyam are cordial with each other ) She goes to a gathering and is the only one who notices that neteyams stress and frustrated despite the festives and approaches him shyly with an offer to help “ i just want to be used by you tonight. can i be your personal toy? “ pls considered and thank you for still posting avatar also your a great writer

wooooo to be the one to help nete relieve some stress.... i loved this one, so thank u for sending it in!! hopefully the population of the fandom doesn't die out too much lmao... but, tysm, ily anonie <3

pairing ; neteyam x fem!reader

summary ; you take in into your hands to help neteyam relieve some of his stress and frustration.

themes ; talks of smut, tiniest amount of fluff possible, shy!reader/lonesome!reader

You’ve never been good with friends.

After all the time, you guess there’s just something about you that rubs others the wrong way, causing them to flee in the opposite direction quickly, before you can attempt to cling on to them.

Maybe that was it - maybe you came off too desperate, wanting just one friend who understood you completely, who would be by your side for all the good and bad. Maybe you were seeking it too eagerly; maybe you just needed to let it happen gradually.

The closest you’d got to a friend was arguably Neteyam Sully, Toruk Makto’s eldest son and future Olo’eyktan of the clan. But, the most you’d even really been was cordial with him, smiling and greeting one another in passing. Still, he was the only one who would meet your eye for longer than two seconds.

A part of your brain raged at you that it was just him being nice, just him wanting to make a good reputation for himself, seeing as he would be leading all of you when the time came later on down the line. And, that did make sense, but your optimistic side, the one that won out more often than not, told you he might secretly enjoy your company, that he didn’t just think of you as another random Na’vi.

You kept that particular thought in your head every time you looked in his direction… more so than ever now that the gathering was in full swing.

So much was happening, you weren’t entirely sure where to look - Na’vi were lingering within every corner of the surrounding area, each of them chattering away to their own family and friends, boisterous laughter spilling from them until you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

Making your way around people, trying your best to not bump into anyone and apologising to those that you did, you let your eyes flicker around to whoever they did. Your parents had actively forced you further out into the open, hoping that by doing so, it might help you interact with more Na’vi that were your age. But, looking out at the sea of people now, you couldn’t help but believe there was no worse idea than this one.

And, then, your eyes flew over him - Neteyam Sully. He’s standing towards the edge of the entire crowd, all alone as his own gaze flickers across everyone. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his brows are pinched, eyes slightly lowered. Even from a distance, it’s obvious he’s not enjoying himself.

The stress and frustration is emitting from him, lingering within the air and filtering within your own system, until you feel like it’s your job go to comfort him. Maybe this was the opening your parents had wanted for you - maybe you should take it with both hands and run with it.

So, with your heart on your sleeves as it pounded within its ribcage, excitement pounding within you at the thought of your offer you were going to give him, you made your way over to him.

He hadn’t noticed you coming until you were stood just in front of him, a shaky smile on your lips in spite of your nerves. When he spotted you, you noticed his shoulder had relaxed a little, looking down upon you with a welcoming smile of his own. “Hey…”

“Hi,” you spoke quickly, trying to muster the courage you needed for this next comment of yours, knowing it would definitely help him relax, “you didn’t really looking like you’re enjoying yourself…”

Neteyam chuckled at your words, shaking his head, but still looking fondly at you. “You could say that.”

Swallowing deeply, you sent him another timid smile, fingers beginning to fiddle with one another and stepping closer to him, making sure only he could hear your next words. “Well,” you started, “why don’t you… use… me?” you paused, gauging for a reaction, watching his ears perk up extremely high on his head, his tail starting to flick. “I mean, you can take it out on me… I can be your personal toy…?”

Your last sentence came out as more of a question, swallowing your heart in your throat. Just seconds away from deciding to turn back with your tail between your legs and embarrassment flushing your cheeks, he reached out for one of your arms, licking his lips and putting his fangs on display. There was a new twinkle in his eyes now, one that definitely had your stomach tingling with further desire.

“You gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?” he asked, voice suddenly rough and low in comparison to the happier one he’d had earlier.

With a tight grip on your wrist, not letting you even think about leaving him now you had him excited and aroused, you knew you’d made the right decision to finally come out of your comfort zone and wrap yourself lovingly around Neteyam Sully.

