#see the thing is. love bears all things hopes all things endures all things. love never fails

[rithmeres]

i tried to write this post about four times now and there’s no real way to say it without sounding pathetic and dumb even but basically yesterday i watched reiner apologize to annie and i watched annie forgive and embrace him and then i saw jean and connie extend forgiveness to reiner that he asked for but didn’t think he deserved, and my heart was full for all that love and restoration and understanding, and then today i saw my old roommate that i hated, who made my sophomore year hell, the sight of whom used to make me sick with rage, walk into church after years of no contact and the sight made me flinch and then i waved to her, the smallest possible olive branch that i could extend, and she smiled back and then i looked for the grudge i had been dragging with me all these years that i didn’t want to carry but could never seem to put down and feared that i would carry to the grave, and i saw that it was gone and i said i’m glad to see you. please forgive me. and she held me and said there is nothing to forgive and i cried and cried and cried for the burden that was lifted

[fedao]

🍉 Help my family 🍉

Hello, I am Fidaa and I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart on behalf of my family, a family of five people trapped in the devastating situation in Gaza. We are urgently seeking evacuation to Egypt after enduring more than 282 days of displacement and hardship. I am seeking to help us urgently and provide us with the minimum requirements. I never imagined that my loved ones would be caught in the crossfire of a conflict they were not part of. My husband had only one dream – to teach and take care of our children . The idea that their innocence has been marred by the horrors of war is too heavy a burden to bear. We face the harsh reality of conflict. The trauma inflicted on my children tears at my heart, and I am haunted by fear for their safety and well-being. To give you a glimpse into their daily struggle, they wake up to a relentless battle for survival after surviving deadly nights. For more than 200 days, we have been cooking on firewood due to the scarcity of cooking gas. The entire region lacks fuel for cars, making transportation almost impossible. Basic necessities, including medicines, are scarce, even for those with the means to purchase them. Humanitarian aid has barely reached areas in Khan Yunis that have not yet reached us. But I find myself in a very embarrassing situation. I have to go back and ask for help and rescue. You are my only hope. My family is struggling with genocide. I promised myself that I would do my best to convey their suffering and save them, even if it cost me death. My beloved family is the most precious thing in my existence, and I am very sad that we are still in the Gaza Strip, where we see all kinds of death I'm ashamed to ask you to help me save our lives. It was my wise way to save my children If someone donates $5 it will make a difference for us and help us because we need more. I don't want to lose my family, you are my only hope I love you because you were the source of my trust. I love you because you are truly wonderful. You are our hope always and forever. You also helped me save my family, the most precious thing in existence. I feel so embarrassed but I have rubbed salt in my wound and I have no one to save it but you

Your generosity will directly help save my family from death and rebuild our lives. Every donation, no matter the size, makes a big difference. Lend your hand and make a meaningful impact for us because we need you Donate on GoFundMe Every contribution, whether big or small, will directly help save my family's life ✓ Share this post and spread the word ⩥ Please share this campaign with your friends, family and colleagues to help us achieve our goal and evacuate my family safely . Your support means everything to me, and I am so grateful for any help you can provide during this difficult time. Your help means everything to us. For more details or questions, please contact me freely. Your kindness is a beacon of hope for our family. We thank you for your support and hope that better days will come.

[yandere-daydreams]

Honestly one Hybrid troupe I love but don’t see a lot is the deer! Reader. They’re still innocent, of course with those doe eyes, but they live for the chase against a predator. What happened when this sweet doe is caught? 👀

tw - manipulation, power dynamics, implied non/con.

no wait,,, bc deer!reader and panther!geto,,, no,,, wait,,,

it's just - you're such an easily scared little thing, quick to run at the first sign of pointed teeth and sharpened claws. he knows he shouldn't, that it's unfair of him to target prey so far beneath his hunting class, but he can't help but linger in the shadows of your usual grazing spot, can't find an excuse not to send those drooling mutts after someone else's meal and let your hopeful little herbivore mind be lulled into a false sense of security by the suddenly serene forest. you're still frightened when he eventually shows himself, but you don't bolt, and he keeps his fangs hidden behind his lips as he smiles and introduces himself, as he lets you pet over his rounded ears and admit you've never met a hybrid quite like him before. you're so unfamiliar with big cats, you don't even register him as a carnivore, much less a threat - taking him by the hand and showing him all of your favorite shortcuts through the forest (all the shortcuts the wolves don't know about, you assure him), all your favorite places to hide when something tries to take a bite out of you. you go on and on about how much you hate wolves, how mean bears can be, how hard it can be to find a watering hole the alligators haven't already gotten to - imparting all your well-earned wisdom onto your new companion without so much as a second thought. if it wasn't such an endearing display, he might've started to think just a little less of you.

when he finally does lunge, it's far too late to get away. Not that you don't try - it's adorable, watching your hoofed feet kick at air, your teary eyes darting to every possible escape route before your instincts realize that you're already trapped, already pinned underneath his larger body. if he wanted to, he could've taken a bite of you right then and there, but you're such a precious thing - so fast and so, so trusting - it just feels wrong not to see how much of a chase he can get out of you.

maybe, if you really manage to impress him, he'll decide to put all that endurance of yours to good use <3

[zillychu]

Trigun fucking destroys me, okay.

It's about persisting through the most horrific obstacles imaginable, and never losing hope for yourself and others. It's about the fruit your efforts bear, but it doesn't ignore the ugliness of the suffering you endure. It doesn't sweep it under the rug to give you a happy ending.

As a jaded millennial, I get a bit tired of stories where everything turns out fine because the heroes tried hard. Most stories gloss over the repercussions of failure. They tell us it's all simply a means to an end, and that end is what matters. Overcoming your obstacle matters. Winning matters.

Trigun doesn't do this.

Vash gets hurt (gross understatement). He's ostracized, bullied, threatened, haunted, forced to see the darkest underbelly of humanity. He's subjected to the worst parts of life that are grotesquely ruthless, unforgiving, hopeless. He's forced to reconcile a lot of his goals (like never killing anyone), but not the core of his beliefs.

Not once does he falter in his trust that people are capable of good, that we all deserve that chance to be. He never has a revelation that shakes his faith in humanity, despite constantly being given every reason to. He's the irritatingly optimistic anime protagonist who looks at impossible odds and says "everything will be alright", the way no one can in real life because it never works out that way for us.

And it doesn't for him, either.

Vash does his best, believes in himself, and fails. over and over and over again. He loses everything--loved ones, memories, autonomy. He loses constantly. He's your unrealistically positive hero, being dealt realistically unfavorable hands.

And still, he persists. He never truly wins. Because we never truly win. Life has no happy ending like a story does.

He never truly wins, and yet, he can still find happiness. He meets friends, enjoys good food, watches people love fiercely in both blessing and hardship. He hits unbelievable lows that don't keep him from finding highs. Because he never stops trying to be the best of what he sees in humanity. Because every little bit counts. He never stops believing in humans--believing in you.

Trigun grabs you by the face and stares directly at you. It says "I see you, I see your pain, how much you struggle. I see how sometimes no matter how hard you try, things don't work out. Life isn't a fairy tale. I see how your kindness can come back to hurt you, hurt others. I see you, and I'm proud of you. Life is worth living with love in your heart not because we win, but because we try. We all try. Never stop trying to be kind."

Trigun shows you the cruel reality of life, and leaves you feeling good about it.

I don't know a single piece of media that's able to do that.

[shirefantasies]

This is something no one requested, but that I wrote for sheer comfort at a rush of bad memories. Warnings are fairly obvious, but this post will contain implications of abuse, though no graphic/explicit depictions.

The Hobbit Characters Finding Out You Were in an Abusive Relationship

Balin

His gaze drops from yours, but you are not offended by the pensive expression that crosses his face- what you said would take anyone time, let alone someone as thoughtful as Balin. Several heartbeats pass before he speaks. "My heart breaks for you," he begins, "that is a fate no one deserves. I can hardly begin to imagine... But what I do know is you have every right to do things at your own pace. Don't push yourself for me, love." Eyes shining, you nod. "And if I ever raise my voice at you, it'll only be for good reason, say, in a battle or because my old ears don't work so good." Giggling, you accept his proffered hand. "I admit, I can't picture you raising your voice like that at anyone." "It's happened," he jokes back, "those nephews of Thorin's have earned it a few times. But not you. I'm not here to control you, I'm here to love you, and you tell me if I'm making good on that." "It's a deal," you reply, smiling softly as Balin squeezes your hand.

Dwalin

“I know you may not understand or that my fears may seem weak-” “Weak?” Dwalin cuts you off. “Ya know who’s weak? That coward for picking on someone who loved ‘em. You are strong as hell for telling them yer done.” One final question rose to your lips. “So you don’t think differently of me?” At that, the tattooed dwarf shakes his head, placing a hand upon your shoulder and breathing your name softly even in his rough voice. “By my bear, you’re about the sweetest soul I’ve ever met and this only serves to confirm it. I’d have pummeled the sod at first insult.” “I probably should have,” you remarked, arms crossing over your midsection. “Not so fast,” Dwalin’s hand clapped over your chest, taking yours, “that’s what you have me for!” The hearty, devilishly proud laugh he burst into was enough to have you joining the mirth, your head falling gently against his.

