#so unbelieveably tired of men claiming their love for me when they do not. even. fucking. know me.

[ruralcat]

am i jaded or do men really just fucking suck

[slutforapsycho]

Liar

Summary: One too many nights in between the sheets with Rafe and JJ, the second time he had to save you and a kiss or two leaves you even more confused about your feelings for the handsome blonde boy that just so happens to be your boyfriend’s partner.

mob!jj x reader x mob!rafe fluff and angst (Takes place before Worth It and Consequences. I’ll link those here when I’m finished with them.) PSA: This is my work and you do not have my permission nor do you have the right to claim it as your own. With that being said, reblogs are always appreciated. :)

WARNINGS: unconsensual touching; attempted kidnapping; mentions drugs

With JJ around a lot more these days, you had more opportunities to go out. If you needed to go to the grocery store or run some errands and Rafe wasn’t around sometimes JJ was free, so you often used that to your advantage. You were unbelievably grateful when Rafe came up with the idea one afternoon when he needed to meet with his dad. He frowned when you told him you ran out of your mood stabilizers, but immediately suggested you take JJ instead. Ever since then, when Rafe wasn’t your body guard in public, JJ was.

Today was no different. You had a few things to do and you recruited JJ to tag along. He was more than happy to oblige and didn’t even complain when you dragged him into one of your “girly stores” as the boys liked to call them.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, a man had been following you all day. He was an enemy of Rafe’s. Asher Ridic. The son of Ward’s greatest rival, Damon Ridic. Next to the Cameron’s, the Ridic empire was one of the strongest in the crime industry. The father son duo was known to be as ruthless if not more than Rafe and Ward. With that being said, they always seemed to be more reckless and, often times, quite predictable, leaving the Cameron’s with the upper hand. Today, however, wasn’t one of those days.

Asher followed you and JJ all day. Store to store, somehow blending in enough to not seem suspicious. It took all day, but he was committed. Ever since his dad caught sight of you and Rafe together, you had been their ideal target, but they never seemed to get you alone and anytime they tried to follow you guys home, they somehow always got lost. Needless to say…he wasn’t gonna lose you this time.

Eventually, you and JJ stopped to get something to eat. By the time you were done, JJ was already on his second refill, but swore he didn’t have to go to the bathroom, so you continued on to complete your other errands. You were getting ready to tell JJ this was the last store, but he piped up before you had the chance.

“Are we almost done Angel? I’m getting tired. You wore me out last night.”, he said, winking at you before adding, “Plus…I kind of have to pee now.”, he finished, laughing when you giggled, shyly, and shook your head.

“I told you to go before we left Burger King.”, you said, shoving his shoulder lightly with your own. JJ stared at you for a moment. Eyes filled with love and adoration. You never caught on, which gave him a few extra seconds to study your face before he chuckled out a reply.

“That was before I finished my second sweet tea.”, he said, heart fluttering at the sound of your laugh hitting his ears again. Oh how he loved that laugh…

“Well then it’s your lucky day. We’re heading into our last store and I know there’s a bathroom in here.”, you said, opening the door to your favorite antique shop. When you walked in, you pointed JJ in the direction of the bathroom and he made you promise to stay right in front of the door to wait for him, but it was your favorite store and something immediately caught your eye. You looked at the bathroom door before making your way over to the cute knick knacks sitting a few feet away. Besides, the shelf was only a couple steps from the men’s bathroom and JJ said he’d only be a minute.

Needless to say, after you made it to the dainty, little trinkets some more peaked your interest a few more feet away and somehow you eventually ended up on the opposite end of the shop…conveniently, where Asher was waiting to make his move. He didn’t have time to waste, so he quickly made his way over to you and pretended like he was asking you a question about the store.

“Miss, do you know where I can find some old mason jars in here? I collect them.”, he said, smiling in your face as if he wasn’t getting ready to pull a knife on you. The sudden noise startled you and made you realize how far away you were from the bathroom. You turned around to face the stranger and nervously smiled back.

“Uh, yeah. I think they’re over here.”, you said, pointing behind him to a shelf closer to the door. You started walking towards it, but then you felt something on your back and the man was suddenly whispering in your ear.

“You move and this knife is going straight in your gut. Got it?”, he said, leading you to the door as you nodded in agreement, silently cursing yourself for wandering away from the bathroom door. Rafe had always warned you that something like this might happen. That’s why he never let you leave the house alone or out of his sight for even a few moments. He had done everything he could to prevent this from happening and you knew he’d blame JJ, but this one…was on you.

Once you were out of the shop, he led you down an alleyway on the side of the building. He pushed you into the wall behind a dumpster, so that nobody would see the two of you and held the knife to your throat.

“You make a sound and your dead. Understand?”, Asher asked, to which you slowly nodded. “Good girl.”, he finished, with a strange smile on his face. Usually, you would’ve loved being called a good girl, but it felt wrong coming from his lips and not JJ or Rafe’s. More than wrong. It felt disgusting.

“I get why Rafe likes you so much. You’re a pretty little thing aren’t ya? I just might keep you for myself.”, he said, bringing the knife up to lightly slide it down your cheek. Another thing that would turn you on…if Rafe was the one holding it. You shook your head “no”, a tear slipping from your eye and whispered a reply.

“Please-“, you started, but were cut off by his knife being pressed back to your throat.

“Now, I thought you understood the directions. I’m talking, you’re listening.”, he said, digging the knife harder into your throat. You swore if you were to breathe, it would’ve drawn blood.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours hmm? I seen his little side kick with you, but no Rafe. What kind of guy does that? Maybe if he really cared he’d make sure you were safe himself.”, he spat out, trying to get into your head, but it wasn’t going to work. His words had little to no effect on you. You knew how Rafe felt about you and some random thug wasn’t going to make you doubt that. It didn’t stop you from being scared of what this maniac was capable of, though.

“Now, how about I take you out of this alley, you tell me everything I want to know, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live and take real good care of you. How’s that sound sweetheart?”, he asked, with a nasty and suggestive smile, but before he could continue, a different, more familiar voice interrupted him.

“Yeah I don’t think that’s gonna happen dipfuck.”, JJ said from beside the two of you. Asher quickly pulled you to the middle of the alley to face JJ with the knife on your throat. All the while JJ, just as quickly, grabbed his gun and pointed it at him. You would’ve been scared that he would accidentally shoot you if you didn’t know any better, but JJ was a perfect shot and when you seen his gun, all you felt was relief. Leave it to J to bring a gun to a knife fight…I will forever be grateful for that handsome lunatic.

Asher let out an eerie laugh and pressed the knife a little harder into your throat making JJ grit his teeth.

“You move and she’s dead Maybank. Choose wisely.”, he said, holding you tight against his chest while keeping the knife steady and firm.

“Alright, well you so much as hurt a hair on her head and YOU’RE dead. How’s that sound?”, JJ said, keeping the gun pointed directly at him. Asher just laughed again and started swaying the two of you side to side. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, which made you grimace and JJ clench his jaw.

“Honestly, I think I’m just gonna take her with me. You know what they say, finders keepers losers, well…lose.”, he said, snickering when JJ rolled his eyes.

“Good luck with that.”, he said, steadying his gun, making Asher tighten the knife. You knew there would be a mark from that one, but you also knew that he would pay for it later.

“Oh yeah, I’m so scared Maybank. I think you and I both know who has the upper hand here.”, he said, bringing his free hand up to grip your hair and yank it back. With your face tilted towards the sky, he traced your jaw with the knife and brought it to your collarbone. Unbeknownst to him though, Asher had made a mistake.

When he had shuffled you to the side, he left JJ with a clear shot of his arm. As soon as the knife was far enough away from your throat, JJ shot him twice. Once in the shoulder and once a little lower on his bicep. The knife instantly dropped from his hand and you quickly ran over to JJ, tucking yourself behind him and clinging to his shirt. He stepped back towards you, but never took his eyes off Asher. He was wounded, clutching his arm in pain, knife long forgotten about, but JJ wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t a threat anymore and he couldn’t take any chances…not with you. He grabbed your hand and lightly pulled you behind himself. Once he was to Asher’s body, JJ kicked the knife away, leaned down and put the gun to his head.

“If you ever touch her again, I’ll cut off your limbs and feed them to you one by one. Choose wisely.”, he said, mocking Asher’s previous words before straightening himself out once more and turning around to usher you to the car. Before the two of you could make it out of the alleyway, Asher laughed and made a comment back to JJ.

“Damn Maybank. Gone soft for Rafe’s girl. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s slutting herself out for the both of y-.”, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence because as soon as he heard the word “slut”, JJ seen red, stomped over to him and kicked him as hard as he could in the rib cage, no doubt breaking some bones. Asher groaned loudly and JJ leaned down to speak to him again.

“Watch your fucking mouth, cunt.”, he said, before clocking Asher across the face with the butt of his gun. That was enough to knock him unconscious, but JJ couldn’t stop there. He propped Asher up against the side of the building and started wailing on him. His head swung side to side with each punch JJ landed to his face. You watched in surprise and shock as Ashers face slowly became bloodied and bruised. It was only for a second or two, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Or talk. Or do anything. You quickly snapped out of it once you heard voices from the street. If anyone found you right now JJ would go to jail and that would be a bigger problem than it was worth, so you made your way over to him and tried to start reasoning with him.

“Um…J? I think we should go.”, you said, not too loud, but surely not a whisper. However, JJ didn’t hear you. He could barely even see, that’s how angry he was. His vision was black and his ears were ringing. This guy had just basically called you a slut. He wasn’t gonna let him get away with that. No one called his girl a slut…except him…and Rafe.

You gave JJ a few seconds to stop hitting Asher, but he never did, which made you antsy. People were bound to come down this alley eventually and you couldn’t risk anyone taking JJ away…especially for murder.

“J, come on we gotta go. It’s not worth it.”, you said a little louder, making your way over to him as you spoke. He still couldn’t hear you over the sound of Asher’s voice in his head. “She’s probably slutting herself out for the both of you.” Fucking prick.

Meanwhile, you were in full panic mode. JJ clearly wasn’t worried about getting caught right now, but that was the only thing on your mind. You couldn’t care less about Asher’s bitch ass. If you weren’t in public, you would’ve just let him beat that asshole to a pulp, but you were in public and you couldn’t risk JJ doing time for this. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“JJ stop!”, you yelled. “We need to fucking go…now!”, you said, a little quieter, but just as stern. That did the trick. JJ quickly snapped his head to look at you. You softened your gaze at the sight of his flushed face and blown out baby blues. He was so worked up all because some nobody called you a slut and you were flattered to say the least, but mostly shocked. Sure, you knew JJ cared for you, but you didn’t expect him to almost kill somebody for you. In its own sick, twisted way…it was really sweet…and kind of hot…

He pushed Asher against the dumpster, so that he would be hidden a bit better and made his way over to you. You couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t come too close and sort of looked like a kicked puppy, but you didn’t mention it.

He didn’t say anything on the way back to the car, just made sure that you were slightly in front of him the whole time so that he could ensure your safety. Once you were there, he opened your door for you and you quietly thanked him, surprised when he didn’t respond.

When JJ got in the driver’s seat, tension filled the air. You couldn’t quite describe it, but all you knew was he was being weird and it was making you uneasy. Determined to get to the bottom of it, you came up with an idea that you knew would work.

“J? What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”, you asked, knowing the answer, but playing along with your plan. He quickly looked over at you for a second in shock, before fixing his gaze back to the road.

“Of course not. I thought you were mad at me.”, he said, confused at your question.

“Why would I be mad at you?”, you asked, wondering what was going on in his head. He’d just saved your life and you weren’t quite understanding how you could possibly be mad about that. JJ just shrugged at your question and quickly deflected it.

“You first.”, he said, not wanting to feel so vulnerable. You sighed and looked out the window.

“I mean, you asked me to stay by the bathroom and I wandered off. This one’s on me.”, you said, surprised when JJ let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, but that’s not your fault. He was probably following us for awhile and how were you supposed to know that some scumbag was stalking us all day? If anything, this one’s on me. I should’ve paid more attention.”, he said, gripping the wheel a little tighter at the thought of his carelessness.

“Is that why you thought I was mad at you? JJ you’re my personal body guard everywhere we go and I am so thankful for that. You had to pee. God forbid. Besides you saved me…again.”, you said, referring to how you and JJ met, earning a small chuckle from him that, in turn, made you smile. When you turned to look out the window again, you noticed that you were almost home, but you weren’t ready to go quite yet, so you quickly spoke up. “Hey can we stop somewhere before we go home? I’m not ready to be all cooped up again.”, you asked, looking over to him with hopeful eyes as if you didn’t already know his answer.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever you want.”, he said, smiling over at you when you clapped lightly in excitement. You gave him directions to a lake about 5 minutes away from the house you shared with Rafe and got out as soon as the car was in park. You rushed over to JJ’s side of the car and sent him a shy smile through the window. He shook his head and chuckled at you, before taking the keys out of the ignition.

As soon as the door was open, you were dragging him down a path by his hand, never taking time to notice the blush that crept on his face when your skin met his.

The path was steep and JJ could tell you were leading him up a hill, but when the two of you got to the top, he was shocked. From the top of the incline, you two had a perfect view of the entire lake. The sun was glistening through the trees and hitting the water, making the scene look even more ethereal. He was absolutely amazed at the sight before him, but when JJ looked over to ask you how you had found this place, his heart skipped a few beats. You were just standing there with a tender smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful scenery before you, but the only beauty he could appreciate was yours. You were perfect to him. The way your eyes sparkled as you drank in your surroundings. The way your hair was slightly messy from the wind. The way your face lit up the longer you two stood there. Damn…I knew I was into her, but I didn’t think I was in love.