[we-were-beautiful]

Marry me

Xaden x Sorrengail!oc

WC: 816

Warnings: None just Fluff

A/N: Well I decided to take part in a small writing Challenge. I had fun writing this little blurb and while it has the potential to turn into its own series; I am going to show self restraint by not doing that. The prompt was "I can never say 'no to you" From Jana over at @creativepromptsforwriting

Also fair warning; I didn't send this to any of my betas. So we die like men at this point

Thank you to @skyfallscotland and @justallihere for putting together the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash

Last but not least tumbr is being dumb and won’t let me post from my laptop so apologies about the formatting

“We should get married” I comment wrapping my arms around my beloved’s shoulders, fingers gently tracing along the scars at the top of his shoulders. I look up into his gold flecked onyx eyes and smile widely at him. Was the flight field after lessons the best place to have this conversation, probably not, but I couldn’t help myself. It had been an interesting lesson with a storm about to roll in; the thunder off in the distance rolling. But now with the rest of the third years and Professor Kaori heading back to the citadel, I figured given Xaden a small heart attack would be fun.

Where I would expect to see shock and hesitance on his face I only see a fond smile as he wraps his arms around my waist to pull me into his chest.

“When do you want to get married and how do you want to tell your mother and sisters?” I hadn’t thought of that.

It would be pretty easy to tell Violet. If I could get her away from her squad it would be as simple as that. Mira I could just write a letter too. Shed be pissed at first; she had specifically told me to stay away from Xaden. That didn’t work out since we ended up in the same squad with mated dragons; but Mira could get over it. She’d be happy for me eventually.

My mother; however, I completely forgot about. General Sorrengail hadn’t been a fan of the relationship and she had made it known to me once the word had made it to her office. That had been the only time I had formally gotten called to her office to make her displeasure known; but its been three years. Xaden and I work well together and we have been in love with each other for awhile now. Not to mention we are kinda stuck with each other until one of us dies so at one point or another she’s just going to have to learn to live with it.

I feel Tairn’s amusement in the back of my mind. The old curmudgeon had been riding my ass this last week about acting like a love sick puppy around Xaden. Like his grumpy ass isn’t the exact same way around Sgaeyl.

‘I heard that’ the rumbling voice flows through my head.

‘You were supposed to.’ I felt Tairn’s snout push at my back sending me further into Xaden’ s grasp ‘Tairn!!!’ I can hear Sgaeyl chuckle in my head.

‘I think I shall go get some sheep’ I’m not sure if it is the mighty beat of our dragons wings or thunder, but as the two dragons fly off the heavens open up above us and cold rain begins to pour down. Xaden lets out a hearty laugh squeezing me tightly.

“When do you want to get married love.” He leans down to whisper in my ear repeating his earlier question.

“Want to grab Garrick, Bodhi, Liam and Vi and sneak down to Chantara.” I would do it; grab our family and secretly get married today if he agreed.

“How about we wait until graduation. We can get our family together, before we fly to our post, and have a small ceremony.” He pushes a soaked strand of hair away from my face. “Then it gives you time to let Mira know, so she can try and get leave” leave it to this perfect man to remember that I wanted Mira there when I got married. While Brennen had Mom and Violet had Dad it had been Mira and I against the world. I still had all of the letters we had wrote to each other while she was in the quadrant and then when I started second year. She had to be there on our special day; she would kill me if I ran off today and got married.

“Ok Graduation it is then.” He looks even more breathtaking in the rain as water droplets roll down his skin.

“Alright then lets go Mrs.Riorson.” He lets go of me and moves towards the hidden tunnel entrance.

“Wait.” I call grabbing his hand to stop him. “Kiss me?” Is it cheesy and straight out of the romance books that I brought into the quadrant, yes. But I had always wanted to be kissed in the rain.

“Have I ever been able to say ‘no’ to you.” He gently cradles my face in his hands tilting my face upwards; his lips crash into mine is a passionate kiss. It starts out innocent enough but my hands quickly find their way to his hair and one of his finds its way to my ass. When we break apart we are gasping for breath; Xaden rest his forehead against mine and hazel eyes meet onyx “Marry me?”

“Yes.” I laugh and pull him into another kiss.

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

The Last Magic In the World

Here is a little bit of a break from my usual smutty writings and working on something a little more whimsical. I have wanted to do something like this with a unicorn for a while now. I didn't know how I wanted to work on it this one came pretty close.