Thorin

His eyes darken, jaw setting in a way that sends shivers of intimidation down your spine even in spite of your knowledge that it is not for you. You know it because of the way Thorin pulls you into his arms, because he breaths his condolences into your ear as he does so, warm air ticking the shell of it. "And your fire still burns," he remarks, wonder coloring his voice and shining in his blue eyes. "In a way," you reply, gaze still a bit downcast, "I use it as fuel. Never again will I be somebody's plaything." "Never indeed," Thorin agrees with a small nod, "and you may not need it, but while I remain at your side you have my sword and my word that no harm will come to you so long as I draw breath…”

Oin

His eyes go moist in a moment and he holds up his ear trumpet, clearly hoping beyond hope he heard you wrong. Hands clasping his, you shake your head. “So I’m sorry if I ever seem afraid to-” “You are sorry?” Oin asks incredulously, his tone still managing to be quiet, subdued to the volume you normally know him for. “You don’t have a damn thing to apologize for. That is not your fault in the slightest. Do you have any scars? Any bruises? I’m only asking because I want to take away your pain.” Likely it was in the past, long enough ago for those worries to fade. Scars to score only your heart. “Aye, if I can…I want to heal that, too. Treat you like the jewel you are.”

Gloin

His wide-eyed expression is almost comical despite it all, bringing a hushed, nervous chuckle past your lips. Gloin continues staring at you like you're a new creation for a moment longer, dragging the silence out until you feel you might burst. Finally, he stutters out a reply. "You- you endured all that?" "Yes, though I cannot help wondering if I could have prevented it. You see, I-" "Oh, no," Gloin cuts off your spiral, clutching your gesticulating hands and shaking his head firmly at you, "don't you dare let that coward off one bit. No one asks for anything that bastard did. They always say pressure makes a diamond, but you, my dear, were a gem far before and only shine brighter with each passing moment. Diamonds are gifts of this earth, though, not just some trinket for rich arms. If it was you or all the wealth in the Lonely Mountain, I'd choose you every time. Remember that. Please." "How could I forget words like those?" You grin at him, heart still hammering. "I will do my best to carry them in my heart."

Bifur

Soon as your confession leaves your lips, Bifur backs up from you, dismaying you with his own pain in your eyes. “Scared?” He signs, and your heart breaks anew. Quickly you step forward, bridging the gap again, and reach up to tuck some of his wild hair behind his ear. Shaking your head, you reply, “No, dear Bifur, I am not afraid. If anything, I apologize if I ever seem that way. If my nightmares frighten you and I either hold you closer or push you away. If I startle a little too easily. If I am quick to say no.” He finally tilts his head back up to look you in the eyes, moving it to the side to rest his cheek against your palm. “I, too, have nightmares. Bad things happen when I sleep,” he signs to you, “I get hurt. You get hurt. I need space sometimes, too. I may tell you no, too.” “But when you love someone,” you finish, a tearful smile rising to your face, “You want to see them fulfilled.” At that, the dwarf nods vigorously. “I love you. I never want to scare you. To hurt you.”

Bofur

“A star as bright as you?” Shaking his head, Bofur removes his hat, clutching it in both hands. “Guess that’s beside the point. Someone like that only thinks o’ themselves. But hey, you know that wasn’t your fault, right?” You just nod. “And the fact that you still give your heart to everyone… you’re nothin’ short of amazing.” Tearing up, you burst into a smile, exhaling your relief and falling into Bofur’s open arms. “Was gonna do it anyway,” he mumbles into your neck, “but I want you to know that I’ll treat you like royalty. Much as I can give. I really will.” “I believe you, Bofur, I believe you.”

Bombur

Never have you seen his face fall like you do in that moment. All but instinctually, he opens his arms. “May I?” Nodding, you fall against his chest, the beat of his heart calming your racing thoughts. “I don’t know what to say other than that you don’t deserve that,” Bombur tells you, a hand gently cradling the back of your head, “you deserve the finest man who tosses roses at your feet ‘n’ sings your praises day after day. Someone with half an eye who can see how lovely you are. You deserve all the pretty things in this world.” “And I have that. I have all I could ever want right here,” you reply, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye, “you give me all the love I deserve.”

Dori

"What gives them the right? Nothing. It's not right, any of it! Why is it always the prettiest flowers that get plucked?" Even in his righteous anger, Dori pays you a sweet compliment, a small testament to his value of you. Cupping his cheek, you interrupt his rant, shifting him to meet your eyes and feeling tears prick at you when you see how wet his eyes are. "I don't want you to live with that pain," he adds, voice breaking slightly. Heart dropping, then soaring again at the love in his eyes, you reach up on the other side, and his hand comes up to cover yours. "These roots are strong," you assure him, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his, "with care they grow anew." "I will take care of you," Dori whispers your name, blue eyes fluttering shut, "Always. I swear it."

Nori

“Where is the rat? I’ll kill ‘em, gut ‘em like the pig they are!” Nori’s rage rose an odd flush of endearment through you; murderous as his words may have been, your heart was lightened for his care, the sheer vindication that what you went through was not deserved. But then again, the way that person hurt you was something you would never wish upon any living soul and you knew that. Sheepishly, you shook your head, stepping forward to take one of the dwarf’s wildly gesticulating hands. “The way you love me has avenged enough,” you cut into his harsh words, “no one has fought for me before you, Nori. Thank you.”

Ori

“Somebody really did all that to you?” He doesn’t mean to sound stupid, but the revelation is nothing but dumbfounding. “Yes,” you nod, breath catching in a half-sob, “I didn’t even feel like a person by the end of it.” Your arm is crossed over your chest, but Ori removes it, gently, intently, to hold your hand in his. “You are, though. You’re…you’re more than anything I could have ever imagined. And I like imagining things quite a lot,” he smiles softly, almost sheepishly, “in fact, you know what one of the things I imagine is?” You cringe, see his eyes widen that he accidentally hit a sore spot and feel the way his hand involuntarily tightens. He continues, though. “How I can show all that to you.” Head falling atop his, you succumb to a grin- he is leagues different from that person without even lifting a finger. “You do that just by being you, Ori.”

Fili

You hardly expect his first words to be thanking you, but indeed as both of his hands grip yours, he smiles sadly and does just that. "Thank you for trusting me with that. Fighting the fear. I don't take it lightly. But if you think this does anything but make me love you more," his smile shifts, returns to something more like the amusement you more often saw, "I'm afraid you are solely mistaken. The fact that you trust me, feel safe around me...why, I'll work to keep earning that until the day I die." Grinning, you fall into Fili's arms, feeling utterly secure in the warmth of his embrace. "And that alone means the world," you whisper, "I love you." "And I you. Forever."

Kili

"No," Kili shakes his head, "no, you cannot be serious!" "So you think I lie?" You shoot back, tone sharply defensive in your hurt. Kili's dark eyes widen, glossing over with tears; he shakes his head again, this time slower, but much more vehement, "Not at all. I simply can't believe it. Why anybody would want to hurt someone like you. I admit I can't fathom it." "It's because I didn't matter in that person's mind," you reply, your own eyes tearing and your voice going soft, "I was not a consideration." "Well, let me consider you," Kili replies quickly, straightening and reaching out a hand, "I'll not do anything you want me to do. And if I ever raise my voice at you, feel free to slap me." "Kili," you half-chuckle, half-sob, "how would that make me any better than-" "It was a joke, but see? Now I have you smiling again. That's all I want. For you to be happy. I love you, truly, I do."

Bilbo

“Any chance we would…run into this person?” So casually, almost awkwardly phrased, and yet you deduced exactly what Bilbo meant with his question. “Are you…” Your expression widened back to a tentative smile. “…hoping to have a fight with them?” Plenty of people had been on your side, nearly everyone agreeing that what you endured crossed every line, but hearing it from a partner was an even stronger spike of the vindication you never tired of. Plus Bilbo’s scrappy side was all but the cutest thing in the world. “Well,” the hobbit straightened his coat, “I simply think they need to be put in their place. Why, of all the… how could anyone take a look at someone like you and see anything but the greatest treasure they’ve ever known, it’s insulting, maddening, uncouth beyond all-” He stopped when he heard you giggle, felt your arms snake around him. “Oh Bilbo…my greatest treasure. I’ll always feel safe when you’re here.”

Thranduil

Rarely do you see the woodland king’s eyes harden, go so cold like shards of pale blue eyes, as you do when he hears your admission. “This person saw fit to treat you like property?” Thranduil’s voice is dangerously low, his gaze drifting distantly from yours. “I felt that way, yes,” you quietly agree, nodding. The king’s expression sends a shudder of intimidation down your spine. He must notice, the way he offers you his hand- tentative, eyes softening in question. Telling you wordlessly that acceptance is your choice. A small nod and you take it, his fingers closing over yours as he lifts the back of your hand to his lips. “Never again,” he breaks the silence, voice low but all ice drained from it, “while I wish your time here to never end, our gates are open to you. My halls are as your own. If that…that fiend even thinks to cross the Woodland Realm’s borders? Some gates shall be closed forever.” A part of you wishes to cringe at Thranduil’s harsh words, but as he winds you into his chest you simply feel the heat of tears prick your eyes as you whisper your thanks, an answer coming in the form of the elven king’s lips upon your head.

Bard

He stepped back, eyes widening at your revelation. Every aspect of him softened. “How? How could anybody…” Eyes distant, you shook your head. “At the time, I felt like it was because I wasn’t good enough. Now I see how sick it was. How I was…just an object,” your voice faded into a near-sob, prompting Bard to catch you about the waist, lower you into a chair. He moved to put a hand on either arm of it, thought better of making you feel trapped. Instead he simply let you keep hold of his hand, tilting your chin with the other to meet your eyes. “By every power I hold dear I hope you never feel too afraid to tell me no. To tell me if I’ve hurt you. And by that same light we’ll spend every day filling your heart. Never should you apologize for your scars- those are signs of your strength.”