When you finally looked over to him, he forgot what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t stop staring at you. He was sure he’d never seen something or someone so beautiful before. Between the view and the way you glowed at the sight of it, JJ found himself completely entranced by you. Unbeknownst to him though, his intense gaze quickly started making you nervous.

“What?”, you asked, trying to gauge the look in his eyes. JJ just smiled and shook his head, looking away from you to soak in the scenery once more. His reaction made you close the gap between the two of you and lightly shove him with a scoff.

“Whattt?”, you asked again with a little pout, but smiling when he stumbled back a bit. JJ moved closer to you until he was directly in front of you. If he had stepped any closer your chests would’ve been touching, but you wouldn’t of cared. You liked being close to JJ. It wasn’t until he moved his hand to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear that you got nervous again and his next words didn’t help.

“You just look stunning. Especially here, ya know? You’re practically sparkling sweetheart and it’s fucking mesmerizing.”, he said, moving his hand from your hair to caress your cheek. You felt your face heat up at his words and your heart beat a little faster when he leaned closer to you.

“Wh-What are y-you doing J?”, you muttered out. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, tell him that your relationship was purely a sexual one, but your heart wouldn’t let you tell that lie.

“Not anything you don’t want me to do Angel.”, he whispered back, slowly getting closer to your face as his eyes flicked between your own and your lips. “Tell me to stop.”, he said, challenging you in a flirty manner, but your head was too foggy to say much of anything. Once JJ’s nose was touching yours you closed your eyes and let out a sigh. The feeling of his breath on your lips almost made you lean in, but guilt started creeping it’s way inside of you, so you pressed your hands against his chest. You didn’t put in any effort to push him away, but it made him stop moving closer. He instantly dropped his spare hand to rest on your waist as he lightly rubbed circles into the skin of your cheek.

“Just tell me to stop.”, JJ huffed out, wanting more than anything to just close the distance between your lips, but he also wanted to respect you.

When you didn’t say anything and you didn’t push him away, JJ moved slightly closer to you making his lips brush across yours ever so lightly that it made your breath hitch in your throat. He gave you a few more seconds to let you turn him down before softly kissing you. You instantly moved your hands to his hair and he dropped his other hand down to hold your waist. The two of you were already familiar with each other, having kissed dozens of times, but this was different. You couldn’t put your finger on it for a second, too wrapped up in the man in front of you to think of anything else, but then it dawned on you. This was the first time that you had ever kissed JJ outside of the bedroom. The first time that you had ever kissed him without the promise of sex afterwards. It was still passionate, but it was special in a way that you couldn’t even describe. I could kiss him this way for hours, you thought, until Rafe popped into your head. He had always made it clear that the relationship between you and JJ was strictly a sexual one, but only when he was around. When you and JJ were alone, you were supposed to act like you were “just friends”. As if you hadn’t seen each other naked or done…other things a billion times.

“JJ’s not your boyfriend. No sense acting like he is. You’re mine.”, Rafe had said, before proving it to you by fucking you on the kitchen counter…and then again on the couch…and then again in front of your bedroom mirror. Needless to say, you were made completely aware of the fact that you and JJ were just supposed to be “friends with benefits”, yet here you were, breaking Rafe’s rules. As the feeling of guilt slowly crept over you, you found yourself pulling away from JJ just enough to speak to him without making your lips touch again. You kept your eyes closed and your forehead against his, voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“JJ, we can’t.”, you breathed out into the thick air that sat between the two of you. It wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t used to getting what you wanted anyway and it was pretty much a catch 22 in the first place. If you continued breaking the rules with JJ, you would feel like you’re betraying Rafe, but on the other hand, part of you longed to defy Rafe’s wishes, just sit in JJ’s arms for hours and get to know him better. It felt wrong to you, being in love with two men, but in some weird way, it also felt right.

“Why? I know you want me and I want you…so bad.”, he whispered back, stepping the slightest bit closer to you, so that your lips were barely touching once again. You leaned into him more and almost kissed him, but you tilted your head down so that your noses were still touching, but your lips were not.

“You know why.”, you said, softly kissing his cheek, but that just upset him, making JJ pull away from you completely. Your eyes immediately shot open to see him running his fingers through his hair and lightly shaking his head, before snapping at you.

“See that’s what I’m talking about. You’re not just lying to me and Rafe, you’re lying to yourself too.” …Ouch

“J, plea-.”, you started, but JJ quickly cut you off.

“No. Okay. Just no, Y/N. I’ve tried to understand, you know, I get it. You love Rafe. But I know what rests beneath those lies that you tell yourself to help you sleep at night. I know that you love me too. I can see it in your eyes. You might have Rafe fooled and maybe even yourself, but not me.”, he said, before turning around and walking back to the car.

You stood in shock for a few moments, dazed by the rollercoaster of emotions that you had to endure for the entire day, but you didn’t want to lose JJ so you let your feet carry you back down the path. All that you could think of on the way down was what he had said to you and it wasn’t until you reached the car that you realized something strange.

Almost getting kidnapped wasn’t nearly as scary as the thought of losing JJ over a few baseless lies. What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Sidenote: ending sucks as always BUT I have lots of fics coming to make up for that it just might take me a little while to finish them, but they’re on the way. that includes the requests I’ve gotten <3

tagging: @maybankforlife @halsmultibitch @pixelated-pogues

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 12

masterlist

Y/N froze, staring at Namjoon like a cornered animal while Namjoon had her pinned down like that sharp, dark gaze that reminded her so much of a predator. 

“What others, Y/N?” he growled, getting impatient with her silence. 

“Namjoon…” 

“What others.” he demanded, slamming a hand down on the table startling both Y/N and Moni, and yet she said nothing simply staring at him with wide, apprehensive eyes while her fingers clutched the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white. Namjoon took a deep breath, leaning back in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down even though his words still came out gruff and annoyed. “What others, Y/N?” 

“Don’t yell at me!” she snapped, standing up from her chair, chest heaving as she stared him down. 

“What others?” he growled, returning her harsh stare. 

“You don’t get to yell at me, not now.” 

He sighed, taking another deep breath. Despite the tension and high emotions, he knew she was right. He had no right to yell at her about things that happened before they met, and he knew that she had been through hell before him. Yelling at her and demanding answers wasn’t going to do either of them any good. It never did. 

“I shouldn’t have shouted.” his voice was softer now, an attempt on his part to be more soothing, especially as she looked like a frightened rabbit. “I need to know what others, jagi.”  he took one of her shaking hands gently in his, treating her like the fragile doll she seemed like in that moment. 

“Were there other pregnancies? Before?” she nodded slowly, eyeing him warily as he carefully steered her back into her chair. “When you were with Marcus, you were pregnant?” she nodded again. “Can you tell me about them, jagi?” 

“There were two.” she admitted staring down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers. “The first didn’t get very far. I was only a few weeks along when I lost it.” 

“And the other?” Namjoon asked, almost scared of the answer he was going to receive.  

“I was five months along.” one of her arms came up to curl protectively around her belly. 

Namjoon could see the way her hands were shaking, the distant almost haunted look in her eye, and it pained him. “What happened, jagi?” 

“I was twenty one weeks. It was a boy” she smiled sadly “but there was so much blood, and I couldn’t get to the  hospital. Marcus wouldn’t…. He left. I shouldn’t have made him angry. I knew- I knew better.” she blinked back tears, and Namjoon had to tamp down his growing rage, not towards her but towards the man who had put her through this. “By the time I got to the hospital it was too late to do anything. There wasn’t much they could have done anyway.”  she shuddered at the memory. “The baby had been in distress for too long, and he came breech.  There was nothing they could do. He was… he was too little, and it was too early. He couldn’t...” 

Namjoon stopped her, pulling her into her arms as she trembled, gently stroking her hair as she began to cry. There was nothing he could say to make this better, nothing he could do no matter how much he wanted to. 

“You gave birth?” he asked, the horrible realization, the full extent of what she must have gone through sweeping over him. She hadn’t just been pregnant. She’d given birth to a child, traumatically, and the child hadn’t survived. From the sound of it, there was nothing she could have done, nor was the loss naturally occurring. Part of him regretted asking her, for making her relive this memory, but he needed to know, and knowing what she had been through, he only loved her more. She was so unbelievably strong.

She laughed tearily, a fond but terribly sad smile passing over her features. “He was alive for about twenty minutes. I held him until he passed.” 

“What was his name?” 

“Noah. His name was Noah. I buried him at the little cemetery just past the bridge.” 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, gathering her into his arms again. “I’m so sorry, jagi.” 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t breath after it happened. I couldn’t look at him. That’s when I met Jackson.” she admitted a more rueful smile taking over her features. “He gave me an out, and I made them pay.” 

So many things made sense now. A missing piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, and suddenly it all made sense. He’d known she was in a bad situation with Marcus. He knew she had only entered the relationship to try to provide for herself and her sister, but it never made sense why she toppled a whole criminal organization to escape. Something about it just never seemed to fit with what he knew of her, but losing a child was just the sort of catalyst that would send her down that path. 

His poor sweet Y/N had been through more than he could have ever imagined, more than even he had been through, but that was part of the reason he loved her, part of the reason she was perfect for him. She had seen the same darkness he had been raised in, and yet she was nothing like the women he had known in his youth, nothing like his mother had been. 

Namjoon’s memory of his mother was vague. He was only a child the last time he’d seen her, but he could remember the drugs, the bottles of alcohol. He remembered the dingy half basement they lived in, how it always smelled faintly of mold. He remembered the men- lovers, loan sharks, dealers, and none of them had anything against knocking around a scrawny kid from the bad side of town. His mother had allowed it all. Nothing mattered to her except getting her next fix. Even as a child, Namjoon had known he was meant for more. He was so much smarter than the other children, so much better, and he wanted better for himself. It seemed impossible though. What could a child do to get himself out of the gutter? And then Si-Hyuk came. 

Namjoon had been only eight at the time, but he could remember that day so clearly. Si-Hyuk had come to their home looking for him and his mother. He hadn’t known that he had an uncle before that day. It had always just been him and his mother, but suddenly there was this man claiming to be his mother’s half brother. His mother was out most likely meeting her dealer or one of the loan sharks she owed money too, so it had just been Namjoon and Si-Hyuk in the apartment. 

Si-Hyuk was a wealthy man, a powerful man, but he lacked one thing, an heir. He needed a son to carry on the business, but his wife had failed to provide one before her untimely death. He could have simply adopted a child, but he wanted an heir of his own blood, someone with the blood of his father and his grandfather. It was a family business, and he wanted it to stay in the family, but Si-Hyuk had no siblings, no legitimate ones anyway, but there was one woman. 

His father had had a daughter with one of his mistresses. Both the woman and the child had left soon after. His father had had no use for an illegitimate daughter, but Si-Hyuk had use for her now. It was a long shot, but if there was any chance that his sister had had a son, he had to take it. So he’d gone looking for her, and lo and behold, there was indeed a son. They found the perfect solution for both of their problems within each other. Si-Hyuk wanted a son, and Namjoon wanted out of the gutter, to be away from the mess of a woman he called a mother. There was only one problem, the woman herself. She might not have cared about Namjoonj, but she was a greedy woman by nature, and if she had thought there was anything to be gained from her son, she would cling to him like a leech. Everything would have been fine if Namjoon and his uncle had been able to leave before she returned. She never would have known what had happened to her son nor would she have cared, but she had come stumbling home just as Si-Hyuk and Namjoon were preparing to leave.

Distaste was too mild of a word to describe how both Si-Hyuk and Namjoon had felt about the woman before them. She might have been a beauty once, but a life of bad habits had degraded that beauty until she was nothing but a shell of the woman she had been, rotted from the inside out. She wasn’t willing to let go of her son without ensuring a life of comfort and debauchery for herself, and Bang Si-Hyuk was not a man to be blackmailed, so he’d given young Namjoon a choice: him or his mother. Only one could live, and Namjoon was nothing if not a survivor.

 “Nothing will ever… I  promise nothing will ever happen to our baby. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” He urged, holding her tight to his chest. 

She was a survivor too, but she didn’t have to be anymore. He was there to take care of her now. If only he’d found her sooner, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that she was here now. She was here in his arms, pregnant with his child, and nothing would happen to either of them. 

“You can’t promise that.” she shook her head, pushing on his chest so she could stare up at him with those fathomless eyes of hers. “You don’t know.” 

But he did know. This was his kingdom, and he made the decisions here.

“I promise you, jagiya, you will never lose another child. I won’t let that happen, not again.” she stared at him, brows furrowed in uncertainty. It was sweet in its own way. Logically, she knew there was no way for him to keep that promise. There was no real surety, but it was nice nonetheless. “As long as I’m beside you, nothing will happen.” he promised again, and she melted into his arms, too tired to fight both emotionally and physically, something Namjoon was quick to notice. 

“Why don’t we go inside, jagi?” he murmured, still holding her close. “You’re tired, and you shouldn’t overdo it.” 

“Okay.” 

Namjoon helped her up from her chair and led her back into the house with Moni trailing at their heels. Miss In stood guard just past the door waiting for the couple to come back inside. 

“We’ll take breakfast in the master bedroom. Y/N is tired and needs to rest. Another day of bed rest wouldn’t hurt.” she had a feeling that the last comment was directed more at her than it was his faithful housekeeper.  

“Of course, sajangnim.” 

Namjoon treated her like glass as he led her back to their room. One arm was wrapped around her waist to steady her while the other held her hand as though she was going to stumble and fall at any moment. She wasn’t, but she was grateful for the extra support. She didn’t talk about her other babies often, and each time it filled her with the same soul numbing sadness. 