Hope you guys enjoy this one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world was once a magical place. Great mages channeled the energies of the land through them to enforce their will over the natural law. Yet over a thousand years ago, the magic faded from memory. Now in the isolated kingdom of Silvaros dwelled the last the world knew of great mages. Their magic never died out.

But now was the time for an ancient ritual. It was to be carried out in an enchanted forest with the border of the castle's land. The forest was dense with a magical miasma turning wayward invaders and trespassers away. Only once every eighty years did the miasma fade for their ritual to commence. The mages ventured deeper into the forest, the key to their ritual - the vibrant and lovely Princess Filianore.

Princess Filianore was led into the boundary of the forest she was always told never to cross. She was dressed in a beautiful white gown, large and flowing she felt out of place amongst the tatter robes and tarnished armor of her entourage. She was led under the guidance of two of the palace's mages, followed by only one knight to protect them. Tension crackled in the air. Though the sun sank behind the trees, the forest glimmered with an otherworldly glow.

As they approached the altar, whispers seemed to echo all around them.

"Your Highness," the voice was from the first mage, "You must wait here, we cannot assist you any further."

"Am I going to die?" Her gentle voice quivered

"No, my princess. Should the ritual be refused? You will be returned to the palace." the knight spoke out

"And if I'm chosen?" Filianore asked worriedly

"Then we are unsure if you will return." The second mage said

Dread showered over the youthful Filianore.

“I'm sorry princess," The knight said, she could hear great sorrow in his voice.

The entourage that led her to this altar had left.  Filianore's heart was racing. She had only ever heard whispers and rumors of what lay within this enchanted section of the forest. Her hands were shaking. She grasped them together in a prayer-like gesture.

The altar behind her, built of ancient stones long since weathered over the centuries. She could see it cloaked in green slowly being overtaken by the forest. She took deep breaths, each exhale quivering in her dread. Her mind filled with questions: was this really what she was born to do?  Would this be where her story ends? She pondered her destiny.

The softest rustle of leaves behind her filled her with dread. Should she look? Was she supposed to stay in this position? She could hear numerous footsteps getting closer to her. She closed her eyes tightly trying to keep them shut. The breathing of the creature as it came closer. With what little courage she could stand to muster, she peeked. And then she saw the visage of a horse.

White fur, appearing aged and wizened. A frail mane, a brilliant dull glow, and a horn atop its head. Her heart was filled with relief. She was gazing at a unicorn.

Filianore stared in awe. Never had she envisioned such a magical creature to be so grand, imposing, and yet so full of grace even in its appeared old age. She could hardly utter the words. "You're real," 

The unicorn neigh softly as if to show approval.

Filianore felt compelled. She reached out her hand. The Unicorn met her hand gliding its muzzle against her palm. Filianore was lost in such a magical moment. She could feel the unicorn's magic reach into her.  It was like a torrent through every inch of her body. 

Filianore knew of the stories: of how unicorns would make themselves known to pure maidens. She breathed a sigh of relief nearly in tears.  The unicorn's horn glowed a soft blue. Filianore got to her feet. The tip of the unicorn's horn glowed. It drew a great deal of magic at the very tip of its spiral horn. Bowing its head lightly, placing it near her lower stomach.

Filianore felt its magic coursing through her. As the magic coursed through her it filled her mind with the story. It was a story even the mages and her kingdom never knew.

The unicorn was the last son in a long regal equestrian line. Her ancestor, the founder of the kingdom, Godwin the Conqueror, hunted and slew the unicorns to near extinction. It was through Godwin’s firstborn daughter that the pact was made. She willingly came to this place before the stone altar dwelt there. This virgin princess offered herself to continue the progeny of the unicorn and by doing so secure that magic remained in their kingdom. Every eighty years a virgin maiden from the royal line would be brought there to be chosen. Only someone so pure could have brought such a pure creature back from the edge of extinction.

 It was always when the unicorn was near the end of their life. If the maiden were pure without a touch of sin to her heart, they would be chosen to uphold this now ancient agreement. For as long as there was at least one unicorn, then there would always be magic in the world. Thus leading to the great mages of her kingdom. The First Princess would only return a message, that a princess is to be brought to this forest, pure in body, heart, mind, and soul, should this be kept there will always be magic and peace within the kingdom. Any who would return would feel their minds lost in a fog if ever they tried to recount such a magical encounter. 