Beorn

He never does this. You've never known the Skin-Changer to be one for spontaneous affection and yet he's pulling you into his arms the moment you finish, your head falling against his chest or wherever it falls upon his massive height. Several breaths pass like this before either of you speak again. “There is cruelty in this world I will never understand. No excuses exist for it. None. But I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from it.” True to his word, the Skin-Changer is there for you after every nightmare. Never once does he raise his voice or his hand to you. He may not always understand you, but well does he know the feeling of chains, physical or metaphorical, and he would die before casting his own. In moments surpassing his understanding of you, he takes to the woods, offering space over harsh words and freedom of travel over control. True love, after all, always returns.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[marvelsmylife]

Can you feel my heart breaking? Part two

Pairing: Azriel x reader 

Plot: five months after Azriel discoveres you are his mate, the night court pays the day court a visit. What happens when Azriel discovers another male is making his intentions known that he wants to court you?

A/n I’m contemplating writing a part three (including smut) let me know if you guys are interested in it.

Part One

Acotar Masterlist

Send in Requests

It took everyone in the inner circle to physically stop Azriel from going after you when you left for the day court. After revealing that you already knew Azriel was your mate, Rhysand explained that you asked for some space. Azriel listened in horror as Rhysand detailed what you endured for the past year and a half. He couldn’t believe you bottled up all the pain you felt while you watched him love someone else.

Poor Elain started apologizing for being part of the reason you left and swore nothing ever happened between her and Azriel. Rhysand reassured her that you held no ill will towards her and you left to clear your head but that you would be back in a few months.

Rhysand begged Azriel to give you space while you process your emotions. “Rhys, please. I need to see her. I need to tell her that I know that I am her mate and that I want this mating bond.”

“No,” Rhysand said firmly: “You are also prohibited from traveling to the day court until she lets me know she’s ready”.

Azriel didn’t give up though, he sent out his spies into the day court and they gave him updates on your well-being. Every night they would report the same thing: you were fine, you were safe, and you were still staying with Helion despite your family living nearby. Over time, they would report that you were smiling more and having pleasant conversations with the people around the villages you would visit.

That brought a smile to the spymaster's face. He remembered how kind you were to everyone who crossed your path; even towards people who didn’t deserve your kindness.

One day though, one of Azriel’s spies informed him that there was a new general in the day court who had taken a liking towards you. They informed Azriel that this new general is actively seeking you out and gifting you small presents to win you over.

Panic started to take over Azriel’s body at the news. It never crossed his mind that someone else would try to court you while you were away. 

Azriel pleaded with Rhysand to visit the day court so he could see you. He told him what his spies had informed him and he was worried you might accept a courtship. Rhysand wanted to respect your wishes but he couldn’t bear to see his brother's desperate state anymore “ok, ok I’ll contact Helion and request if we can visit. But let me make one thing clear” Rhysand warned “You better hope whatever you have plan works out. I need y/n back home with us”.

Helion accepts Rhysand’s requests and extends an invitation to Rhysand and his inner circle to stay with him.

Azriel was on edge when they finally arrived at the day court and waited for you to come down and greet them. While they waited for you, Helion thanked Rhysand for sending you to him because in his words “you brought so much happiness to him and his people”.

Rhysand responded with “That’s why we love her so much. She’s like our own personal ball of sunshine. I don’t know what we would do without her.”

“You would survive” you teased and caught everyone’s attention “but it’s nice to know I make that much of an impact on you guys”.

Time seemed to stop for Azriel as he watched you make your way downstairs. That was until the unnamed general appeared by your side and whispered something in your ear. 

Jealousy surged through Azriel as he watched you playfully roll your eyes and giggle at whatever the general had said. “Control your anger,” Rhysand warned: “Do not jeopardize our alliance with the day court over his comments. Y/n has no interests in the general”.

Right at that moment you looked over at Azriel and sent him a concerning look. You were about to ask if something was wrong when Helion announced that it was time for dinner and guided everyone into the dining area.

Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t help but glance over at you. A smile appeared on his face as he took in your beauty. He couldn’t believe he completely overlooked you and was pining after the wrong female. He wanted to desperately tell you in front of everyone, especially in front of the general that had also been eye fucking you throughout dinner that he knew you were his mate.

He didn’t though. He knew it would be foolish to announce it in front of everyone and probably cause you to be embarrassed. He needed to do it when you were alone. 

Fortunately for him, that opportunity came sooner than he thought. “I’ll be right back, I need to use the washroom” you excused yourself and left the table. Azriel took the opportunity and excused himself as well before trailing after you.

Azriel patiently waited outside for you. His shadows went wild with excitement when you finally exited and quickly darted towards you. “Oh hello,” you squealed at the shadows running up and down your body.

“They missed you” Azriel explained and got your attention.

“Azriel” you whispered “what are you doing here? Why aren’t you eating with everyone else?”

“I needed to talk to you in private” Azriel replied and started making you feel nervous about what he might want to talk about. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my mate?” Azriel asked with desperation in his hazel eyes.

The question took you by surprise but you decided to answer it honestly: “Because you were in love with Elain,” you replied: “You were so in love that you questioned the cauldron's decision to make Lucien Elain's mate.” Azriel felt his heart stop at your explanation. He didn’t know that anyone heard his argument with Rhysand months ago about him thinking the cauldron made a mistake. “I thought if you found out I was your mate you would think the cauldron definitely made a mistake and that I was intended to be with Lucien and you with Elain. I just want you to be happy and if that means being with Elain then you have my blessing. But if you do proceed with courting her, I will be permanently moving to the day court.” You tried your hardest not to cry before continuing: “I can’t bear to be under the same roof when it happens”.

Sadness rippled through the bond and Azriel hated the fact that he was the reason behind it. “I don’t want Elain; I want you” Azriel pleaded. “I can’t live another second without you by my side.”

“It’s just the mating bond” you replied “It’ll fade away over time.”

“No it won’t” Azriel got closer and cupped your face “Do you need me to get on my knees for you? I’ll drop this instant if it means you forgive my actions. Listen, you don’t have to accept the mating bond right now if you don’t want to, but please allow me to show you how much I love you.”

Every part of you wanted to say no, you just got in a good place mentally and you didn’t want to have it destroyed again. Another part of you felt the desperation through the bond and wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around Azriel. Letting out a shaky breath, you whispered: “Please don’t break my heart.”

Azriel took that as an invitation to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself become one with Azriel as he deepened the kiss and started moving his hands up and down your body: “I’ll guard it with my life” Azriel replied; his lips hovering over your own “Thank you for trusting me with it”.

Just as Azriel was about to slip his hands under your dress, a loud cough caused you to pull away. Azriel looked over his shoulder and spotted the general glaring at the two of you: “My high lord is wondering if you will be joining us for dessert or are you two going to fuck instead.”

“Tell Helion that we will not be joining you guys,” you replied before looking up at Azriel: “Tell him that my mate and I are going to be in my room for the rest of the night.”

Azriel gave the general a wicked grin at your response before being pulled upstairs to your room. 

@willowpains

[frostdayz]

Aegon the jealous

aegon x reader (first person pov)

genre: Angst?

summary: Aegon starts to think he's loosing you to his younger brother

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I strolled along the winding paths, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the autumn wind. Aemond and I had spent the afternoon discussing books and tactics, his sharp mind always a fascinating companion. Yet, as I made my way back to my chambers, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

As I rounded a corner, I saw Aegon standing in the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest and a stormy expression on his face. My heart skipped a beat. I had seen that look before – a mixture of hurt and jealousy that tugged at my soul.

"My king," I called out softly, hoping to ease the tension. "What a surprise. What brings out out here?"

He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "I've been waiting for you asking myself were you've been," he replied, his voice low and edged with a bitterness that sent a shiver down my spine. " But I now see my wife's time has been overtaken by my brother."

I sighed, stepping closer to him. "Aegon, it's not what you think. Aemond and I are just friends. We were talking about books and strategies, nothing more."

He scoffed, looking away. "Just friends? And I'm supposed to believe that? I've seen the way he looks you." I look at him with a puzzled look on my face, I no idea where this wave of jealousy came from.

"He should thank the gods I don't take his only good eye out with my bare hands" He tries to walk away but reaching out, I gently took his hand, feeling the tension in his fingers. "Aegon, please. You have nothing to worry about. I love you, and only you."

He looked back at me, his eyes softening slightly. "Then why do I feel such abandonment?"

I took a deep breath, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "You take nonsense my king, Aegon. I promise you. Aemond is a friend, but you are my heart. You always have been."

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the evening breeze rustling the leaves around us. Slowly, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as if afraid I might slip away.

"I am sorry," he murmured against my hair. "I just... I can't bear the thought of losing the one thing I love in this life. The crown, 7 kingdoms, and the floor I walk on can all disappear, but you."

I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. "You won't lose me, Aegon. Not now, not ever."

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes with a vulnerability that made my heart ache. "Do you truly mean that?"

I nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, I do."

He nodded, his expression softening as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft twilight over the garden, knowing our love would endure all.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?

It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.

To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.

It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.

In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.

Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.

And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).

I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.

We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).

A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.

We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.

Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.

[heartysworld]

Your Beauty Never Scared Me || Lucien x Reader

Your relationship with your future mother-in-law was not bad, but you knew she likes to keep her distance most of the time. You turned the corner of the big hallway, finding yourself in front of Lucien's chambers. His mother was outside, pacing in front of the doors. Tears were streaming down her face.

"My Lady, what is happening?" You asked worriedly.

"Oh Gods, they have ruined my boy, my beautiful boy." She sobbed sitting down on a chair, hands covering her face.

"Who and what have they done? Is Lucien okay?" You asked once again, kneeling before her shaking form.