Soon enough breakfast was over, and Y/N had been put back to bed with Namjoon beside her, keeping her tucked protectively into his side as he put on a movie for them to watch. Apparently, he had no plans to leave her today. 

As for Namjoon, he had always known that she was meant for him, ever since that first night. Everytime she challenged him, everytime he learned something new about her and her past, it only strengthened that conviction. She was perfect for him in every way. She was smart, beautiful, unbelievably strong, and she was his. They were both survivors, and what’s more, she was everything his mother wasn’t. Y/N would do anything to protect her family. She would fight for them till her last breath, sacrifice anything including herself. His mother had thrown away everything on drugs and liquor in a vain attempt to make her life better. He was happy the day she died. He’d been happy to be the one to shoot her.  The world was better off without her, but the same couldn’t be said for Y/N. 

She was light. She was music. She was everything, and he would tear the world to pieces for her. Anyone who hurt her, anyone who tried to take her from him would pay. Nothing was going to keep Namjoon from having his perfect family. 

part 13

[partiallysame]

League of Villains Imagine

Title: Can I Join Your Club?

Summary: y/n wants to join the LOV and unexpectedly shows up at their hideout

Pairing: Slight Dabi x reader but more just interactions with the LOV members

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Language, mentioned sexual relations, slight gore (small part and not very detailed)

Note: Inspired by the song Cry by Ashniko ft. Grimes, lyrics will be in bold

Shigaraki, Toga, Kurogiri, Twice and Dabi were all in their abandoned warehouse hideout trying to plan their next move. Tomura and Kurogiri were sitting at a table across from Toga who was sharpening her knives. Dabi was across the room smoking with Twice. The conversation was more casual than constructive and the room was relaxed until a random voice appeared.

“Hi there” y/n spoke up, her voice cheery and kind. No one knew she was even in the room let alone how the fuck she got there. As soon as she spoke everyone tensed, Shigaraki and Kurogiri were on their feet.

“Y/n” Dabi said as he dropped his cigarette and put it out with his foot, his voice a mixture of surprise and slight annoyance. Twice’s head snapped towards him, confused as to how he knew this stranger. Almost as soon as Dabi said her name she spoke again.

“Dabi, you Fucking Fuckboy dont fuck up my plans,” she snapped at the man with the fire quirk, her voice clearly irritated and angry.

“Stop. Who are you and what do you want?” The group’s leader finally spoke up, now standing a few feet away from the intruder. He was staring at her through Father, her hair half up/half down, a skirt similar to Toga’s and an unbelievable amount of cleavage spilling from her shirt. She didn’t look dangerous, and definitely didn’t look like she belonged here. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry where were my manners? Hi, I’m y/n and I would like to join the League of Villains” The anger that was in her voice just a moment ago had dissipated and it was once again cheerful and kind. She was rocking back and forth on her toes while she spoke and her arms slightly swinging until she raised one up in an attempt to shake Shigaraki’s hand. Not a fan of the action Tomura grabbed the girl’s wrist and she tensed. Toga hadn’t been too interested in the situation until now and she sat up in her chair.

“Shigaraki” Dabi interrupted the interaction with a warning tone of voice, knowing what was about to happen. He could sense Kurogiri’s hesitation about the situation but Dabi knew Kurogiri was worried about the wrong person using their quirk. 

“Who do you think you are to walk in here with so much confidence, you clearly don’t know what you are up against girl.” the words were being spat out of Shigaraki’s mouth and he tightened his grip on her wrist as a warning sign, until his fingers lost their grip on her and his hand closed into a fist. Wait what he thought as he looked where the intruder used to be. Did she just disappear, he was snapped out of his thought by the feeling of a blade on his neck and his arm being pulled out to the side by someone behind him, another blade resting on his wrist.

“Lay another finger on me, you could lose a hand” her voice aggressive and right against his ear. Tomura shuddered and he wasn’t sure if it was because he believed her or because her breath was ghosting around his neck. Toga and Twice, clearly stunned and unsure of what to do, looked towards Kurogiri who was already looking at Dabi. Kurogiri was smart enough to figure out that the two knew each other and maybe Dabi knew more about what to do in this situation. Dabi just waved his hand at the warp villain as if saying “don’t worry, no big deal”.

“y/n why are you always so god damn dramatic” Dabi said to the girl while pulling a cigarette from the frozen Twice’s two fingers that he had clearly forgotten about. Y/n sucked in a breath clearly affected by the words and tightened the knives' contact points on the group’s leader. Shigaraki was gonna kill Dabi when this was over.

“Bitch are you trying to make me cry,” her eyes widened looking at Dabi and her voice quivered slightly until she let out a small giggle. She released Tomura’s arm which fell down to his side. She twirled the knife in her hand before pointing it at Dabi.

“Or are you trying to make me lose it?” The words came out of her mouth surrounded by little laughs as if someone had just told a joke. Her tone was teasing and happy. She lowered the knife before gently running it up Tomura’s arm, she blew into his ear and nibbled on his earlobe before disappearing and reappearing in front of Shigaraki like she was before. The entire ordeal only lasted about a minute.

“Whoops haha sorry about that” y/n waved her hand in a “my bad” motion. 

“So can I join your club?” she was right back to her casual demeanor once again.

Tomura was livid and his body language showed it, slightly hunched, scratching at his neck and puffing out breaths but before he could respond in any way, a noise went off. Her phone.

“Oops its time for my nail appointment” She was already turning on her heels to leave, hand stretched out to look at her nails. Y/n turned her head to look back at the group.

“I’ll come back tomorrow for your answer. How about the same time as today? Ooooh I hope you say yes” Her voice sounded so innocent and sincere. But Tomura wasn’t going to let her just walk away after what she did.

“Kurogiri” Shigaraki yelled and one of his warps opened where she was walking.

“Oh no thank you that looks scary” and with that she disappeared. The second she left Twice was jumping up and down. 

“ I like her!! Did she bite your ear? That's weird. No that's hot.” the words spilled out of his mouth while he wiggled around a little bit. No one listened though all eyes were on Dabi who had taken a seat at the table.

“Are you going to give us an explanation? Shigaraki huffed out at Dabi.

“That's Y/n. Her quirk is teleportation, skills are a mix between Toga and Kurogiri but her personality is a little more like Twice” 

“Oh I knew I was in love” Twice interrupted, his hands clasped together by his face.

“Anyway” Dabi continued, “Honestly she’d be a really good addition. She’s pretty loyal and none of the Heroes knows she exists” 

“Have you worked with her?” Toga asked.

“Nope.” Dabi’s answer confused the group until Twice started laughing and then crying and then laughing again.

“Come on man how long have you been sleeping with her? Does that mean she's off the market? Oh no you said loyal. Does that mean loyal to you?” his crying continued.

“Enough! I am not letting one of your nobody girlfriends join the League of Villains” Shigaraki was annoyed Dabi was on her side in this.

“Tomura her skills do seem like they could be useful, you should think more about it” Kurogiri added, always needing to be the voice of reason. 

“When she comes back tomorrow give her a task to do and let her prove herself” Dabi offered.

“Fine” Shigaraki was tired of this.

*NEXT DAY*

“Hi there” once again her voice came out of nowhere, startling the group. Twice did not hesitate to get closer to her today.

“So can I join your cool club?” the question came out so fast and eager while she played with her fingers, she was clearly a little nervous that they might say no. 

Dabi couldn’t lie, he liked seeing her here, seeing her fun little outfit again. Yes they sleep together but it's on her schedule, not his so it wasn’t ever as often as he would have liked. Dabi liked seeing her but definitely didn’t like Twice trying to worm his way next to her. Dabi strutted up to his fuck buddy who reached out her newly manicured hand out to grab the collar of his shirt once he was close enough and pulled his face close to hers. Not expecting the sudden motion, Dabi stumbled a little bit. She put her lips next to his ear.

“I swear to god if you said anything bad about me or claimed me in any sort of way, I will nail you to the wall. Shigaraki is hot and I will not have you messing up my chance with him or Mr. Bodysuit” she said referring to Twice and surprising Dabi with the confession. “Now if I don’t get let in and it’s your fault, you will never see me again.” her voice was harsh in his ear (he kind of liked it). “You got that baby boy?” the last words of her warning came out breathy, almost a slight moan in one of her quick mood shifts before she lightly bit his neck and pushed him away. The wide eyed patchwork man backed up as she stepped close enough to Twice that their shoulders were touching. Twice thought he was going to faint.

“Are you done?” Tomura asked, referring to her encounter with Dabi. She nodded.

“Good. Before you are considered I need to see what you can do” Shigaraki began explaining that recently a small gang has been bothering some of their transports and that he wanted her to take their boss out of commission, any way she wanted. 

“Oh is that all?” y/n asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh you’re probably going to set a timer or something like that.” She was trying to reason why his task for her was so easy and Shigaraki was trying to figure out what she meant by a timer. 

‘Ready Set GO” Twice yelled, he liked the excitement. As soon as the words left his mouth she was gone. 

Shigaraki and Dabi had been playing cards before she arrived and neither of them had the chance to sit back down before they heard someone scream. Wait not just one scream? Two? The two men turned to see two of the gang members tied up, sitting against the wall, each with a knife still sticking out of their thigh. Before they could think Y/n showed up with a third man, disappeared and then showed up with a fourth before disappearing once again. She was gone for longer this time. Everyone was staring at the four men who looked absolutely terrified. Dabi began to laugh a little. He knew she was good but this was wild. A loud thump from behind them got their attention. The group turned to see the severed head of the gang’s boss sitting on their table.

“Time!” Y/n yelled “how long was that” she asked slightly out of breath, wiping the blood of her knife onto her skirt. She then lifted her skirt slightly to put the knife back into her thigh harness, very clearly unaffected by the murder and decapitation she just took part in.

“6 minutes and 32 seconds” Kurogiri said from behind them, genuinely shocked. Y/n ran over to Twice and high fived him.

“Am I in? Was that good? I can do better if not.” All of her words tumbled out like a child who just asked their mother to time how fast they can run.

“Um, ya you’re in” Shigaraki said scratching the back of his head in almost a daze at what just happened. 

“Sweet! See ya tomorrow!” y/n yelled before disappearing again but she didn’t come back this time. The group stared at each other in disbelief, completely ignoring the four men tied up next to them.

“Ya she’s a little..” Dabi started only to be interrupted by Toga.

“Homicidal!” The young girl yelled excitedly

“I mean I was gonna say Volatile but that works too” 

[holylulusworld]

Alpha mine

Summary: A bad blind date, you not being a prostitute and hurt balls. What can go possibly wrong?

Request: Can I have Alpha Dean? I don’t have a specific idea. I just want Alpha Dean and some angst. Maybe smut too. Happy ending please.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

A/N: This is an AU setting.

Warnings: language, arguments, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, true mates, blood, use of handcuffs, hurt testicles (it’s painful, poor Dean), awful names for balls/a dick, fun, crack!fickish, mentions of medical eximinations, A/B/O

Sequel to: Omega for rent

“I am going to knot you good…god…” Dean needs to stop walking as the pain in his groin becomes unbearable. “I think you made sure I’ll be…” Choking Dean has the feeling his stomach fights the breakfast.

“What’s wrong?” Walking out of your bedroom you must watch Dean whine again. He keels over, curls up in a fetal position as you kneel next to him. “Dean?”

“My balls feel like the little pup-producers are bruised.” You want to hold back a chuckle but seeing the tall alpha whimper and curse at the same time let little snorts escape your lips.

“Sorry. I’ll help you, Dean.”

Carefully helping Dean to get up you take small steps to help him sit on your bed. He hisses in pain, whining again as you help him lie onto your pillow.

“Okay. I’ll help you out of these tight slacks. I think your balls need more space. Hang free and all…” Giggling at your words you hold back the snorts.

“That’s not funny.” Dean grunts. “I wanted to knot you…”

Ignoring Dean’s words, you remove his shoes. “Breathe slow and even. I will open your pants now and try to be as careful as possible. Just relax.” A smirk on your lips you unbuckle his belt.

“I won’t kick you again, alpha.”

“You ruined my dick…” Watching you drag his pants and boxers down Dean gasps as he sees a tiny bruise at his left testicle.

“Oh—crap! You ruined leftie!” Now you cannot hold back the snort as you have a close look at his balls.

“Dean, that’s a fuzz.” With skilled fingers, you removed the fuzz and the tall alpha sighs. “Looks good to me. I suggest you lie flat on your back, cover your body with the blanket and I’ll bring you water. We need to replenish your fluids.”

Dean eyes you warily, not trusting you at all. “You want to make little Dean fall off. I know it.” Eyes narrowed Dean looks around your room. “I’ll sue you if I lose my dick!”

Giggling you sit next to Dean to pat his chest. “I know what I am talking about, okay. “

“Why? Do you kick a man in the groin every day? How many balls did you damage so far? You hurt leftie. I am not sure rightie will forgive you.” Lips pressed into a hint line you try to suppress the giggle bubbling up, but you can stop it.

Pressing your face into Dean’s neck you peck his mating gland before you burst into laughter.

“Honestly, you are the second guy - no wait the third. The first was a boy in high school. He tried to grab my tit and I kicked him.”

“That’s justified…” Humming you check on his balls. “What are you doing? Do you want to ruin me some more?”

“I am checking on your balls, now be silent. I said that I know what I am doing. That’s my job after all.” Dean’s eyes narrow again as you look at his crotch.

“You have a thing for my balls…” While you try to cover Dean with a blanket, he’s busy giving you one of his cocky smirks.