The visions playing in her head ceased. The wizened unicorn stood in front of her. Tears gently rolled down her cheeks. Filianore could feel the weight building in her lower stomach.

With the unicorn’s magic, Filianore could sense the life growing inside her, planting its roots and beginning to bloom. The intensity of the magic coursing through her took her breath away, and she closed her eyes, her body trembling with anticipation. 

Then, without notice, the magic stopped. Her eyes fluttered open to find the unicorn backing away, watching her with a dark wellspring kike a curtain of a starless sky. Filianore felt magic fill her womb, stirring before beginning to grow. A strange calm swept over her.

Contrary to the panic and dread that she experienced earlier. Filianore didn’t feel an ounce of dread. The magic of this unicorn swept through her, deep within her, she could feel it. A small presence of this new life quickly grew within her womb. In Filianore's heart, she could feel a deep and unfathomable love growing as she witnessed the baby in her growing belly. A peaceful and soothing feeling washed over her; she knew it to be real as she placed her hand against her pregnant belly. She could feel her skin getting tighter, canyons forming beneath her fingertips as her skin stretched to accommodate the foal. Filianore’s belly grew rounder by the minute, she truly was beginning to look pregnant now. She quickly outgrew her gown and her swelling belly tearing through it. The young foal needed to grow a lot before it could be ready to be born.

The foal was growing completely in a matter of moments. Her body was not prepared to handle such weight. Gently she was brought to her knees and her stomach continued to grow. 

The unicorn remained nearby, its eyes peering deeply into the depths of Filianore's soul. A feeling of warmth consumed her heart like a flame as she embraced the gravity of the moment. The unicorn lowered its head, nuzzling her protruding stomach gently. Filianore had rapidly undergone nearly a year of gestation, which could only mean the foal would be arriving soon. 

Feeling the unicorn brush against her bare pregnant belly, made the foal inside squirm. Her skin stretched out. But never did it break, tear, or show signs of damage. The magic that put the foal there was to accommodate the foal and bring no harm to her. This great weight in her womb gave Filianore a feeling of comfort. This was vastly different from what she expected. Magically bearing a child of such a pure creature was a far cry from the death and ruin she perceived it to be. 

Filianore began to feel the foal descending lower. She felt no pain as labor began. She could feel the foal pushing its way out of her womb and down the narrow corridor of the birth canal. The strong magic of the foal's father aided the foal forcing its way through the tight passage. Filianore gasped.

She felt every movement, every instance of it sliding out of her, descending further and further as its hooves started noticeably poking out against her taut skin. This was not solely without feeling. She felt a strong sensation overwhelm her: the need to push. In and out, she breathed. 

Filianore focused on her lower stomach region. Each muscle tensed and pulled. She tried to push down with all her might. Filianore could feel the foal moving faster. She could feel the nose poking out. Filianore continued to push until she got to the rest of the body. The adult unicorn already checking out the new young foal slowly stood as the birthing was nearing the end. 

Filianore struggled to push going red in the face but ultimately her struggle was rewarded. The body was now free and so too was the foal, Filianore looked down at her once round belly to see it was now deflated. Filianore watched in blissful delight seeing her newborn unicorn foal trying to stand. The foal came to her, instinctively knowing that she was his mother. She carefully wrapped her arms around the foal. Instantly in love with it. She could feel the magic radiating off the newborn foal. With this, the ritual was now complete.

The elder unicorn nudged the newborn and Filianore towards the forest. It was time to retreat to the depths of the forest. With a gentle hand against her newborn foal, Filianore looked around. She was leaving the altar, and her life as a princess behind. She was now a mother, her duty to her foal. Indifferent to returning to the palace, she wished to be like that first princess long before her. Filianore wanted nothing more than to keep such a pure and beautiful creature in the world. This birth did not take her virginity, she could bear another. She wished to bear another. Filianore dreaded what the world might be like without the unicorns, without magic. Her heart could not stand to dream of such a world. It was a last wish by Princess Filianore 

Filianore left the altar with her foal and its father, her heart wanting to fill this forest with a herd of unicorns again. Her body was more than capable of doing so.