"His brothers, they attacked Lucien on his way back from the training field. I am yet to seen him, all I was told is that the healer has been called and nobody is allowed in. I heard his screams, my boy was tearing the skies, his voice was full of so much pain." She said.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Lucien being attacked and injured. The situation in court wasn't the best but you never expected for it to go this bad. You could only hope that Lucien would be okay, that's all you cared about.

You and the youngest son of Autumn are about to be wed in less than a moon. Your father, one of Lord Beron's most trusted advisors, had long ago noticed your fondness of the red-haired Prince, and after a long discussion with the High Lord and his Council it was decided, you two were to be married. Lucien was happy, you were as well. After a long agonizing few hours of waiting in front of the door, the Lady of Autumn was finally allowed in. You couldn't hear much from the inside but one particular loud scream scared your soul away, making your heart beat even faster than it did before. What had they done to him?

Time passed before the wooden doors creaked open again. Slowly, her ladyship slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her back.

"Is he in a lot of pain? Will he be okay?" You asked with a worried expression.

"Listen, Y/N... what you're about to see... Nobody would blame you if you decide to annul the marriage proposal." She said making your heart stop, your face went completely pale.

"What... what are you talking about? I would never! I love Lucien I would never do such thing!" You exclaimed. You felt offended that anyone would ever think this way of you. Have your signs of affection not been enough.

"Listen, dear..." She started again but you couldn't listen to her any longer, you just wanted to see your fiancé.

Walking past her, you headed for the doors, pushing them open. You were met with complete darkness. The curtains were drawn, the door to the balcony was also closed. It felt more like a cave than a room.

"Who's there? Y/N?" A voice rasped from the darkness. You immediately recognized it as Lucien's.

You took a few steps closer to one of the windows, reaching for the blinds to pull them apart.

"No! Don't you dare!" Lucien hissed.

"Lucien, love, what happened?" You asked with concern, heading to his bed as you sat down on its edge. In the darkness, your hand managed to find his, giving it a light squeeze.

"I think you should leave, Y/N. I can't bear seeing the look on your face when you catch sight of what I've become." Lucien said, his voice raspy from all the screams he had let out not long ago.

"No... Lucien, I am not leaving, not now, not ever. Whatever happened, I am ready to endure it by your side. I am to be your wife, I will never leave you. Please, my love, let me see." You whispered. His desperation made you feel even worse, to think you'd leave him just like this.

You felt him move around in the bed. The only light in the room was coming from the opened door. Lucien slowly raised up his upper body, the lonely stream of light falling right on his face. What you saw made your eyes water like a waterfall, your hands went over your mouth while tears started falling down your cheeks.

His left eye was gone, the entire half of his face being covered in bandages that went all the way up into his hair down to his chin.

"I don't expect you to still want to give yourself to me." Lucien said, his hand never letting go of yours regardless of his words.

"Lucien, no, look at me," you said, when his head remained lowered you repeated your words, "look at me, Lucien!" You raised your voice.

Slowly his gaze met yours, his healthy eye was teary, ready to release its tears.

"I've loved you for so long, my love. Nothing could ever make me detest you, your looks are the least of my worries. You're the one I want to call my husband, the one whose children I want to carry and whose life I want to share. We will get through this together. I need you to speak to me, about everything, whatever you're feeling I want to know about it. That's the only way we could be able to handle every challenge fate throws at us." You said. Your free hand slowly laid on his cheek, feeling the coldness of his skin.

The two of you spent hours in his chambers, at one point he asked you to lay in bed with him. You nestled safely in his embrace, careful not to touch his face. The entire day was spent in bed, talking, you were even able to make him laugh twice, which made your heart flutter. A few kisses were exchanged as well, at the time night had fallen, Lucien was already asleep against your chest while you combed your hands through his beautiful white hair. He looked so peaceful when sleeping.

A quiet knock was heard, followed by the doors opening. The healer from earlier stood at the entrance of the room, a bag in his hand.

"It is time for me to change the Prince's bandages, my lady." The old man whispered.

You nodded slowly. With your hand on Lucien's back, you softly shook him awake, a quiet groan escaping from his mouth. He never liked being woken up.

"My love, it's time to clean your wounds. The healer is here, you must get up." You whispered against his forehead.

His body tensed when your words sank in. There was no way he could make you leave, you were going to see how damaged he was.

"It's okay, hey, I love you. I love you a lot." You said, cupping his cheek softly.

He nodded, slowly rising from the bed in a sitting position.

You followed the healer's every move, trying to memorize the process as much as possible so that whenever it was needed you could take care of your future husband as well.

It was nothing complicated, after a few tries you were confident in your skills and knowledge.

Lucien didn't complain, the opposite, he was actually glad that it was you who took over in taking care of him. He was always more comfortable in your presence and nothing could change that.

Years passed and your love for Lucien never disappeared, it became even stronger with each day. Drastic changes occured all around Prythian. Lucien was now the emissary of the Night Court, away from the wrath that used to rule his life. Beron was long dead, defeated by Eris after he tried to murder his mate as revenge.

Lucien still had his insecurities,but you spent every moment possible reminding him how much you loved him until every single ounce of doubt was gone from his mind.

You had recently given birth to your first child,a little girl who was the most precious angel ever. When Lucien held her for the first time you recognized the look on his face from that horrifying moment years ago. He was worried about his own daughter being repulsed by his appearance.

However, your little girl was all smiles and giggles. Whenever she was in her dad's arms she always wanted to look at his face, she was adorable and had him wrapped around her finger. You knew that your family would be fine,as long as there was love present.

If you're interested in more check HERE !

[peachdues]

THE SWEET FAR THING — SNIPPET

Knight!Kyojuro x Princess!Reader • Royal AU

A/N: yes, there’s going to be smut, but there’s also going to be angst (because who am I if not the connoisseur of angsty romance?)

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Rengoku exploded, whipping around to face you. The fire in his eyes could have burned you alive, could have reduced the magnificent castle around you to ash. “Do you think it does not tear me apart to know that you are meant for another?”

Rengoku swore violently, his outburst making you flinch.

“That I cannot have you the way I desire — and I do not mean merely taking you to bed,” the knight’s anguish was palpable as he gripped at fistfuls of his hair. “I mean that I cannot claim you as mine for the world to see; I cannot kiss you. I cannot marry you. I cannot love you.”

Once, his admission — his confession — of his true feelings for you would have made your heart soar. That he would’ve wanted you as ardently as you’d longed for him would have soothed the inferno raging with your heart; tamed it to a steady, tender flame that burned for him and him alone.

Now, you only felt cold.

“And yet you’ve still taken liberties with me,” you fixed your gaze upon the stone behind his head, unable to bear witness to the way he visibly deflated. “You have touched me and tasted me with abandon.”

Even the cadence of your voice felt foreign. “Some would even argue you’ve compromised my virtue.”

It did not matter if he’d revealed the depth of his feelings for you; the earnestness of his confession was poisoned by his own actions — by his disregard for you in favor of his own selfish wants.

Rengoku dropped his head in shame. “I know.”

Your accusation had been made in earnest, and yet you recoiled all the same from the ugly stab of his words.

It would’ve hurt less if he’d hit you.

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air until the knight roughly cleared his throat.

“And that is why I am to join the Hashira — why I am to leave the castle by the next full moon.”

Your lungs constricted harshly, your breath eking out of you in a pitiful, strangled wheeze. “Y-you’re —?”

His pained expression was a sure mirror of your own. “I cannot do it, Y/N,” he said roughly, not bothering with the formality of your title. “I cannot sit back and watch as you’re married off to another.”

The skin of his knuckles turned white as the knight balled his fists. “It is tradition that the Guards of both parties attend the consummation — to confirm the marriage is valid.”

Rengoku’s eyes screwed tightly shut, and his head turned stiffly to the side, as though he could avoid facing the ugly truth of it all. He exhaled harshly, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he worked to open his eyes once more.

“You cannot ask me to bear witness to that.”

And yet, he was asking you to endure life as a caged bird without even the hope to dream of flight; of him.

“If you leave, I will have nothing left,” you whispered, eyes wide and unblinking. “I will have no reason to continue on; nothing worth living for.”

Rengoku’s attention snapped to you in alarm. In a flash, he’d closed the distance between you, his hands locking around your shoulders, fingers digging uncomfortably — urgently — into your skin.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice low and full of anger. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t you dare even think it, not even for a moment.”

[dee-writes-smut]

CLEMATISES (Chapter Seven)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Eris processes new revelations while in a secluded cabin, when he finally makes his choice he ends up running into his father and learning the truth about what happened after he left.

CONTENT WARNINGS murder, death, angst, betrayal, Beron being a douche as per usual, Lucien being fucking oblivious, sad Eris, mentions of labor, just some more depressing shit as always.

AUTHORS NOTE sorry for the shorter chapter, this is just bringing everything together and setting up for the main event! That's right, I'm making you wait to know if they're going to be okay, sue me. :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

The cold wind of the Autumn Court’s forests bit at Eris’s skin, his cloak barely providing warmth against the relentless chill. He had left the palace in a whirlwind of anger and hurt, unable to face the reality of your betrayal. Each step he took away from the life he had begun to build with you was like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

He found refuge in a secluded cabin, a place he had discovered years ago during one of his countless escapes from his father's tyranny. The cabin was nestled deep within the forest, surrounded by ancient trees whose branches intertwined above, creating a canopy that seemed to shield him from the rest of the world. It was here that he sought solace, attempting to mend the fractures in his heart.

Eris spent his days hunting and foraging, his skills as a warrior and a survivor keeping him alive. The physical exertion was a welcome distraction, a way to channel his rage and despair into something tangible. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the memories of you. The way your eyes sparkled with life, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter—it all haunted him relentlessly.