“I am a proctologist, Dean. Now let me…” Dean shoves your hands away, shaking his head furiously as you try to help him.

“You are one of the guys shoving a finger into a guy’s ass?” Face pale Dean clutches, the blanket to his chest to protect his anus for dear life.

“We are not doing this all day, Winchester. Now let me get you something to drink and some painkillers. Relax. I won’t kill you, idiot.”

“How can you do a job like that? I mean…” Choking on his words Dean scratches his head. “…Why did you choose a job which includes poking a guy’s ass!”

“Dean, we do not slide a finger into your ass to have fun. It’s a needed examination to check on your well…anus…” Not convinced Dean scrunches up his nose. “I know men do not like it, but we save lives.”

“By fingering my ass?” Throwing your hands up in surrender you take a deep breath. “Cancer, Dean. We do this to help people. Do you believe I like poking my finger into random guys assholes?”

“I do not know you long enough to answer your question.” This time Dean needs to hold back a chuckle. “You look like a kinky chick.”

“Gosh, you are one of those idiots making fun of my job. I chose it as my dad died of cancer. If he would have gone to see a proctologist before the pain became unbearable he could be still alive. Now shut up and let me help you…”

Grumbling you storm into the bathroom to wash your hands and get painkillers for the annoying alpha on your bed.

“I…I am sorry, Sweetheart. Uh—it’s just.” Chortling Dean bites his finger. “Imagining you shove a finger into my ass…”

“Did you forget my name again?” Poking your head into the bedroom you give Dean a dirty look. “Winchester?”

“Y/N. Your name is Y/N and I’d like to knot you again, even though you hurt leftie…”

“You’re unbelievable, Dean. One minute you whine about your hurt balls and the next moment you want to knot me. Hell, you are a rollercoaster of nonsense…”

“You forgot charming! I am adorable and charming!” Dean insists as you place the painkillers onto the nightstand.

“I will not encourage you, Winchester. Now stop wiggling your naked ass on my silky sheets.” Leaving your bedroom, you hear Dean purr into your direction. “Won’t get you any…”

“You will fall for me sooner or later.” Laughing you shake your head as you walk back toward the bedroom. Food, water, and a sports drink in your hands you watch him rummage in your drawer.

“Uh-huh! Dirty girl, kinky too.” Holding handcuffs, a vibrator and lube in his hands Dean looks like the cat that got the cream. “You will not need that tiny thing any longer, but we can keep the handcuffs and lube.”

“Can you not make fun for a few minutes? You need to drink a lot, take some painkillers and then we will have lunch.” Lower lip trapped between his teeth Dean looks at the food on the tray.

You warmed up some Chinese leftovers and he can barely hide the rumble of his empty stomach.

“You know how to get the guy. Naughty sex, perfect scent, and food. You want to bribe me…” You would roll your eyes, but Dean looks up at you, a soft smile on his lips and you remain silent.

“Drink, Dean and then give me a break.” Humming Dean gulps down the sports drink, not taking his eyes off you as he follows your advice. “I hope your balls feel better soon…”

It’s a restless evening as Dean didn’t stop to hit on you. Followed by a restless night as he tries to rut his aching crotch against your ass, whining as it still hurts.

“Dean, give up. I am tired and tomorrow is Sunday. I want to sleep without an  alpha keeping me awake.” Not giving up Dean ruts closer to you, rubbing his cock against your ass, ignoring the pain.

“Want you…”

“You’re a needy bastard, Winchester. If you stop keeping me awake, I let you knot me when you are better. Now let me sleep.”

Dean’s arms wrap around you as he is nuzzling his nose into your neck, but he stops to rut his cock against your ass.

“What’s that green rubbish?” Shoving the broccoli off his plate Dean retches as he spits parts of the healthy vegetable into his napkin.

He is residing on your couch, two pillows stuffed behind his back, feet propped onto your couch he watches you narrow your eyes.

“Winchester! I do not believe you one bit that your balls are still hurting! I know you are lying to get my attention. Needy bastard.” Humming to himself Dean looks at the food you cooked for him.

“You are taking good care of me.” Dean’s voice is barely above a whisper when he looks at you. “I’ve missed someone taking care of me.”

“Dean, we barely know each other. All we know are certain body parts. You can’t occupy my apartment for longer than needed.” Your fingers slide through his hair and you need to hold back a purr as he sighs every time you touch him.

“I…I don’t want to leave you…”

“How about a deal, Dean. Playing with his short locks you press a soft kiss to his ear shell.

“If you can walk, you can knot me, Winchester. You can stay till tomorrow morning and then we will see where this will lead us to…” Dean’s eyes darken, and you feel his hand cup your tit as he smirks up at you.

He’s wild, loud and full Alpha again.

Your face pressed into the cushions; hands restraint behind your back with your handcuffs you can only take what the man you barely know offers.

“Such a good girl now…” Purring the words Dean smirks as he can feel your slick cover his dick with every thrust. “I could fuck you for days.”

“How’s leftie?” Giggles leave your lips, but Dean does not seem to care. While you try to push back onto him, he grips your cuffed wrists.

His brows are knit together as he watches his cock disappear inside of your slit. He can read your body; can sense you are close to your high.

“You feel perfect around me, Sweetheart. I think…” Pushing against your shoulders Dean causes your body to fall flat onto your mattress.

Helpless you wiggle against him as he holds you down with his weight.

“Dean…I want to cum.” You would scratch or bite him, even kick the cocky alpha again but the handcuffs around your wrists and his hands holding you down, bending you to his will, make you immobile.

“Sweet, so sweet for me…” His tongue slides over your mating gland and you shiver, knowing what Dean is up to. “Going to make you mine.”

Before you can give him a snarky comment his hips start moving again and your body gives in. Walls clenching tightly around him, sucking greedily at his thick length you can feel his teeth sink into your neck.

“Fucking asshole…” Dean does not care about your insults or that his orgasm hits him hard.

He will not let go of your neck, even holds you down to mark you as his omega.

“At least you can fuck like a stallion…”

“Love the way you say, ‘I love you’.” Dean grins before his tongue soothes the light sting. “The wound is already closing, Omega. Looks good on you. Perfect bite mark.”

“I guess this means your cute alpha ass is all mine now, including leftie and rightie. Now release my wrists and let me have a look at the mark. I dare you if you ruined my look.”

“It will heal completely and looks good at your neck.” Dean cannot take his eyes off the mark, wants you to not put a band-aid on it but you slap his hands away.

“Let me put a sterile band-aid on it before I kick your balls.” He is looking at his mark one last time. “Barely any blood. Did you do this more than once?”

“No…I swear, Y/N. You’re my first…” Your hand slides over his naked chest and you look up at Dean, a dirty grin on your lips. “I was your first, lover boy?”

“That is not what I meant, Omega. Now be good and behave.” Face straight, eyes focused on the mark at your neck Dean tries to play the dominant alpha, but you simply pat his cheek.

“Oh, sweet alpha. I think there was a failure in our communications from the beginning. It’s more that you alpha are mine now…” Amused Dean drops the towel around his waist, gives you a dirty grin before he steps closer.

“All yours, Y/N. Now - where do you want me?”

Tags in reblogs.

[talkingbl]

The Good and Bad of Tonhon Chonlatee

SPOILER WARNING. TW: rape, sexual assault, sexual harassment

The Good:

Characterization of supporting characters (especially Na and Aunt Nam)

Chon's general characterization as a self-identified gay man who is not toxically masculine or misogynistic and generally not judgmental. His brief arc with the unnamed nail technician and former sex worker is incredibly well-done for a Thai BL

Following the previous point, the nail technician character was treated decently well in this story. The fact that she was a bigger lady was never a point of repulsion for Chon (instead, he was more concerned that she was a woman and he's a gay virgin)

Characters who openly identify as non-straight and not just male characters who say "he's the only guy I'll ever like" (Na)

Parent-child conflict that isn't inherently about child's sexuality (Ton and his dad--technically it's about having a grandchild)

No real filler episodes, everything generally served the plot and there weren't any one-off 'let's go to the beach/camping' episodes

Male lead (Chon) shows physical attraction toward love interest (Ton) on multiple occasions

Ton and Chon's actors (Podd and Khaotung) have a somewhat understated but definitely present and persistent chemistry. Podd has the same look that Bright Vachirawit and Pond Naravit have opposite their co-leads Win Metawin and Phuwin Tangsakyuen. He just looks at Khaotung like he's the most interesting person in the room

For a man who just came to terms with being in love with another man, Ton is surprisingly open about his relationship with Chon and, once he confesses, not once does he second-guess his feelings for Chon

Charming story with an extremely charismatic cast of actors outside of a few

Mike Chinarrat. He's just so good at the comedic yet serious when he needs to be style of acting. It brought a lot to the show in terms of good acting

The Bad

Multiple characters are either raped, implied to have been raped, sexually assaulted, and/or sexually harassed with no actual repercussions for the attackers and/or exploration of the emotional trauma victims experience as a result. Under this one, Ai and Ni sexually assault Chon (played for laughs), Neung is implied to have been raped (NEVER addressed), and Chon kisses Ton without his consent (glossed over). I'm sure there's more instances too but yeah...

Ton is just....what the fuck is his character? One second he's bashing gay people and FORCING his male "childhood love" to lose his virginity (to a woman at that), the next he's confessing how he's known all along that his childhood love is, indeed, in love with him and that he feels the same way. They use the excuse of him having to live up to his parent's expectations despite the fact that it makes 0 sense if you think about it longer than a second

Casual colorism in the casting ONCE AGAIN. Nearly everyone who is portrayed as a bad/unsavory character is visibly darker than our "heros"

Same tired ex-girlfriend is an evil mastermind trying to break up our boys for no good reason trope

Ton's dad's character was not well flushed out. We think he's homophobic but actually he's anti-anything not straight and cis but then, no, actually he just wants his son to give him an heir but then all the characters claim that he hates gay people again and it's just like wtf? Is he homophobic, transphobic, tolerant unless it doesn't serve his goal of having grandchildren, all of the above, none of the above, just what? They go back on his characterization so much that I don't actually know what his biases are and which groups he's against/not against

Ton is dense as fuck to the point where it's a bit unrealistic..

The casual outing and forced outing of multiple gay characters by Baipai, Ai and Ni. Baipai outs Ai and Ni at the end, which leads to a Ai and Ni nearly being evicted from their home. And, again, Ai and Ni out Chon through SEXUAL ASSAULT.

Characters being made to apologize for their sexualities and occupations on multiple occasions. Off the top of my head I can think of: Ai, Ni, and Miriam apologizing to Ton's dad at the end for "negatively influencing" Ton to be interested in men

On that note, Ton not speaking up in that moment and telling his father that he's allegedly loved Chon since he was a child and that Ai, Ni, and Miriam didn't "change" him kind of annoyed me. That would've shut Ton's dad up quickly but he NEVER said anything about it

The or unexplained plot devices that need explanation. For example, how the hell did those bed pictures get leaked? How did Amp get the pictures she sent to Ton's dad? These questions need answers lol

Miriam's absolutely horribly unbelievable "pregnancy belly" that was just a sack of laundry stuffed into a dress

Most of the acting was just okay..supporting characters generally had better acting than our leads

Baipai's character. I just could not stand her. I even preferred Amp over her because at least Amp contributed to the plot

Speaking of the plot, the dumbass jealously plots have got to stop. They are so boring and repetitive. I'll admit that Tonhon Chonlatee pulled it off better than other series, but there was still so much they could have explored with the two compelling leads other than "let's make Ton jealous for 2 episodes"

The (lack of) kisses. The physical intimacy in this show was so stale it might as well have been a Chinese bromance censored by the CCP. Every kiss they either diverted the camera or had the actors do that weird tightly pursed lip smashing thing where neither person actually even opens their mouth for the kiss. Yet at the same time they showed a straight kiss 100%. I wouldn't have as much of a problem with this if it was rated G or something or even if the actors just weren't comfortable yet, but Podd has had better makeout scenes in other shows, and in 2gether Mike and Toptap actually have on-screen kisses

Even though I credited Tonhon Chonlatee for having an openly pansexual character (Na), they still had one of our main characters (Ton) claim to "only like Chon and no other men." Apparently you can be straight and like a guy as long as he's the only guy you currently like I guess.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 04 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

Word count: 2.3K

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Nightmares

You're looking at the garden, admiring the little white flowers that only blossom at night. You're tired, eyes heavy, but you can't sleep. Some bats are flying down there, and you wonder if they live nearby. A much larger figure passes by, in a blur. Suddenly, the lights go off. Opening the window, you bend over, holding on the bars, to try and see more. Then, you hear a click.

Your head turns at the door. Did it just unlock? Is the system electrical? Then why does Bruce always uses a key? Moving to the door, you slowly turn the handle and... Another click. It's open. Pulling it, you step forward. The silence makes you anxious, and so does the darkness. Looking at the sides, you start walking down the hall.

“Bruce?” You call out, and your voice echoes through the place. You get no response.

Your legs keep moving, taking you downstairs and to the door, which is wide open. Why is Bruce doing this? Is it a test? Or did something happened to him? You shouldn't go. You should–

You're moving, against your will. Why are you moving against your will? Wasn't that the plan? To wait for an opportunity and run away?

The gates are open too, and they're the only thing you can see in the darkness. The next thing you know is that you're on the streets. Empty streets, no lights on. You're taking the way to the abandoned mall you claimed, taking all the right entrances and the elevator that leads to the underground. Your old house.

You walk through the garage, among the many cars you own. Reaching your private headquarters, you see piles of money. The jewels too, more shiny than usual.

“Is anyone here?” The place doesn't seem abandoned. You know they're still working for you, even after all that time in prison. They wouldn't dare to abandon you.

“Look who's back.” Your sister comes out of nowhere, followed by her boyfriend, the Joker. “Where were you, little sis?”

“I got out.” You could tell them the truth, that Batman held you hostage. But you don't want them to retaliate. “What are you doing here? You're not supposed to come uninvited.”

There's something in the air, in the atmosphere. It's so cold and and dark, like you're drowning in it. A weird feeling builds up as if you need to go home. But this is home, the only home you ever had.

What are you doing here? You made a promise not to run away. Bruce told you he'd help, so why did he let you get out? Why did he let the doors open?

“We know everything, dear." Joker sing songs, pacing around you. “The Batsy broke you down... Or should I say, Bruce Wayne?”

“What?” How does he know that? “I was in prison. Belle Reve. I got out.” You repeat, turning on your heels to look Joker in the eye.

“And now you're back home,” Harley exclaims, hugging you. “Enjoy yourself, sis. This is who you are. Have fun, steal what you crave for, and then, one day, they will just get you again.”

“Thanks to you, I know who Batsy is.” Joke speaks again, getting your attention. “I can attack him in bright daylight. When he's vulnerable, away from his toys.”

“You know you'll go back there right? The paradise on Earth.” Harley starts again. “They always manage to find us. And once they do, the torture is tuned all the way up.”

“Shut up, Harley.” You burst out.

“I will make sure to tell Batman you helped me. I may even bring his head here so you can use it as a decoration.”

“Shut up!” You're covering your ears, trying to understand what happened. What you did. You didn't tell anyone about Bruce. You know you didn't. “Shut up!”

“You're going back to Belle Reve, sis. We always do. We'll die there.”

“Batman's blood is in your hands, Havoc. Upon his death, we will rule Gotham.”

“Shut up!”

You sit up abruptly, just as the door is being open. Breathing fast, you run to the bathroom before Alfred comes in. Closing the door behind your back, you slide to the floor, hands on your head. “It was just a dream. Just a dream.” You mumble to yourself. Why did it scare you so much? You shouldn't be sleeping. “I won't go back. It was just a dream. Just a dream...”

A knock on the door startles you. “(Y/N)?”

It isn't Alfred, it's Bruce. With your heart pounding against your chest, you stumble up, opening the door and almost collapsing against his chest when you step out. He looks down at you, worried.

“Hi,” you whisper, stepping back.

“You look terrified. What happened?” He touches your arm, guiding you to sit on the bed. Behind him, you see a cart with lunch.

“I fell asleep. I shouldn't, I... I had a nightmare. No big deal.” As you move closer to the headboard, you see a book on the nightstand. “What's that?” Taking it, you read the cover. Game Of Thrones.

“I decided to bring you that. So you'll have something to do.” Bruce sits on the bed, hesitantly. “It has some violence, but I think you can deal with that.”

“Isn't there a TV show about it?”

“I'll stream if for you once you finish the book.”

“Ok.” It's good to finally have something to do. Opening the book, you look through the first pages.

“Why did you say you shouldn't sleep?” He inquires. Shaking your head slightly, you don't answer. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” Looking up from the book, you meet his eyes. Why is he so worried?

“Won't you answer me?”

“I don't like sleeping.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sustain his stare. Bruce has nice eyes, and they're kind. You can't remember the last time someone looked at you like this. “The nightmares are constant so... I take naps. Whenever I feel like I'm falling asleep I get up. I don't sleep for more than three hours every night.”

“And what do you do up all night?”

“Nothing. I stare at the ceiling. The garden... Did you know that the little white flowers only blossom at night?” Smiling, you put the book down and move to the window. The garden is beautiful. You grow mesmerized by it every day. The flowers and threes are amazing.

“(Y/N), you need to sleep. To rest.” Bruce walks over you, touching your arm to get your attention. “Do you want something to help?”

“I'm used to my sleep schedule, don't worry.” You meet his eyes for a few seconds before looking through the window again. “I saw some people there a few days ago.”

“An interview. Now go eat.” Bruce brings the cart as you sit in the armchair. Sweet potato soup, your favorite.

He shouldn't be here for lunch, though. “Shouldn't you be at work?”

His expression changes, and he looks sad. “It's Saturday.”

“Oh... And don't you have a girlfriend or something?” The question comes out suddenly, before you even notice what you said. That's the bad part of being honest all the time, you lost the ability to control your thoughts.

“No, I don't have anyone at the moment. Why?”

“Because it's Saturday. You should be with her.” In the back of your mind, the figure of Bruce with a woman in his arm, going to dinners, smiling and chatting, bothers you. You don't understand why. It's only natural. A handsome man like Bruce probably has a lot of women chasing him. Being rich only makes it worse.

“Don't worry. I'm all yours today.”

That makes you giggle, looking down at the soup. “The therapy session will be long then.”

As usual, Bruce waits until you're done eating. You're growing used to his presence, and sometimes you think you're even a little excited to see him. It's unbelievable how gentle he is. Nobody was ever gentle to you. It's weird how you're failing to look for an opportunity to run away. You're just not thinking about this anymore.

When you're done, you push the cart away, holding your glass of soda. “So... What are we talking about today?”

“I have news. And I need you to tell me how you feel about them.” Bruce is serious now, all professional. Did you do something? Why does he seem so distant?

“Alright.”

“Yesterday night I found the Joker.” He begins, eyes focused on you, reading your face. “He almost managed to run away, but one of his bombs went off before the time, while he was close. He blew up, thrown into the air, and when he fell, he broke his spine. There's a chance Joker won't ever walk again.”

You don't know what he wants you to say. People tend to connect you to the Joker, even though you haven't worked with him in years. You're more like enemies now. “Well, that's too bad for him. And for Harley. She'll be heartbroken.”

“What about you?”

“I won't say I'm happy about it, I'm just... I don't feel anything.”

“Have you and the Joker ever been in any kind of... Relationship?”

That's new. “No. He kissed me once, to make Harley jealous, but I kicked him in the balls for it.” The memory makes you smile. His face was priceless. “He did make some... propositions, but I never accepted.”

“Why?” Bruce seems very interested in this. What are you thinking? He's just trying to understand and help you. Nothing more.

“Because he wasn't my type,” you say with a smirk.

“Does that mean other men made the same kind of propositions and you accepted?”

“What? No!” You exclaim, putting the empty glass on the cart. “I... I'm not...”

“See? When you don't say the truth, I can make any assumptions.” He leans forward, as he usually does. You're not sure why, but you mirror his position, looking into his eyes. “The truth, please.”

“Well, it's true that he's not my type, but... In my world, love is dangerous. You have lots of enemies and having someone you care about gives them a weak spot. So I never really gave me or... Love... A chance.” It's funny how easy it feels to open up to Bruce now. It doesn't mean you enjoy saying these things, they're supposed to be a secret, but with time, you're getting used to it. He has an effect on you, this man.

“For some people, there's no need for love in some... Situations.”

“For some people, yes. For me... It would never feel right.” You move back again, looking down at the sunlight coming through the window, on the floor between you and Bruce.

“(Y/N), I know the guards used to beat you. But did they ever... Assaulted you any other way?” The heaviness in his voice is tangible. Bruce is angry, worried.

“No. Never.” You're quick to answer, and he soon seems to relax. “Everything they feel for me is disgust, thank God. That... Never happened. They only touch me to beat me up.”

“I'm... Happy to know that. A pretty girl like you... I couldn't help but wonder if they ever tried something so filthy.”

“Woman.” You correct him as usual, the word pretty burning through your mind. Does he really think you're pretty?

“Woman. Forgive me.” A smile. A smile comes to his lips and you're mesmerized. He's so handsome, and now even more.

“I like your smile,” you tell him, biting back a smile yourself. “Didn't know Batman had this ability.”

“You're improving.”

“Am I?” It comes to your mind suddenly, that he brought you here to prove a point. “I'm happy your project is going well.” Running a hand through your hair, you get up, moving to the bed.

“I don't think of you as a project.”

“Really?” You don't believe him. “Sometimes I wonder what will be my fate after this. You say you can put me back into the normal world, but I'm not sure I believe it... I think that I'll end up in Belle Reve. And it'll be even worse because now I'm used to all this.” Gesturing at the room in general, you look at him. “Comfortable bed, nice showers, beauty products... Not being hurt every single day.”

Going back to Belle Reve would break you down, you think. The villain in you says that you can take it, all over again if needed, but the other part... Tells you otherwise. The very thought of your old cell is enough to make you shake like a leaf.

“I will never let you go back there,” Bruce speaks up, intense eyes on you, burning. “Never.”

“Keep me here then... If that's what it takes. I don't mind.” You can barely hear your own voice. You can't believe you just said that, that you would be ok being here for the rest of your life. But if your options are this room or cell 304B, you'd pick this room.

“Let's see how things go. There's no need to rush.”

Nodding, you continue telling him about your connections with the Joker, and about the many times you were at war against each other. After dinner, you ask for a pencil or pen, so you can underline the parts you like in the book. Bruce brings you a blue pen before wishing goodnight and telling you to try and sleep well.

But you can't. It's 2 a.m. and you're reading. You find a blank page in the book, so you rip it off and decide to draw. It's been years since you've drawn, and you're not really sure what you're doing. A few hours go by until you're finished with it. Bruce. You just drew Bruce Wayne. You stare at his features. His eyes, nose, jaw... Lips. Folding the paper, you decide to use it as a bookmark. He won't find out if you keep it inside the book.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2

[putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty]

The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 2

GENERAL A/N: Hi there!

This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate. 

A/N: Hi sweeties! I have received so much love already, this is really the best fandom ever! I hope you enjoy this character, you’ll be familiar with many parts and hopefully amused by Aoife’s twist on them, I do love her dearly. Also, I have decided to shorten the chapters cause they where way to long! Bacetti, Cate!

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb.  Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

Chapter’s warning: Not really, blood maybe?

Words: 2213

Chapter One.

Chapter Two: Ale and Princes

There was no sign of nuns through the corridors while she run down the stairs, weapons tinkling under the new dress and cloak Aethelflaed had gifted her.She had washed herself from the dirt and the blood of the battle and was now looking like a lady. A tired, sad lady. Aethelflaed was waiting outside with the warriors, all of them already on the back of their mounts; in her left hand, the Lady was holding the bridles of Aoife’s horse. “You are a strange nun” Uthred stated “why do you have weapons and a horse?” “They were gifted to me years ago.” Aoife simply answered, jumping easily on her mount and patting her on the neck. “They are expensive gift.” the other Dane noticed, and she turned to shoot him a weak smile. “Someone really cared for me.”

Aylesbury, Mercia

They arrived at Aylesbury when the sun was setting, and Aoife thanked God when the route opened in front of them and, among the white of the snow, appeared the stone walls of Aylesbury. They rode among the tents of the soldiers and, at the doors, they were welcomed by a line of guards, shields and spears pointed in their direction. Behind them stood the tallest and scariest man Aoife had ever seen, who pulled out his sword when they came closer. Next to him, Aoife saw a somehow attractive man, with dirty blonde hair and an unripe face; she guided her horse closer to Finan’s, feeling unsafe under his gaze. “That’s Aethelred. Lady Aethelflaed’s husband” Finan told her, noticing who her eyes were following. It was all clear now, Aethelflaed have told her stories about the weasel that her husband was. He was the one threatening her friend and Lady’s life. Once again Finan had to stop her from throwing her dagger at someone. “You need to stop being so impetuous.” He snorted with a half-smile “You will put us all in great danger sooner than later.” She grinned “He would not be missed.” “He is a Lord.” Finan insisted “Stay nice and quiet, would you?” They watched in silence Uthred and Aethelflaed discussing with that mountain of a man and Aethelred, probably explaining the situation. Aoife couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but she didn’t care. She had never seen the snow outside of the property of the Abbey and it was nice how soft it looked over the walls of the fortress. She didn’t notice Finan watching her, smiling at her amazement; and he didn’t notice Sithric and Osferth staring at him, amused. Finan was known and, made fun of, for quickly fall in love with women and that pretty warrior nun was no exception, but Osferth was worried for the young lady’s feelings; Finan was also one to love you during the course of one night and forget about you the morning after. However, Aoife was innocent but no fool, and the monk was sure enough that she would reject his attempts. Or at least he hoped so.

It was decided that the outlaw Uthred and his companions could pass, but they had to leave their weapons outside. Finan tried to protest, but his words were ignored by the Lord, while his guard repeated the order slower, as to mock Finan’s intelligence. Guards were sent to collect their weapons and Aoife didn’t like the way her guard was watching her as a prey. “You done?” she asked harshly when his eyes fell on the modest neckline of her dress. He quickly left her side with a small bow and behind her back she heard the Dane, whose name was Sithric she had discovered, laughing. “You have a temper, nun” and he walked with her through the gates.

They were left as enemies outside the hall, Aethelflaed nice enough to choose to stay with them and not to feast with her family. Aoife, at her side, soon found out that she wasn’t the only one with a temper problem; Finan, who she was sure had a desire to die, not only stood his ground to the huge warrior, but also made fun of his orders. The men did not seem intimidated, though; he smiled menacingly to the Irishman and patted him on the chest. “Steapa!” Uthred intervened “Food and ale would be appreciated.” The warrior agreed and turned to enter the hall. “And Steapa! Good food!” Finan added, under the amused looks of his companions “Meat! And lots of ale.” Uthred pushed him playfully “He will have your head one day.” “He just has to try.”