Nights were the worst. In the stillness, his mind would wander back to the moments you had shared. He remembered the first time you had laughed at one of his jokes, the soft sound of your breathing as you slept beside him, the way you looked at him with such trust and affection. Those memories were a torment, a reminder of what he had lost and the betrayal that had shattered his heart.

One night, as he sat by the fire, the flames casting flickering shadows on the wooden walls, Eris allowed himself to think about his father. The slap, the humiliation in front of the council—it was all too familiar. His father had always known how to break him, to strip him of his dignity and humanity. It was a cruelty Eris had endured for years, but it had never hurt as much as the pain you had caused.

The revelation that Lucien was the father of your child had hit him harder than any blow his father had ever dealt. Eris tried to process it, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He had always been closest to Lucien, had raised him and protected him as best he could. The memory of being forced to hold Lucien down while their father slaughtered Jesminda still haunted him. It was a betrayal that had cut deep, one that Eris had never forgiven himself for.

Now, to learn that Lucien was the father of your child—it was almost too much to bear. Eris felt a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth every time he thought of it. How could you not have told him? The betrayal was a poison, seeping into his veins and clouding his thoughts.

Yet, in his isolation, Eris began to see things differently. He started to realize that pushing you away had been a mistake. You had been his refuge, his hope for a better future, and he had let his pride and fear drive him away from you. The thought of you struggling alone, possibly in danger, gnawed at him day and night.

The image of Lucien, his brother, raising his child was a painful one. But Eris knew that Lucien would never intentionally hurt him. Their bond, though strained, was still one of family. And you—he had seen the way you looked at him, the way you cared for him. The love he felt for you was too powerful to deny, too vital to ignore.

On the twelfth night of his solitude, as he stared into the fire, something shifted within him. The anger and betrayal that had consumed him began to wane, replaced by a deep, aching regret. He knew he had to find you, to apologize and make things right. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—he couldn’t live without you. The love he felt for you and your child was too strong to let go.

With newfound determination, Eris packed his belongings and set out from the cabin. The journey back to the palace was arduous, the terrain unforgiving, but he pressed on with relentless resolve. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that you needed him now more than ever.

As he approached the outskirts of the palace grounds, the familiar sense of dread crept over him. He had no idea what he would find, or if you would even take him back. But he knew he had to try. For you, for your child, and for the future he desperately wanted to build with you.

His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and hope as he crossed the threshold of the palace, his mind racing with possibilities. He would find you, he would make amends, and he would fight for the life he wanted with you, no matter the cost.

Eris's steps echoed through the halls of the palace, the familiar corridors now seeming alien and hostile. His heart pounded with each stride, a mix of fear and determination driving him forward. He had to find you, to make things right.

As he turned a corner, he found himself face-to-face with Beron. The High Lord of the Autumn Court stood there, his eyes cold and calculating, a sneer curling his lips. The sight of his father, the man who had inflicted so much pain and suffering upon him, only fueled the fire of Eris's anger and urgency.

"Well, well, well," Beron drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Look who decided to return. The prodigal son. Have you come back to grovel, Eris?"

Eris clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain calm. "I'm not here for you, Father. I'm here for her."

Beron's eyes narrowed. "Her? Ah, you mean the pregnant woman Lucien tried to hide away in the palace. Pathetic, really. He always was soft-hearted, trying to protect those who don't deserve it."

Eris felt a chill run down his spine. "What do you mean, hide away?"

Beron chuckled, a dark, menacing sound. "Didn't Lucien tell you? He brought some woman here, claiming she needed protection. A waste of our resources, if you ask me. So, I threw her out. We don't need any more useless mouths to feed."

Rage boiled within Eris. "You did what?" he hissed, stepping closer to his father.

"I threw her out," Beron repeated, his tone mocking. "If she's foolish enough to get herself in trouble, she doesn't deserve our help. And as for you, meddling in affairs that don't concern you, it's high time you learned your place."

Eris's vision blurred with fury. The thought of you, vulnerable and in need, being cast out into the streets because of his father's cruelty was too much to bear. He felt a surge of power, raw and untamed, rise within him.

"You've gone too far, Father," Eris growled, his voice trembling with anger. "This ends now."

Beron laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "And what do you plan to do about it, boy? You think you can challenge me? You are nothing but a disappointment."

Years of abuse, torment, and humiliation flashed before Eris's eyes. The countless times he had been belittled, the pain inflicted upon him and his brothers, the loss of Jesminda, and now the suffering you had endured—all because of this man.

Eris's anger reached its breaking point. With a roar of fury, he summoned his fire, the flames dancing around his hands. Beron's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a sneer.

"You think your fire can harm me?" Beron taunted. "You're weak, Eris. Always have been."

Eris lunged at his father, his flames blazing with an intensity he had never felt before. Beron tried to counter with his own power, but Eris was driven by a force beyond mere magic—a deep, primal need to protect, to avenge, to end the cycle of cruelty once and for all.

The fight was brutal, a clash of wills and powers that shook the very foundations of the palace. Beron fought back fiercely, but Eris was relentless, his determination unyielding. For every blow Beron landed, Eris struck back harder, his flames scorching through his father's defenses.

In the end, it was not just Eris's power that won the battle, but his resolve. With a final, devastating blast of fire, Eris overwhelmed Beron, the flames consuming him completely. Beron's screams echoed through the halls, but Eris did not relent until his father was nothing but ashes.

Breathing heavily, Eris stood over the remnants of his father, the reality of what he had done sinking in. He had killed Beron, ended the reign of terror that had plagued his family for so long. But there was no time to dwell on it. He had to find you.

Ignoring the stares of the palace staff and the whispers that followed him, Eris continued his search, his heart heavy with the weight of his actions. He had to find you, to make sure you were safe. Nothing else mattered.

As he raced through the palace, his mind was filled with thoughts of you—your smile, your touch, the love he had realized too late. He prayed he wasn't too late to make things right, to save you and your child from the fate his father had so callously decreed.

And then, as he turned a corner, he saw a familiar figure running towards him. Lucien, his face pale with worry, his eyes wide with fear. Eris's heart clenched at the sight of his brother, but there was no time for reconciliation now.

"Eris!" Lucien shouted, skidding to a halt in front of him. "You have to come quickly! She's in danger!"

Eris's blood ran cold. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with urgency.

"She's in the alley, near the east gate," Lucien panted. "She needs help, Eris. She needs you."

Without another word, Eris took off, his heart pounding with fear and determination. He would find you. He would save you. And nothing, not even the memory of his father's cruelty, would stand in his way.

Eris and Lucien raced through the palace halls, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The urgency in Lucien's voice had ignited a fire within Eris, and his only thought was to reach you as quickly as possible.

As they sprinted, Lucien glanced sideways at Eris, his brow furrowed with confusion and worry. "Eris, why didn’t you respond when I called out to you earlier? I saw you in the streets, but you just kept walking. I thought something was wrong."

Eris's mind raced, trying to recall the moment Lucien was referring to, but it was a blur. The past weeks had been a haze of anger, regret, and self-imposed isolation. "I didn’t hear you, Lucien," he said, breathless, his tone tinged with frustration. "I’ve been… dealing with things."

Lucien's eyes flashed with a mix of concern and exasperation. "You didn’t hear me? Eris, I shouted your name. You looked right at me, and then just walked away."

Eris shook his head, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I was lost in my thoughts. I had to get away, to think. Everything with her, with you… it was too much."

Lucien’s expression softened slightly, but the urgency in his voice remained. "I understand, brother, but right now she needs us. She’s in labor, Eris, and we need to get to her before it’s too late."

The words hit Eris like a physical blow. Labor. The baby was coming, and he wasn’t there for you. His heart pounded harder, and his pace quickened. "I won't let her down," he vowed, more to himself than to Lucien.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006 @rosewood-cafe @saltedcoffeescotch @dumblani @paleidiot @rcarbo1 @yourmomsushi

[elrielffs]

Elain was raised as a lady with certain expectations drilled into her from childhood. Be beautiful, be feminine, be demure, be the perfect lady and get a good husband and bear children. This was paramount. This was her life's plan. Do not question it. This was the limit for Elain, the best outcome she could hope for--she could be no more and no less. And Elain did as she was told because she didn't know any better and because Elain's fault is complacency. She performed perfectly.

When we first meet Elain in the cottage, she comes off as nice but dim. We know that she is painted as a "bad sister" alongside Nesta and I know a lot of people like to say "well why does Elain get a pass and Nesta doesn't?" And I think that comes down to where their actions and feelings come from. Elain was never intentionally mean to Feyre, Elain never acted out of maliciousness, she was neglectful sure, but Elain never went out of her way to cause Feyre harm, unlike Nesta.

Elain was used to being taken care of, either emotionally by Nesta or provided for by Feyre and this caused her to fall into a sense of complacency since nothing was expected of her. She accepted the situation and depended on others to change/fix/manage the problems around her and her family while holding on to hope and trying to make the best of the situation to what she thought was the best of her ability. (Selling flowers she grew, getting Feyre paint etc, always trying to be kind)

And when we see Elain again after Feyre leave's Spring Court the first time--Elain is back in the element that she was raised for and flourishing. Everyone loves her, her gardens are spectacular, and her family's standing in society has risen again. The plan for her life is back on track she plays the part perfectly again.

In ACOMAF, the trend continues. She's a wonderful hostess, great communicator, can run a household, is a master at balls and has secured a good marriage and wealthy fiance. She’s complacent with her lot and life and has the happiness that others told her she should want.

Elain thinks she is doing everything right. She endured with her family during the years they were poor and now continued to blossom after all the hard times have passed and accomplished everything that was expected of her and a bonus--she loved her husband to be!