Under the supervision of Steapa himself, the diverse group of outlaws and ladies were drinking and eating at the alehouse. Aoife had never drunk ale before and she was quite enjoying the sweet and earthy taste of the beverage that she was gulping down. “You should slow down.” Osferth suggested, over the chatter of the others “It is not the strongest, but it will confuse your thoughts.” She smiled sweetly “Thank you, Brother.” She had just discovered that Osferth was a bastard child of Alfred and she did know how it felt like to be an unwanted consequence of illicit love. She decided that he deserved to know that he was not alone and that there was nothing to be ashamed of. “Osferth” she called softly, and the monk turned to her with a smile “I just wanted you to know that I too am the bastard of a Lord and a maid. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have claimed a family of your own. A family of bad smelling, brutish men, sure, but still a family.” The monk smiled widely and squeezed lightly her hand “I sure do. Thank you.” “That was very sweet.” a voice whispered in her hear. She turned around and almost brushed the tip of her nose on Finan’s. The man was sitting very close to her; she could smell the ale in his breath, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He was much taller than her, and he had dropped his head on his close fist to look at her. His eyes were not hungry, but curious and perhaps even sweet. He was so unbelievably handsome that she found herself at loss of words. She didn’t have to worry however, because who she assumed was a young Lord approached Steapa telling that an approximation to a Witan had been gathered and they were required. None of them knew what an approximation to a Witan was but they all emptied their cups and quickly followed Steapa inside the hall. It was a large room, warmed by a fire that burnt right in the centre. The floor was made of wood, the wall of stones. Aethelred was sprawled on his throne, at his left stood a young man and, against the walls the men of the Witan, priests and lords in their heavy cloaks, watching them enter the room with stern faces. Not a warm welcome. She didn’t need Aethelred’s comment to notice the absence of King Alfred; she had never met him, but she had heard great stories about him, and closing her eyes she could create an image of what it should look like. She was disappointed by his absence. “I am here in place of the King. I’m here to speak for the King.” the young boy stated, and Aoife could easily assume that he was Aethelflaed’s younger brother, Edward, the atheling of Wessex. Weirdly, all Aoife could think of was that he looked something like Osferth. Aethelflaed was invited by her husband to say what she had come to say. The men of the Witan received with suspicious her accusations of Haesten, who was a declared ally of Wessex. When the Lady explained how Haesten had threatened her life and Uthred had saved her, the one questioning her was her own husband. “I am at a loss, how is it that Uthred knew of this danger? How is it that he knew exactly where to find you?” “An irrelevant question.” Aethelflaed commented coldly; Finan and Aoife made eye contact and they had to look away to not burst laughing. A man of the Witan, old and unpleasant to the eye and the ear, supported Aethelred’s suspects with impossible stories of Uthred’s betrayal, about him planning Aethelflaed’s killing with Haesten, all to earn her trust and get once again close to King Alfred. It was such a fool story that Aoife couldn’t imagine anyone believing it. She couldn’t be more wrong. “A spy?” Aethelred insisted. “An assassin, even.” the man replied. Neither her nor Finan were smiling anymore, it wasn’t going as expected and Uthred’s patience was visibly running thin. “Should have expected nothing different.” he said, his eyes rolling in exasperation. Surprisingly, in the defence of the outlaw, Aethelflaed was joined by her brother. “Seems rather grand strategy, Lord Aethelred” he stated, turning to the Lord, “and for what?” “It’s here, among us.” the young lord, the one that had guided them to the hall, answered. “And under guard.” the atheling replied bluntly, “Then let us get to the truth of the matter.” an imperious voice resounded throughout the room. King Alfred had entered the room, and, despite his sickly appearance, Aoife could feel the power he exuded. He was surely a man of strong, uncompromising mind and where he lacked with physical strength, he more than compensated with great presence and spirit.

Uthred had then explained his intention to the King; in exchange of him saving Aethelflaed, he asked for one thousand men to attack Beamfleot and defeat Haesten. He was clever enough to point out that the fall of Beamfleot and Haesten would mean a great loss for the Dane army and consequently ensure peace in Mercia and Wessex, for a while at least. Prince Edward spoke in favour of the agreement, but Alfred, supported by the men of the Witan, decided not to trust the outlaw and declined his request. He then invited the Dane to leave as the free man he was in Mercia, but he would remain an outlaw of Wessex.

***

The group found itself once again sat around a table outside the alehouse. They weren’t pleased by the outcome of the Witan. For what Aoife could understand, it was crucial to reclaim the Dane seer, Skade. It had something to do with a curse she had casted on Uthred and that was apparently putting them all in great danger. Aoife was no one to discharge others’ beliefs; on the contrary it made her appreciate Uthred more. He had saved Aethelflaed despite the danger that his choice entailed. She was quite surprised by how much she was enjoying the warriors’ company; they were kinder that she expected and, usually, it was a pleasure to spend time with them. That moment was the exception, but she could not blame them for being quiet and angry. They had been left without hope nor plans; and even if she was confident that they would soon find a way to reclaim the witch, she understood their fears. She was the first to notice the priests approaching, behind them came Prince Edward. He sat down next to his sister, Aoife on his other side. He shot her a questioning look and she gracefully bowed her head; but it was clear that he had more urgent issues to address. Osferth, at Aoife’s other side, excused himself and left before she could even turn around; it was clear the situation was paining him greatly. Words of curtesy were exchange between the people; Aoife, who didn’t know neither the priests nor the prince, sat in silence. She could not help but laugh, however, when the priest, who had taken Osferth place next to her, kindly stated that he couldn’t waste his prayers for Finan, being that he already belonged to the devil. The Irishman’s eyes moved from the priest to Aoife, and a corner of his mouth curved upwards in a smile, hidden by his bushy beard. “Could well be right.” he admitted. The other priest urged to get to the point, considering the dangerous position the prince had put himself in; the statement caught the attention of the entire table. The first priest asked them all to appear uninterested, for the safety of the presents, and, as strange as it sounded, a heavy silence fell on the group. “How… how many men does Haesten have?” Edward finally asked. Aoife watched hope return on Uthred and Aethelflaed’s faces. “Maybe as many as one thousand.” Uthred answered. “And a fortress.” the prince recollected. “Beamfleot.” Edward asked how Uthred could be sure to defeat him when it seemed impossible to do. Uthred pondered his words, then answered calmly that a siege would require the sacrifice of three thousand souls; Haesten, however, wouldn’t resisted the opportunity to kill him and would follow him outside. Fighting on open ground would increase their chances of winning. Prince Edward took his time to think about it, listening patiently to the warriors’ advices. He then decided, with a proud smile on his young face, to grant Uthred five hundred men. He swore to be there, the day of the attack, hidden in the wood with his army of half a thousand men.

Aoife hand run on the blade of her sword.

Chapter Three.

[space-------kid]

Hello! Congrats on reaching 100+ followers—you definitely deserve it and more! If slots are still avail, can I request Genya x Reader where he actually lives and five years after Muzan’s defeat, Genya realizes that all of his friends are married (Kanao and Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Nezuko, Aoi and Inosuke) and he’s like “maybe I should propose...?) but he has no idea how so he asks for help from Ino, Tan and Zen, who offer to go look for rings with him while the girls hang out. Thank you so much!

Thank you so much, anon - you’re too kind and sweet! 😄💕💕💕

This request is so cute, please have all my uwu 💕💕💕 Also, I’m sorry for taking quite a while with this one (and to @beanrolls, too, who requested for Kimetsu Academy Genya [have all my uwu, too!]), there have been matters that needed my urgent attention that left me unable to write for days! 😭 But I’m back now, and sure that I’ll be able to post beanrolls’ request tomorrow😄

This one is set mostly in Genya’s point of view. [I’m listening to Train’s “Marry Me” right now... Now I’m wondering how modern AU Genya might propose to his s/o  😭💕💕💕)

*Hanami is “flower viewing”. The comparison between pearls and a woman’s tears of sadness is a thing where I’m from, and old people advise the younger ones not to wear any pearls during their wedding nor for men to give women engagement rings with pearls. They believe that the pearls would signify a married life full of sadness for the woman who’s about to be wed.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 (𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷𝔂) 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓏𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓌𝒶 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

              The world is now without evil demons.

               Exactly five years have now passed after Kibutsuji Muzan’s downfall. Five years of absolute peace, now being experienced by the children Ubiyashiki Kagaya has left behind, those who have been blessed by the gods to spend the rest of their lives earning the fruits of the sacrifice of the entirety of the Demon Slayer Corps.

               There are times that he still thinks that someone else deserves to be in his position. To be able to live, laugh, love, and be loved by the people he holds dear in his heart. But the thought now comes very few and far in between as the peaceful days roll by, the further encouragement of his older brother and friends giving Genya the strength to take another step into living the life they convince him he deserves.

               And maybe… maybe he does deserve to experience all the good things life hands to him now. Like the rest of his fellow Demon Slayers, he’s willingly sacrificed his own safety to ensure another’s, offering blood, sweat, and tears to rid the world as much demons as he can while striving hard to stand side by side with his once-unreachable brother. And while Sanemi has been blessed with the Mark of the Demon Slayers, the gods must have smiled at the Shinazugawa brothers for the curse of death does not claim the older between the two.

               Genya is sure that Tanjiro will be blessedly spared as well from the Mark’s curse, now living a happy life in Mount Kumotori – his home – with Kanao and their son.

               The Breath of the Sun user has been the first to marry in their group of friends two years ago. The proposal itself is simple yet sincere, so very Tanjiro that Kanao has been quick to blurt out a very happy “yes!” The wedding has been grand and lively, and Zenitsu – in all seriousness and golden eyes shining with worried tears – all but gets down on one knee during the celebration and proposes to a surprised and blushing Nezuko.

               Not one to be left behind by his friends, Inosuke has demanded for Aoi’s hand in marriage after witnessing Tanjiro’s joyful wedding and Zenitsu’s bold proposal.

               Now, his friends are all happily married with the love of their lives. And Genya would be a fool if he doesn’t admit that he’s a little – alright, maybe not so little – jealous that he’s the only one who hasn’t tied the knot yet.

               And so he sits in the middle of Sanemi’s training dojo, Himejima-san’s juzu beads clutched in one hand as he contemplates on the relationship he has with [Name]. He remembers, clear as day, how they met on one of his missions and how they saved each other’s lives back then. How she has befriended him despite his intimidating appearance, his inability to use Breaths, and how he achieves demonic transformation by eating demons. Not once has [Name] looked down on him, and Genya knows then and there – in their first meeting – that she is the one for him.

               Koi no yokan. The premonition of love; the feeling upon first meeting someone that you will inevitably fall in love with them.

               He remembers how [Name] admitted her growing feelings for him months after, when she came to visit him at the Butterfly Estate after facing off with Upper Moon Four in the Swordsmith’s Village. How she ran to him, crying, and embraced him as if it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. He remembers how happy and relieved she looked while cupping his cheeks in her small hands and – seemingly forgetting herself and the company they have – placed a tender kiss on his forehead before confessing her feelings for him. Genya is still sure that he has glimpsed Heaven that day, especially when [Name]’s face flushed red from embarrassment at her behaviour. And despite Tanjiro and the three girls of the Butterfly Estate’s presence in the infirmary, the demon-devouring Slayer is quick to tell her that he’s always loved, her, too.

               His worst nightmare came into focus during the final battle in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress. Upper Moon One was unbelievably strong, even using a Breath Style with more than fifteen forms during the fight. The Mist Pillar Tokito Muichiro fell during the fight, valiantly sacrificing himself to ensure their victory. And Genya was more than willing to go down fighting, too, if it meant taking down the second strongest demon in existence to his grave. Just as when Upper Moon One’s desperate, dying attack reaches Genya, he was knocked to the side while the splatter of crimson blood entered his field of vision.

               [Name] has told him firmly that she’s willing to sacrifice more than her left leg just so Genya can see the light of day again with his older brother.

               If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be basking freely under the sun with the people he loves.

               Uneven footsteps soon pull Genya out of his musings. The dojo’s double doors open to reveal [Name], clad in a purple kimono and leaning on her walking stick. Her [colour] eyes brighten upon seeing Genya, and he gets up to meet her halfway, wrapping her in a fierce, loving hug.

               “I love you, [Name],” he tells her softly, pressing his lips to her hair. Genya relishes the sound of her laughter and the way she looks up at him, the loving expression on her face mirroring his.

               “And I love you more than you can ever dream of, Genya,” [Name] replies sincerely, leaning on him as he leads her out of the dojo. “What’s gotten into you, though? I hope it’s nothing I should be worried about.”

              His heart leaps with joy for her concern, although there is nothing to actually worry about. They sit side by side on the engawa, overlooking the garden Sanemi has gifted Genya with. The younger Shinazugawa brother still cannot help his face from turning red when [Name] presses herself against him and weaves her fingers with his.

              “N-Nothing to worry about. I just want to tell you…”

              [Name] rewards him with a kiss on his fingers and a content sigh.

              “And now we have the rest of our lives to tell each other,” she chirps happily at him, a bright smile on her face. “Now, don’t get tired of hearing it from me every day, alright?”

              Maybe he should…?

              Genya returns her smile with a shy grin of his own, unashamed of how red his face must have been. The question dances on the tip of his tongue, the needful urge to ask for her hand in marriage growing stronger and fiercer with each passing day he spends with her.

              He’s the only one unmarried yet in his circle of friends. And Genya knows that he can change it by asking [Name] right now, but he refrains himself from doing so. He wants the proposal to be memorable, to be worthy of the woman who has countlessly and selflessly saved his life over and over. He doesn’t want to ruin her experience of being proposed to by just blurting the question out like a mindless, insensitive fool, without even a care for how much memorable it would be for her.

              Genya is not one for extravagance, but at least he wants [Name] to remember his wedding proposal for the rest of their lives, something she can tell their future kids with a lovesick blush on her face. But if he’s being honest with himself, he actually has no idea how to properly propose!

              The flapping of a Kasugaigarasu’s wings reach the couple’s ears and, soon enough, a familiar crow perches itself on Genya’s outstretched arm.

              “Message! Message from Kamado Tanjiro! Message from Kamado Tanjiro!!!”

              A surge of inspiration strikes Genya. It won’t hurt asking his friends for help now, would it?

--

               “Ah, so you’re planning to propose to [Name]!” Tanjiro exclaims, expression that of pure delight at the information. “I’m very happy for you, Genya!”

               Sitting beside Genya, Zenitsu claps the former on the back with a congratulatory grin. “Good for you, Genya. You’ll have zero regrets once you’re married – spending forever with the woman you love the most is pure heaven, I’m telling you!”

               Inosuke, on the other hand, shoots Genya an unimpressed look. The years may have tamed the Breath of the Beast user’s boorishness, but his competitiveness is another story.

               “Kentaro, Monitsu, and I have been married to our wives for three years already,” the boar head-toting male comments, taunting grin appearing on his face as he rudely points a finger at the unmarried man among the group, “and you haven’t even proposed yet? Hah! You really are a shrimp!”

               Tossing maturity aside, Genya and Inosuke begin attempting to throttle each other and throw childish insults at one another. It brings back memories during the Pillar Training from five years ago, and the ‘fight’ immediately ends with Tanjiro restraining an indignant Inosuke by sitting in seiza on the latter’s back.

               “I haven’t proposed yet because I don’t know how, you stupid boar!” Genya gripes, plopping gracelessly beside a surprised Zenitsu.

               “Just demand for her hand in marriage like I did with my Aoi, dumbass Ginto!” Inosuke yells, struggling under Tanjiro’s restraint.

               Genya rushes forward and slaps a large hand on Inosuke’s mouth, looking frantically between the shoji door and the porch. “Keep it down, Inosuke! What if [Name] hears you? Don’t blow things up!”

               Tanjiro, still restraining their friend, tilts his head to the side in contemplation. “Yes, please keep it down, Inosuke. And I understand why Genya hasn’t proposed yet.” The Breath of the Sun user then shoots Genya a sympathetic smile. “You want it to be memorable, right, Genya? In that case, let us help you!”

               Inosuke stops squirming and, after sharing a knowing grin with Zenitsu, nods at Genya as a show of support.

               Feeling extremely grateful for his friends’ considerateness and willing aid, Genya gets down in dogeza. “T-Thank you, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

--

               Everything goes smoothly as planned.

               During his friends’ next visit in the Wind Pillar’s estate, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke – who have been forthcoming with Genya’s desire to ask for [Name]’s hand in marriage with their other halves – bring their wives with them as planned. While the four males go out in search for the perfect engagement ring (Zenitsu suggested a Western proposal like he did with Nezuko, to which Genya agreed eagerly), Kanao, Nezuko, and Aoi will provide a distraction for [Name]. Even Sanemi pitches in with his offer of help, volunteering as the last resort of a distraction should [Name] begin showing any amount of suspicion about their friends’ unannounced visit.

               The three women are quick to whisk [Name] away from Genya’s arms, chattering brightly about things only they can understand, and Sanemi immediately shoos the four men away once the girls are out of sight.

               “[Name] will be quick to suspect that something might be amiss,” the former Wind Pillar warns the younger men before they leave, eyes shining with pride for his former tsuguko’s perceptiveness. “You better hurry up, you hear me?”

               “We will, Sanemi-san, don’t worry!” Tanjiro replies, bowing and taking their leave.

               Things, however, quickly turn south once they reach the town.

               While merchants from far and wide have been plentiful, the four friends find it difficult to spot even a single jeweller in town. Panic and doubt fills Genya almost immediately, but Tanjiro’s optimism helps drive the negativity away. Zenitsu suggest looking at the next, nearest town, and the four march on with renewed purpose and hope.

               The next town seems to be promising, and Genya’s spirits lift at the sight of a jeweller’s store. He is quick to drag his friends in the shop, but his excited smile quickly vanishes from his face at the sheer amount of rings – in all sizes and variations – behind the glass displays before him.

               “H-How am I supposed to pick one…?” he mutters, face pale at the prospect of choosing a ring that might not even fit [Name] – let alone one that she would love.

               The shop keeper – a foreigner – looks appraisingly at Genya from head to toe before nodding to himself.

               “For proposal?” asks the old man in broken Japanese, briefly glancing over at Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. “Them, too? Propose to girl?”

               Quickly catching on the foreigner’s inquiry, Genya shakes his head and tries to use words that the former will understand. “Only me, sir,” he says nervously, wringing his hands when his lavender eyes sweep back to the assortment of rings in display. “How much for a ring?”

               The old man tuts at him, grey eyes narrowing as he gestures at the rings. “Price depends on ring. These, not for marriage.” He directs Genya to another display, where silver and gold bands set with precious stones are being held. “Propose with these. Pick one.”

               Genya suddenly feels numb at the prospect of choosing among the rings. Each of them is beautiful in their own right – some displaying exquisitely cut diamonds, vivid sapphires, crimson rubies, and viridian emeralds. When he hesitantly points at the one with a single pearl, the old man appraises him once more and shakes his head vehemently.

               “What’s wrong with the pearl, though, old man?” Inosuke pipes from behind Genya. “It’s pretty enough!”

               “Pretty, yes!” The old man agrees then points at Genya. “No fit him, however!”

               Zenitsu frowns at the old shop keeper. “He’s not the one being proposed to, you know!”

               Ever the pacifist, Tanjiro sniffs the air a little then beams at the old man. “I think he doesn’t mean Genya. Let’s hear what grandpa has to say first, shall we?”

               The old man, chuffed with Tanjiro’s reasoning (and being called grandpa, it seems), elaborates while gesturing for Genya to show his hands. Genya complies, confused.

               “This lad, tall and big,” the old foreigner explains while studying the calloused palms under his gaze. “He looks… hmm… what word… ah! Protector! Protective of his woman, yes. Does not make her cry, I think. He does not want to, he looks like. Big hands, huh? Protecting hands, I see. Pearl,” he then points at the ring, “symbol of tears in my country. Tears of sad woman. You make her cry sad tears?”

               “No!” Genya replies loudly, indignantly. Then, in a more reserved tone, “Never. I don’t want to make [Name] cry sad tears.”

               The old man nods in satisfaction then veers the mohawked male’s focus away from the pearl. “I remove that today. Now pick another.”

               Amazed at the explanation and the new bit of information they learned, the four former Demon Slayers shift their focus to the other rings and begin discussing amongst themselves.

               “I still don’t know what to pick,” Genya laments, his gaze bouncing between his friends and the old man. This is much harder than picking the ore for his very first nichirin blade!

               “Genya, I know it’s a hard decision to make,” Tanjiro tells him kindly, “but think of [Name] while looking at the rings. I’m sure your love for her will guide you to the right ring!”

               “Red hair, right,” the old man chimes in, nodding at a beaming Tanjiro. “Don’t worry, erase worry. Let love guide you, then choose.”

               “I dunno about these rings,” Inosuke claims and gives Genya’s shoulder a supportive pat. “But Jangoro and old man are right! I pick Aoi because I love her. I’m sure you’ll pick the right ring!”

               “Aoi is not a ring, though,” Zenitsu mumbles under his breath. “But you can do it, Genya! Take your time!”

               Overwhelmed by the support of his friends and a stranger’s kind and patient guidance, Genya’s determined gaze sweeps over the rings, lavender eyes widening at the sight of one that particularly stands out amongst the rest.

--

               With the chosen ring now within the safety of a small velvet box and tucked in his hakama’s pocket, Genya and the gang moves forward to the second and most important part of the plan: the proposal itself.

               While Zenitsu suggests a grand declaration of love and marriage as supported by a pumped up Inosuke, Tanjiro agrees with Genya’s plan of making the proposal simple yet utterly heartfelt. With the Hanami coming ever closer, the younger Shinazugawa brother plans to ask for [Name]’s hand in marriage under the blooming sakura trees and the bright rays of spring sunlight.

               “How did it go?” Kanao asks quietly about their search for the previously elusive engagement ring. Aoi and Nezuko are helping [Name] gather some flowers from the garden under Sanemi’s guidance, distracting her enough for Kanao to slip past and welcome the four men when they arrive.

               Tanjiro hugs his wife and receives the kiss she gives him with a blush on his face, then displays a smile of success for Kanao to see.

               “We had to move to the nearest town to search for a ring, but Genya did it!” Tanjiro whispers excitedly. “The ring perfectly fits [Name]… I’m sure you’ll agree when you see it, Kanao!”

               The adopted sister of the Kocho siblings smiles proudly at her husband. “I can’t wait for the day Genya proposes. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy spending the rest of his life married to [Name], like I am with you.”

               Needless to say, Tanjiro is reduced to a blushing mess at his wife’s sincere remark. And like Kanao, he cannot wait for the day [Name] says yes to Genya.

--

               The first day of the Hanami finally comes, bringing with it the first of spring’s sudden torrential rains.

               Genya’s plan comes crashing to the ground as he watches the pouring rain despondently. He grips the velvet box containing the ring in one hand, wondering if he’s not meant for giving [Name] the wedding proposal she so deserves.

               He feels Sanemi’s hand on his shoulder, ducking his head forlornly when the older between the two huffs at the rain.

               “Is this it for you, then?” Sanemi asks him, an uncharacteristic look of disbelief on his scarred face. “You’re letting this rain derail you on your journey to happiness?”

               “[Name] loves hanami, though, nii-chan,” Genya laments, shoulders slumping as he pockets the box.

               The former Wind Pillar grins and ruffles his younger brother’s hair. “You really are one hopeless little brother,” he says in jest, grin turning into a soft smile when Genya looks at him in mock hurt. “[Name] loves you, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind how you propose to her.”

               “Really?”

               “Tch. I know so, idiot. Now scram and give me a sister-in-law already.”

               Genya is already barrelling out of the room, shouting “yes!” at the top of his lungs before Sanemi can react. The younger Shinazugawa storms down the hallways, doing a double take when he spots [Name] sitting on the engawa by the garden and watching the rain.

               For someone who is about to ask for his beloved’s hand in marriage, Genya feels oddly calm as he shortens the distance between the two of them. He sits beside [Name] and stares at her, quietly taking in the softness of her features when she tilts her head up to smile at him.

               Oh, gods. He really is utterly, unabashedly, deeply, and head over heels in love with her. And the tender look in her eyes when looks at him assures him that she absolutely feels the same.

               He retrieves the box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a slender silver band topped with [favourite gemstone] cut like dainty petals. Genya gently wipes the tears of joyful understanding and profound love on her face with his free hand. The question in his mouth becomes a promise of forever when he speaks.

               “I hope you’ll let me make you the happiest woman alive, [Name]. Please take me as your husband.”

               Genya gratefully and lovingly receives her kiss when she replies, “I’ll have no one else, Genya. Only you.”

               (Much to Genya’s delight, [Name] indeed tells their twin sons – with a furious blush on her face – how his wedding proposal to her went three years later. And, fairly enough for his flustered wife, he sports the same shade of red on his face when their boys begin to tease him about it.)

 .

.

.

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[blackmissfrizzle]

The Dress

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Based off of this

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, Implied smut, angst, and fluff!!!

A/N: My first Angel fic and I’m in love. Also, I’ll probably use this same idea with different guys, so if you don’t like Angel, you may be getting someone different!

This time you were sure blood was drawn. What did you do to deserve such horrendous torture?

“Ouch, that hurt,” you complained, staring down at the perpetrator.

“If you’d be still, then it wouldn’t hurt,” Marisol sassed back.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, which in return earned you a smack to your bottom. “Don’t use the good Lord’s name in vain!” Marisol scolded you.

Marisol better be lucky that you love her or otherwise you wouldn’t be doing her this favor. She was the best seamstress in Santo Padre and made you many dresses for the events your father dragged you to. So, when she asked you for a favor you weren’t hesitant.

Her granddaughter was getting married, but she lived in LA and wasn’t accessible for dress fittings. Luckily, you and her granddaughter had the same measurements, so Marisol asked if you could stand in for her and you agreed.

“Aw, mija you trying to become skin and bones?” She asked, feeling around your hips.

You palmed your face. Only Marisol would think losing a couple of pounds on your thick frame as a bad thing. “Don’t worry, Marisol. I won’t lose too much, so you can finish the dress.”

“I’m not worried about that! It’s Angelito that may have something to say.”

Rolling your eyes, you dared to ask the woman why she would even mention your best friend. “What does Angel have to do with this?”

“Because men want a woman with curves they can hold onto.”

“We’re just- ”

“Best friends,” Marisol finished for you. “Yeah, yeah yeah, you always say that. But the way he follows you around like a lost puppy dog, suggests otherwise.”

Just as you were opening your mouth for a witty retort, the roar of motorcycles announcing the arrival of the Mayans.

As usual Bishop was the first one through the door, flanked by Hank and Taza. The men first greeted Marisol, but soon noticed you. “Who’s the lucky guy and why haven’t we met him?” Bishop asked, opening up his arms for a hug.

Quickly Marisol swept Bishop’s arms away from your direction. “Don’t you dare get your dirty, greasy biker hands near my dress! And she’s not getting married, just a real life mannequin for my granddaughter.”

“Thank God! Don’t want Angel to have a heart attack,” Hank teased. You narrowed your eyes at him, as everyone in the room began to laugh.