Then the cauldron.

Kidnapped in the middle of the night by fae she's been taught to fear her whole life.

Terror.

The first into the cauldron. Will she drown? Will something worse happen? What about Grayson, what about her marriage, what about this life that she has cultivated perfectly to everyone's standards for her?

Elain is turned fae--Grayson and his family hates the fae.

Elain is claimed by a fae male who she doesn't know, but knows that he was on the side that caused this to happen to her.

And Elain now has powers. Powers that confuse and trick her. Are they hallucinations? Is she going crazy? Is she in the past, present, future?

But it will all be okay, right? It has to, she did everything right. She did everything right.

She see's Grayson, the man she loves, who loves her, who she shared her body with. He'll love her, he'll accept her, and everything will be okay. A mate, powers, being turned fae--it means nothing because Grayson loves her and she will be able to continue on like before.

Except, she can't stay at her home where she had carefully cultivated the life she was supposed to have.

She can't stay among humans but has to be among fae, a race she knows nothing about and has been taught to fear all her life.

And worse of all, Grayson doesn't love her. He rejected her most cruelly.

Everything in shambles. This wasn't supposed to be happen. She did everything she was supposed to--she had everything she was supposed to want. This wasn't supposed to happen.

She did everything right.

She said all the right things. She did all the right things.

It wasn't enough.

Now she has to start over--in a new place with new people. Her sisters are there, Nesta angry and simmering, Feyre important and busy in the life she had made for herself, the life she deserved.

Elain withers. There was no point to any of it. Everything is murky and dark. There is nothing. No one sees her---her.

Then a light. She is seen. Her powers that have haunted her have been given a name. A Seer.

Slowly she begins to recover--to her standards. Making the best of the situation, carving out a new life for herself in a way she wasn't able to before. She gardens, she bakes, she makes new friends with Nuala and Cerridwen. More of her true personality start to come through. She does everything at her own pace. She doesn't go to balls, she doesn't play hostess, nothing is expected of her here.

Except--the mating bond.

She is told that the mating bond is important in fae culture, that bonds are sacred--that because a fae male she doesn't know claimed her as his mate she should talk to him, get to know him, accept the bond. This is what is expected in this new fae culture she is now unwillingly apart of.

It's expected that she'll accept the bond, become his "bride" so to speak, have his children.

Except--she's already done that. She's already done that. She perfected that.

She did everything right and it ended in disaster and here, it's being asked of her again and she doesn't even know or love this male.

No. Not again.

She will not do it again.

Elain was stripped of all autonomy. This is her way of gaining it back. She can't make Grayson love her, she can't become human again, but she can reject the male that everyone says has a claim on her.

Elain is living on Elain's terms now. Elain is doing what she wants and what she expects of herself. We already see her beginning of growth in ACOSF--offering to help scry for the trover rather than depend on others to handle the situation.

I hope a part of her journey reflects that--having Elain find out that her limit is so much more than she has been led to believe, that she is so much more than a pretty lady in a dress, that she can be who she wants to be without repercussions. That people will love her as she is and not what she is expected to be.

That she can make her own choices, what she does, who she loves, how she acts. No longer complacent with what others expect or assume for her.

[deluluwrites]

Florist!Barbie x Ryan Gosling!Ken Part 2

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

✨Part 1

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐The next morning in BarbieLand, the sun rose to reveal a picturesque little town where every Barbie had their own unique career and style. Florist Barbie, with her vibrant personality and a love for all things floral, woke up in her charming pink dreamhouse.

As the morning sun cast its gentle glow upon her dreamy pink bedroom, Florist Barbie slowly opened her eyes and yawned. She had been up late the previous night, lost in her thoughts and emotions.

Unbeknownst to her, dark circles had formed underneath her usually sparkling eyes. Oblivious to her tired appearance, she went about her normal routine, putting on a brave face. "Just a bit tired," she thought, trying to shake off the exhaustion. Oh well," she shrugged, "a little yawn won't stop me from having a beautiful day!"

Unaware of her own appearance, she proceeded with her morning routine, putting on her cheerful smile and preparing to welcome customers to her beloved flower shop. Little did she know that her usually vibrant eyes were now adorned with noticeable dark circles, a sign of the sleepless night she had endured.

As usual, she gracefully went about her morning routine. She watered all of her lovely flower arrangements, rearranged some delicate blooms, and prepared the shop for the day ahead. She loved her flower shop, and the sweet fragrance of blossoms filled the air.

Just as she was arranging the freshest blooms in a vase, the chime above the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of a familiar face– Allan, her caring and inquisitive friend. Concerned by her sudden departure from the party the previous night, Allan had come to check on her.

He had a worried expression on his face. “Hey there," he greeted warmly, "I wanted to see how you're doing after last night. You disappeared and everyone was asking about you."

Florist Barbie sighed, recalling the heartache she felt. “I couldn't bear watching Stereo Ken with Stereo Barbie. I... I've always been in love with Ken, but she doesn't even like him," she confessed, her voice tinged with sadness.

Allan's gaze softened, and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said sympathetically. But then, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and gasped. “Barbie, did you even notice the dark circles under your eyes? This is serious!"

Confused, Florist Barbie rushed and grabbed her compact mirror out of her purse in order to check her reflection, her eyes widened in shock. "Oh no, what is happening to me?" she exclaimed. "I didn't even realize! It must be from all the crying I did last night.”

Allan’s jaw dropped. “ You cried? But Barbies can’t cry! This is unheard of!" Allan exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Florist Barbie sighs shaking her head. “I know, I know. It's just that... well, it's about Ken I think," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh no," Allan sighed, understanding her predicament. "Barbie, you need to go see Weird Barbie right away. This sounds like a serious malfunction."

Florist Barbie nods in agreement, knowing that Allan was right. Weird Barbie was known for her unique knowledge and understanding of all Barbie malfunctions. "You're probably right, Allan. I'll visit Weird Barbie today. But first, let me give you these flowers as a thank you for being such a good friend."

Allan smiled and accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Barbie. Just promise me you'll see Weird Barbie and figure out what's going on with you.” Florist Barbie promises her friend and bids him goodbye.

Just then, Florist Barbie spots Stereo Ken through the window, making his way towards her shop. Panic set in, as she desperately wanted to avoid him but she knew he wouldn’t leave without a bouquet.

Thinking quickly, Florist Barbie grabbed a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses from her purse and put them on, hoping to hide her dark circles. She rushed to create a beautiful bouquet for Stereotypical Ken, trying to finish quickly so she could leave and seek help from Weird Barbie.

Determined to avoid any awkward encounters, Florist Barbie continued to pre-make a bouquet for Ken. She hoped to give it to him quickly and escape before he could start a conversation. However, Ken was known for being talkative, and today was no exception.

"Hey, Barbie! How's it going?" Ken greeted with a big smile, entering the shop. “Hi, Ken! I'm doing well, just busy with the flowers," she replied, trying to keep her composure while focusing on the bouquet.

“Can I get my daily bouquet for Barbie?" Florist Barbie's heart raced as she tried to keep her composure. "Sure, Ken. Here you go," she said, handing him a lovely bouquet without making direct eye contact.

Ken noticed her sunglasses and raised an eyebrow. "Why the shades indoors, Barbie?" Florist Barbie looks up directly at Ken through her glasses. “Oh, you know, just trying out a new look," Florist Barbie stammers, hoping he wouldn't see through her facade.

But Ken was talkative by nature and continued, "You know, I can't help but think Barbie enjoyed dancing with me last night. She seemed to be having a great time, and I think she even laughed at one of my jokes. I thought it was finally gonna be my night and then she told me to leave because it was Girl’s Night and only girls are allowed. What do you think, Barbie?”

Florist Barbie's heart sank further, but she knew she had to get out of there. “I think that’s great, Ken! You two looked marvelous on the dance floor. You should definitely ask her out," she encouraged, trying to sound cheerful.

“Oh I’ve got an idea! Maybe I should bring her two bouquets.” Ken exclaims excitedly disregarding the nervous lip bite from Florist Barbie. “Oh Ken! That is an amazing idea but I would wait to do that on your first date.” Florist Barbie says as she manages to steer him toward the exit.

"Well, I hope she loves the flowers, Ken. Gotta run now, though. Busy day ahead!" she says trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Oh okay. Thanks again Barbie.” Ken says seeming slightly puzzled by her abruptness but thanks her for the flowers nonetheless. As he left, Florist Barbie let out a sigh of relief, grateful to have avoided any emotional confrontation.

Determined to figure out the cause of her malfunctioning emotions, Florist Barbie finally makes her way to Weird Barbie's unique and mysterious abode. The eccentric Barbie, known for her quirky experiments and odd but effective remedies, welcomes Florist Barbie with a knowing smile.

"Ah, my dear, I've been expecting you," Weird Barbie said, gesturing for Florist Barbie to sit down.

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

✨Tag List✨ @freyafriggafrey @meowkid1000 @savagemickey03 @goldencherriess @not-gone-yet-bitch @derusaert @yourm0m909 @aremos @momos-peaches @jokersgrf @imogen-skye @alathan13 @peary-smol @soowhyune @urahara24 @iwdbipp

[hunny-beann]

You Can; You Will...

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi! This is my first time ever writing for Dream, so if anything seems a bit off or if there are any minor lore issues, please do your best not to pay them too much mind (although absolutely feel free to point them out). That said, I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I really hope that you enjoy it!

Warnings: Uh angst(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he should be.

Word Count: 2,644

This had to be torture, surely.

Some evil method of malice created by some long forgotten god of pain.

Why else would Dream have been looking at you so?

Here, sitting in his rotting throne room, upon his crumbling dais, his expression as close to pained as you had ever seen it before.

"You have returned."

He stated matter of factly, though his eyes betrayed the solemn tone that his voice held.

It had hurt him to come back to his realm and find that you had gone with the others, more so than you ever could have anticipated or imagined. You could see it in the way that his fingers gripped at the arm rests beneath them, and in the way that his all encompassing presence seemed to shrink slightly, as if the very particles of him and his power that made up the world beneath your feet were attempting to flee from you.

You swallowed thickly, but managed a nod in spite of your nerves and the heavy weight that bore down upon your heart at the sight of the being before you.

"I have. I did not anticipate it, but I found that I was suddenly overcome with the urge to..."

The words 'go home' died upon your lips before you could say them, because in truth, you were not entirely sure if this realm truly was home anymore, not just for you, but to anything besides the endless sitting before you and his most loyal of dreams and nightmares.

His own creations.

Dream let out a soft hum in response to your words, before he carefully rose into a standing position, his coat swishing at his feet in that familiarly dramatic way that you remembered so painfully at present, and had once recalled so fondly in the past.

Now though, after over a century of having it as only a memory, a longing lodged deep within the confines of your soul, you found that it almost hurt to bear witness to his familiarities again.

You had buried the Morpheus you had once known in all ways but the physical sense, mourned and grieved him as if you had watched his demise with your own two eyes, never having a day pass you by where you did not think of him and the way that his voice had sounded, or that his hands had felt.

And now, he was standing before you so casually, and you could not help but view this figure before you as a caricature, some imposter sent to cause you even more pain than you had already endured.

Being an immortal human was a burden in and of itself, because it meant watching nearly all those that you loved die in the span of a lifetime, which to you, had long since started to feel like nothing in the grand scheme of things.

You had begged Death to take this weight from you, to let time have its way with your body, bones, and soul, but Destiny had seen to it that his sister knew better than to meddle with this particular affair.

A long dead family member had blessed you with what they perceived to be a "gift" long ago.

And now, you suffered while they lay buried in the ground in lands you had not seen nor touched in centuries.

So, once upon a time, Dream had meant everything to you.

Ever since the day you had met him, after once again grovelling with Death to let you go, he had become abundantly special in your eyes.

Because unlike almost everyone else around you, Dream could not die, not from the ticking of any clock, nor the feebleness of his own body.

He was the one thing you believed to be permanent.

And certainly, it had taken quite a while to warm up to the man, and far longer still for him warm up to you, but after enough impromptu meetings in Death's domain over multiple centuries, he had eventually indulged you when you asked hesitantly if you could see his realm, 'the dreaming' as he so fondly referred to it, for yourself.

And oh, what a sight it had been.

Lush rolling lands, fields upon fields of flowers, a palace so tall it seemed possible to view it from miles and miles away...

You had never wanted to leave.

And eventually, you would not have to anymore.

Not after you had fled to the dreaming after losing your very best friend to disease, her death so dirty and without dignity that you could scarcely bare to even consider it.

He had sensed your arrival, of course he had, for the realm was made of the very power that he possessed, but he had not sensed your woes, nor had he anticipated your sudden presence in his crowded throne room, searching for any familiar face that might serve as a reminder that you were not without some semblance of certainty, to prove if nothing else that you were not yet alone.

You had all but collapsed at the foot of his throne, eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet with tears as you regarded him with a pain he was all too familiar with, but had no clue how to comfort you about.

Loss.

'I can't do it anymore.'

You had told him with absolute certainty, hands clenched into fists as you struggled to hold back sobs,

'I can't endure this torture, I feel as if I have died a thousand deaths without ever having experienced even one.'

Morpheus reached forward, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before he sat back once more, taking note of the way that, simply due to his touch alone, you were now giving him your entirely undivided attention, breaths shaky but eyes wide and trained on him, as if you had never been touched before, or maybe as if you had never expected him to touch you in the eternity that you would experience.

'You can.'

He said, voice steady and eyes cold, though almost determined looking as he spoke.

'You will.'

You felt your eyebrows crease at his words, but Dream simply shook his head slightly before you could even open your mouth to reply.

He watched you for a few moments, before finally, he decided that enough silence had passed.

'If it is easier, you may remain in the dreaming as long as you please. All I ask, is that you do not make me regret my kindness.'

Shocked, you had nodded, before finally mustering up the strength to respond.

'But why?'

You had asked, watching as the being sitting before you sighed, his gaze traveling up toward the ceiling as he spoke,

'You will not have to watch nearly as many crumble to dust here in my domain, and I can see the toll that your immortality is taking on your feeble human mind. My sister has taken a liking to you, and I do not doubt that she would want me to take pity upon your unfortunate circumstances. To preserve someone she calls a friend, I will allow you to reside here until you give me a reason not to.'

And you never had.

For so very long now, hundreds upon hundreds of years, you had remained almost entirely within the dreaming.

You had friends here, nightmares and dreams alike, although truthfully, none captured your attention in the way that Morpheus did.

And none captured his nearly as much as you somehow managed to.

You were close, bound by some firm understanding of one another that never ceased to solidify the fact that the dreaming was your home, the place where you belonged, and Dream the very host that so effortlessly kept you rooted.

Before, there had been almost nothing for you in the way of consistency or rhythm, and now, there was an ebb and flow, a push and pull, a beat to follow, and the biggest surprise of all was that you made up half of each of these things.

Where Dream would ebb, you would flow, where he would push, you would pull, and you so very easily followed along with and eventually even progressed and changed his rhythm in a way that almost made the dreaming feel as if it had two rulers.

The dream lord,

And his once missing other half, the muse of the very land beneath your feet, and of the wind within your hair.

Until one day, that all came to an end.

The king of dreamers left and did not return.

And you could not even dare try and pick up the pieces of his realm that he left behind.

It had been a shameful abandonment, one full of pain and grief, but only a few short years after Dream's disappearance, you grabbed the scarce few items that did not remind you of him or the family that you were leaving behind, and you vanished just as he had done.

At that point, the slow but sure crumbling of the dreaming had only just begun, but your cowardice had won out over your strength, and you'd quickly found that you could not bare to see it shrink into nothingness.

'You can.'

Dream had once told you.

'You will.'

He had assured.

But you could not this time.

You likely would not ever again.

You were not the first to leave the dreaming, not by a long shot.

But your absence and the meaning that it carried rang out loud and clear for all of those who had chosen to remain.

The once so honored and beloved guest of their lord of dreams had chosen her painful mortal world over anything that the realm had left to offer...

And for many, that was all the proof that they needed that their creator would not return.

You were far from the first to leave.

But you were even further from the last.

"Did you lose faith in me?"

Dream asked suddenly, and you felt yourself gasp slightly at the question.

Lose faith in him?

Was that what you had done?

With almost no consideration for the question, you shook your head.

"No."

You said firmly, watching as the endless in front of you tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes boring into your own even from across the room and down the ruined steps,

"Never."

Morpheus took a few steps toward you, and almost instinctively, you moved to lessen the space that lay between before forcing yourself to stop, hands clenched into fists at your sides, the pain of seeing your friend, who you had believed to be dead just hours ago, too great even for longing to overcome.

Dream seemed to notice this, and stopped in his tracks, though he was now far closer than before, only a few short steps away.

"Then why did you leave so easily? Why did you abandon the life that I offered you here if you had the faith required to know that I would someday return to the dreaming? Return to you?"

Your breath shuddered at the implication that he had come back in any part for you, but you chose to ignore his words in favor of fighting off his accusations of faithlessness on your part.

"I left because I could not bear to see this world that you created fall apart around me while I did nothing. It felt as if I were watching another loved one die, and I could not deal after believing that someone had taken your life as well. I was hurting, and I found that it was easier to hurt in the waking world, where pain was familiar, than it was to hurt here, where it never seemed to bite so hard. That is why I left. But I never once lost faith in you."

Dream raised a brow at that last part, and you were quick, to clarify,

"I may have thought you dead, but I did not once believe that if you were alive, you would not come back. My belief that you were dead, my certainty in that regard, came from the immense faith that I have in you, Lord Morpheus, because I could not fathom that you ever could have abandoned us or the dreaming... After years, I ceased being capable of thinking that you were somewhere out there anymore. I did not think it possible for anything to bind you so tightly away from your duties, if not for death herself."

Dream stared back at you in response to your words, as if taking them in for several long moments, before finally he nodded,

"I see. Though I do wish you would have considered the fact that I never would have allowed myself to die knowing what I would be leaving behind."

You sighed exasperatedly,

"But we know that you would not be the first to abandon your post, my lord, not the first to leave something as fickle as your universe given duties behind. Who could have blamed you if you died in spite of these things if others were able to willingly leave them?"

Your voice was small and quiet as you spoke, unsure of how Dream might react to the mention of Destruction, even when the wound was not necessarily new anymore.

You watched as the being before you stiffened, his gaze growing ever so slightly colder, before he spun around and began making his way back toward his throne, his tone firm and serious as he replied, still facing away from you all the while.

"I was not speaking of my duties to the dreaming."

He stated simply, though you could tell by his cadence that his words were anything but.

You sighed, exasperated and fragile after all that had been said thus far,

"Well what else was it that you were leaving behind that was so important that I should have known it would keep you alive then, Dream?"

The lord of the dreaming locked eyes with you as you finished asking this question, cold piercing gaze filling you with a deep regret and an immense longing as he sat upon his throne once more, one long leg crossing over the other as he all but stared into your very soul.

"You."

He said simply, voice low and gaze unwavering as he spoke, watching as that one word alone sent you staggering several steps backward, one hand clutching lightly at your chest as your feeble human mind tried to comprehend all that had happened to you in this one day alone.

"Me?"

You whispered, voice echoing slightly throughout the empty throne room in spite of how quiet it was.

"But I am not-"

"You are everything."

Dream cut you off before you could finish, eyes still boring holes into your own as he continued to watch you from his seat, as if knowing that if he moved any closer now, that you would run, run and likely never return for fear of what any of this meant for you and for the once permanent seeming fixture that Dream had so easily played within your life for so long.

You floundered at those words, vision growing bleary and spotty as you turned to rush out of the room, to be anywhere but this pale comparison of the dreaming, the once beautiful world that you had known for so very long.

You fled your home with tears in your eyes and a hand at your heart.

Dream stayed where he sat upon his throne, and watched your fears consume you again until you faded from view.

He did not try to stop you.

A broken home like this was no place for a fragile soul like yours.

And he could offer you no better than the very world he had once so kindly rescued you from.

[waynes-multiverse]

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”  

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.  

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​ @hobby27​ @fromcaintodean​

[deadlynavigation]

Pretty & Pink

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: request from @cecebabs !! school has been kicking my ass lately so just bear with me yall 🥲

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**gif is not meant to be a representation of what reader looks like**

Opposites attract—or at least, that’s what they said. Wednesday had never put any stock into the saying until he met you.

You were a bright little thing, full of happiness and hope and all the other disgusting emotions. But Wednesday endured, because at the end of the day, you held his heart in your manicured hand.

Every once in a while, though, he’ll question what he’s doing. Like tonight, for instance. It had been a long day. The errands that had been piling up over the week were finally accomplished a few hours ago, and it was exhausting. So exhausting that all he wanted to do was collapse in the nearest bed, no matter the owner or location. And since you didn’t want your partner to end up in some alleyway mattress, you dragged him over to your apartment, where he was currently camped out on your bed.

“You doing okay in there, sweetie?” You call to him from your bathroom, hands dripping with water as you rinse your cleanser off.

“Yes, my love. Are you done yet?” Wednesday calls back. He knows his question is in vain, though. Your skincare routine is a long ordeal, and you’ve only just started.

He hears your soft laughter float through the air. “I’ll be right out.” You respond, picking up a serum.

Wednesday decides he can’t wait, heading into the bathroom and settling behind where you stand. You greet him with a smile, picking up the next step of your routine to show to him.

“It’s a new moisturizer I got today,” You explain. “It’s supposed to be good for dry skin, and with all the nasty weather lately…”

Wednesday doesn’t hear the rest of your rant, focusing instead on those pretty eyes of yours. Oh, how he longs to drown in them. To sink into their depths, seeing the world from your hopeful view. Unpacking all your thoughts, understanding and empathizing.

Listen to him. He’s practically a puddle of mush. What have you done to him?

“...Wednesday, baby?” You tilt your head as Wednesday snaps back into reality. “Were you even listening?”

He takes one more second to stare at you before sheepishly shaking his head. “Deepest apologies, cara mia. There are simply too many pretty parts to you, I cannot focus on every one of them at once.”

You giggle, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Maybe I should turn away, then. Stop distracting you with my wiles.”

Wednesday smirks. “Turning away from me would entice me even more, Y/n. You really want to play that game?”

“Oh my god. Ok, I’m not facing you anymore. You’ve lost that privilege.” Your cheeks are on fire now, and if you maintain eye contact any longer, you’re worried you might burst into flames. True to your word, you pivot to face the mirror. Then, using your arms, you hop up onto the counter, climbing into the sink for an optimal view.

Wednesday nearly has a heart attack as you jump. His hands fall into place, ready to catch you or save your head from a nasty bang should your acrobatics go wrong, but once you’re in place, he sighs loudly.

“Must you do that, my love?” His seriousness is ruined by a smile creeping onto his face.

“Sorry, can’t hear you. This moisturizer requires my full attention.” It’s hard tamping down your own smile, but the teasing seems to be worth it as Wednesday’s stare darkens.

“The moisturizer gets your attention, hm? That’s a dangerous game, cara mia.”

You don’t respond, instead dipping your finger into the container and dotting it on your cheeks.

“Come down from that sink so we can see who really has your attention right now.” Wednesday taunts you. After a couple seconds, you give in, closing up the product and carefully setting it down before jumping back down onto the floor. Within seconds, Wednesday takes a step and sits on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you along at the same time. Before you know it, you’re sat on his lap, a smirk on his face and a shocked look on yours.

“Attention still on skincare, love?” Wednesday teases.

You give up on the facade. “No,” You breathe, leaning in. “But what if I share my attention with it?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow as you get up, reaching into the bottom drawer of the counter and coming back to him with a small package. You sit back down, ripping it open and tossing the top in the trash.

“Want a face mask?” You ask.

“Is that one of those grotesque concoctions that spreads all over your face? The one that looks like a death mask?” Wednesday questions, but you’re already reaching into the package.

“Exactly, baby. Want one?”

“...Sure.” What’s the worst that could happen?

Twenty minutes later, and Wednesday is set up on your bed with no intention of moving. A green substance covers the majority of his face, making him question why he doesn’t let you do this more often. He feels more relaxed than he has in weeks, settled in amongst your many pink throw pillows and cherry blossom sheets. You’re settled in too, resting your head on his chest while trying to sync your breaths with the steady thumps of his heart. Your manicured fingers etch random shapes into his skin, tracing the hard lines of muscle and adding a heart or two every so often.

Eventually, though, the both of you become restless.

‘Wanna start a movie?” Wednesday asks, looking down at your comfy self with adoration.

You look up, meeting his eyes with the same love. “Can I choose?”

“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you.”

An hour later, and Wednesday is ready to commit homicide. Of all the movies you could have picked, you went with Mean Girls. Your defense? “It’s the feminist movement at its finest, Wednesday.”

“It’s… very pink.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part! All the decorations and outfits are amazing. They were actually part of what inspired this room’s decor.”

Wednesday looks around at the brightly colored walls, the pastel curtains, the cute pillows, and even the pink pens scattered across your desk. “I never would’ve guessed, my love.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous.”

Wednesday chuckles. “Yes, very.” He agrees sarcastically. You don’t dignify him with a response, instead choosing to lay back down on his chest and go back to watching the movie. You don’t get to stay there for very long, though, because a minute later, the timer on your phone goes off.

“Mkay. Time to take this off, babe.” You poke his face mask. Wednesday rises without complaint, heading to the bathroom while you grab some water and a cloth. Internally, though, he’s begging you not to. It feels so nice, and having you apply it was one of the best feelings in the world.

As you start working through the layers of the mask with water and a gentle hand, though, Wednesday revises his thoughts—never mind the application. This was the best feeling in the world.

As you work, Wednesday leans into your hands. He would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for your whispered promises of comfy beds and pillows and cuddles.

*****

The next morning, Wednesday gets up much earlier than usual. The sun is just barely up, peeking through your pastel curtains and coating the bed in a buttery yellow. You’re burrowed into his arms, tucked safely into his chest with the messy blankets surrounding you. He takes a minute to absorb your cuteness, smiling down at you as he slowly wakes up.

“Good morning, Y/n.” He whispers, not yet wanting to wake you. You’ve reminded him time and time again that the blinking digits on the clock right now are not digits you ever want to be awake to see, and he’s taken that to heart. But he still has to kill time until you wake–maybe a run? He could drop by the gym just down the street that he really likes. Or maybe a chore? The dishwasher still needs to be unloaded.

But those all sound like too much work for this early in the day, so Wednesday settles on just getting you a coffee. A nice five-minute walk and your drowsy smile to greet him when he gets back. Perfect.

Within minutes, Wednesday is up and out. He strolls down the street, taking his time to enjoy the soft sunlight. That’s new, he suddenly realizes–and probably your doing, as well. You’re a fan of tilting your face to the sun, soaking in the warmth, and claiming the rays cheer you up. Maybe you’ve passed that onto him.

A couple more minutes tick by, and Wednesday reaches your regular coffee shop. He enters the place with a little jingle as the door opens, and is immediately greeted with the scent of dark coffee and light chatter.

“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” A too-happy employee asks him as he walks up to the counter.

Damn, what was that drink you really liked? Something with pink in it, he’s sure of it.

“Just two medium coffees, one black and one with that pink flavor, please.” Manners with normies–that’s another thing you’ve unknowingly reinforced with him.

“Our pink velvet flavoring?” That sounds right.

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.” Wednesday pulls out his card, handing it to the guy.

“Awesome. Name?”

“Addams.”

“We’ll have those coffees right out for you, sir.”

“Brilliant.” With that, Wednesday finds an isolated corner to haunt until his name is called, quickly grabbing the coffees and exiting the building. It’s an even quicker walk back with the warm drinks providing some heat on this chilly morning.

It’s a bit of a struggle, but Wednesday manages to buzz into the building, climb the stairs to your apartment, and work the keys until your door clicks open, all with his hands full. He’s greeted with the sight of you half-asleep on the couch, the news playing softly in the background.

“What are you doing up, love?” He questions, setting the coffees down on the coffee table and kneeling on the floor.

“Wanted to see you,” you mumble, grabbing for his hand and interlocking it with yours. “Was cold in the bed without you.”

Wednesday practically melts. How can one girl be so sweet and caring? So happy?

“I’m sorry, my love. But look, I got you that coffee you like to make up for it.” He gestures to the beverages with his free hand before resting it on your head. He goes about stroking your hair, lulling you back into a dreamlike state.

“Don’t do that, I’ll fall back asleep,” you bat at his hand, trying to get it out of your hair. You were up to see him, not to fall asleep on him.

“And I will still be here when you wake up, cara mia. Go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I love you.”