The loud creaking of the front door notified you of more people coming in the house. “Woah, who knew you looked good in a dress?” Coco commented soon as he saw you.

“Screw you, Coco! I wear dresses all the time!”

“Yeah, to those fancy ass parties, never around us.”

Coco had a point. Around the Mayans you only wore jeans and t-shirts. You could relax with them unlike with your dad. He always had you prancing around and mingling at overrated parties, so he could gain more clients for his private security firm.

“Y/N, you look beautiful,” EZ said, pulling you from your thoughts. Next to him was his older brother, eyes wide open and mouth bobbing up and down, leaving you wondering if you looked horrible in the dress.

You thought you did the one armed dress service. The cinched waist hid your tummy and the ruffles gave you a princess flair. Also, white always looks good on brown skin, but maybe Angel thought otherwise. “Hey, second-best looking Reyes brother, what do you think?”

Instead of answering you, Angel bolted out the door. “He’s uh, still drunk.” EZ tried to excuse his brother, but the lie was unbelievable. You knew what a drunk Angel looked like and that Angel looked anything but drunk.

Marisol refused to let you follow him, stating some outdated nonsense like a woman never chases after a man. So you dutifully stood there, wondering did you look that bad, while the rest of the Mayans ate the food Marisol fixed for them and threatened to kick Angel’s ass for you.

Hours later you found yourself outside of the Mayans clubhouse. Angel wouldn’t respond to any of your texts and you were tired of being ignored.

You didn’t know the specifics, but you knew they closed some deal with another MC, Sons of something , you couldn’t recall. But they were celebrating the deal with an infamous Mayans party.

The lot was littered with motorcycles, bikers, barely dressed women and beer bottles. And inside the clubhouse it was no different.

EZ was at the bar pouring drinks instead of partying. He nodded to you and then pointed in the direction of where Angel was sitting.

Great, the man-whore had two biker bimbos in his lap. Each woman sneered at you when approached him. “Reyes we need to talk.”

“Not right now, Y/N.” Angel replied, not even glancing your way.

“Yeah, go away you big fat black cow,” one of the girls muttered.

Suddenly, the girl was on the ground with Angel standing over her, yelling at her to leave and never to come back. At least Angel never let anyone disrespect you, even if he did.

Deciding to wait him out, you went to the bar, where EZ had a drink waiting for you. “That guy’s a real asshole,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted your pity party.

“Huh,” you turned to the stranger. His kutte wasn’t like the Mayans, so he had to be from the other MC. On the corner it read ‘Prez’ then ‘SAMCRO.’ But his kutte didn’t hold your attention for too long, because his face was so damn beautiful. If you weren’t already half in love with Angel, you would’ve thought he was the best looking guy there.

“That guy’s an asshole for dismissing the most beautiful woman here. But I guess I would be intimidated by you as well.”

“Intimidated? No way, Angel’s not interested in me.”

The stranger pointed the end of his beer towards Angel, who was burning holes on the middle of his head. “Then why is he staring daggers at me?”

“He’s just overprotective.” You told yourself more than him. You couldn’t let yourself hope or you would be heartbroken if you learned Angel didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

The blonde man licked his lips and stared at you. “Wanna test that?”

It seemed the man had good intentions, but you never know with bikers. “How,” you asked suspiciously.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jax Teller, president of Sons of Anarchy.” He introduced himself, reaching for your hand for a handshake.

“Y/N Y/L/N, disgruntled best friend.” When you put your hand in his, he pulled you to him, mere inches from his face. Once again he asked if you trusted him and this time you shook your head yes.

In an instant Jax’s lips were claiming yours. He licked the seam of your lips, asking for access inside of your mouth and you granted it. His kiss was fiery and passionate, and you wished you could enjoy it more instead of wishing it was a certain Mayan.

Feeling a pair of hands on your shoulders, you thought it was Jax until you were pulled away. Looking up at the culprit, you saw stormy brown eyes that belong to Angel Reyes. Without saying a word he dragged you out and into EZ’s RV.

“What the fuck was that?” Angel screamed at you. You had to admit he was hot when he was angry, but you didn’t like when he was angry at you.

“It’s called kissing. And here I thought you got passed first base. Guess I was wrong.” Shrugging your shoulders you moved passed Angel to leave, but he quickly blocked your path.

“Why the fuck did you have your lips on another MC’s president? Specifically the one we’re doing business with. What, you want to be some white boy’s cum dump?”

Angel knee he fucked up when he saw the surprised reaction on your face, so he braced himself for what was coming next. Without disappointment, you decked Angel in the face. “Fuck you! How about you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

Silently, Angel stood there contemplating if he should tell you the truth. Only thing was, he was taking too long. “Ok, nothing? I guess I’ll be keeping Jax’s bed warm tonight.”

“The dress,” he muttered weakly.

“What about the dress? Did I look that awful in it that you had to avoid me the rest of the day? Because if that’s the case, you’re a real shitty friend Angel Reyes. All you had to say is I looked bad in it.” You continued rambling on how he could’ve told you in different ways that he didn’t like the dress, until he interrupted you.

“Fuck no, querida! I was thinking the opposite!” Calming down, Angel led you to the table and knelt before you while you sat. “I was thinking about how I would love to see you in that dress walking down an aisle towards me. I was thinking about the kids we could have and the fun we would have making them. I was thinking about how I’m in love with my best friend, but I’ll never be enough for her because she deserves better.” At the end of his declaration, Angel laid his head in your lap and cried.

For a moment, his declaration left you stunned, but once you realized you hadn’t said anything, you confessed your own feelings. “I love you, Angel Reyes. And not as a best friend, but as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Angel lifted his head up to make sure he was hearing you right. Cupping his face, you leaned your forehead against his. “I love you, Angel and if I ever hear you say you’re not good enough for me, I will personally put a cap in your ass. You hear me?”

“You know I get hard every time you threaten to physically hurt me?” He joked, obviously back to his old self.

Weakly you pushed him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “You’re disgusting, Angel!”

“But you love me anyway, like I do you.”

With your arms around his neck, playing with his hair, you replied, “Unfortunately, you’re right.”

Angel snuggled his face in the crook of your neck and began leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “Dame un beso, querida.” He gruffly commanded into your ear.

Happily obliging, you gave Angel the kiss he asked for. His was much more enjoyable than Jax’s and you knew he ruined you for other men. Angel’s kiss was reminding you that you were always his and always will be. The kiss was stirring up desires, that you would have to apology to EZ for sating them in his RV. Sadly, a knock interrupted any future plans.

“Y/N, you ain’t kill him? It’s too quiet in there.” Coco’s muffled voice carried through. You both stood up and you were about to turn the door knob until Angel stopped you.

He took his kutte off and put it on you. “Just so everyone knows who you belong to. Especially Teller.”

You laughed at Angel’s possessiveness and kissed him quickly. “He was just helping me out.” Angel rolled his eyes, remembering the predatory look in Jax’s eyes when he saw you. “Really, babe. He wanted to see if he could get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah, well this tells him and everyone you’re off limits. Now open the door, before we let Coco loudly know I’m not dead.” He smacked your ass as you opened the door.

When the door completely opened, it revealed all of the Mayans and a couple of the Sons. All of them had smirks on their faces and you assumed it was at how crazy you looked. Your hair was flying everywhere and Angel had your brown lipstick on his lips.

Coco started a slow clap that eventually had all the Mayans joining in. Both you and Angel flipped them off, but they all just laughed it off.

“Angel’s finally got his head out from stuck up his ass. Just took another man taking interest in Y/N.” Bishop commented. Basically everyone had said the same thing and congratulated you two. The only disappointed ones were the girls who hung around the bar. Even Jax congratulated you two, but told you to him up if Angel messed up.

Throughout the night, you and Angel would randomly tell each other ‘I love you.’ And even though, you were hearing and saying it excessively, you knew you would never grow tired of it, because Angel was the one for you and vice versa.

Taglist: @cocooned-butterfly @titty-teetee @dannixchristian @ladydragonpurplefire @sincerelysinister @mrsamaroevans @honeychicana

[nonsensicalobsessions]

But You Are Mine

Prompt: Loki/OFC AU, nurse

Author’s Note: So, after an incredibly long hiatus, the Muse returned and left this story with me, so I could respond to the mystery prompt challenge as posed by Little Darlin’s AU Mystery Challenge. It was an interesting set up: I chose the pairing, and the prompt I wanted (song, dialogue prompt, or a nonverbal prompt, or AU) which would was then selected by Little Darlin.  I will let you, the reader, decide how well I fulfilled the prompt I chose and drew...

Tired. So unbelievably tired, I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer, nor could I come up with a reason to do so.

The bath water was warm, and deep, my head was so heavy, and my eyes burned...what was the point? Rest, a persuasive voice whispered inside my head. Just close your eyes for awhile, what harm will it do? You are finally warm, after feeling so cold and miserable.

The humidity felt so good in my aching throat and the scent of almonds and honey soothed me further as I allowed myself to drift off.

Come now, Little One. You need to shake this lethargy off, and sit up.

I need to do no such thing. This voice was new, and unwelcome, and it could piss off. 

Hearing voices in my head wasn’t nearly as upsetting as it might seem on the surface. They weren’t true auditory hallucinations...most of the time. I knew I had an active imagination. Usually it was a source of comfort for me and my solitary, sheltered existence. The more upsetting mono- or dialogues I had become disciplined enough to shut out. Therapy is a wonderful thing.

You most certainly do, or else the consequences will be most dire.

Oh? Such as?

Such as, I am the only thing keeping you from falling asleep, and as such slipping under the surface of the water and drowning.

The voice was quiet, and firm. Curiously enough, it was male. Huh. A lovely baritone, come to that. Most of my voices were either female, or asexual.

I somehow think my first inhalation of water would be sufficient to wake me up, but thank you for reinforcing your poor opinion of me, whoever you are. You may go now. Just...so tired...

You are tired because you haven’t eaten in three days, nor had anything to drink for two. And you are also tired because you are barely conscious. You are quite ill and in dire need of medical assistance. Does the thought of impending death not move you at all? 

Voice, who are you and why should I even care? Voices come and voices go. None of them speak truth, they simply tell stories or say what I want to hear. Just leave me to some god damned rest for a change.

No. This god will not let you have the rest of the damned.

Oh bullshit. There are no gods. And if there are, none of them speak to me, or care enough to make their presence known. I’ve tried.

Can you not hear me answer you?

I’m dreaming. That’s all this is. And I challenge you, Nameless God—who are you, and why would you come to me now anyway? Why can’t you just let me go in peace?

Because I have been watching over you, my dear. I’ve heard you calling out to me in joy, in mischievous laughter, in rage, in despair, but most delightfully in passion...and yet, your calls have dwindled, and your supplications grown smaller, and finally silent. I came to see about you, and find you on the verge of passing beyond even my reach...why? Why have you allowed yourself to fail so grievously ill?

I repeat—who are you?

Beautiful mortal. I’m your Loki. Open your eyes.

Struggling, I managed to force my eyelids to open. It was time to force myself out of this reverie that was bound to sink my soul deeper into the mire of depression should I continue. There would be no one there, because there was never anyone there.

Crouched besides my tub, was...someone. A male figure, in armor that was casually unfastened at his throat. His index finger lightly supported my chin, as my body had in fact slipped a lot lower than I realized. Careless of modesty, I struggled to sit up, but my head felt poorly supported by my neck, and I leaned it heavily against the side of the bath. I blearily realized perhaps I was sicker than I realized, as my imagination had now exploded into full blown delusions. Auditory, visual, tactile...whee, such fun...

“You do not seem overly distressed to find me here.”

“Begging your pardon, but I fear you are not. Clearly I am spiking a temperature and am delirious. I knew I was feeling ill beforehand but had no idea...”

“Oh, you skeptical woman. You are indeed sick, in fact I am still unsure what can be done for you, but none of my favored will slip away in a bath if I can give at least some assistance to aid their passage.” And with that, I found myself being lifted, and tenderly brought to my bed, instantly dry and clad in the loveliest nightdress I’d ever seen. Certainly finer than anything I had in my possession.

“What...?”

“Darling, you deserve something beautiful. But right now, I fear your body is shutting down. You should not have neglected yourself so sorely. Why have you?”

At this point, I decided to just go with it.

“Are you then, truly...”

“Yes, I am the same Loki you’ve called out to many, many times. Your very own.”

“Why do you say it like that? ‘My very own’? Surely there can only be one of you...?”

“Little One, have you no idea how many multiverses exist? For whatever reason, I have found you, and therefore I have claimed you as mine. I do not share easily, if at all. Should another incarnation of myself suddenly appear, he would have quite a fight on his hands. You are mine. I know everything about you...how you read well past your bedtime. The many, many hundreds of thousands of words you have written, but have never shared with anyone—why? You’ve created entire universes of your own, woven wondrous tapestries filled with richness and delight, but have locked them away in secret...composed anthologies of poems...” Long fingers played with my hair as I stared into his eyes, struck dumb by his revelations as he looked pointedly at my stacks of journals that were perched on my nightstand, leaned on shelves, and even sat on the floor.

His face was a confusion for me. He wasn’t as described in the eddas, nor was he the mirror image of the MCU character.

“Of course not,” he laughed, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “I am me, and no one else. Just as you are yourself.” Drat the man, he was even reading my mind now, or at least reading my expressions...

His eyes were almost a kaleidoscope of green and blue, and his hair a rich black waterfall of wavy locks, his lips neither thin nor thick, and his teeth...I had to shake myself from getting lost in his physical magnetism. 

“I don’t know what to say,” I murmured. “If you know so much, why are you asking me these questions, and why are you coming now, when everything has gotten so bad?”

“When I saw you last, things weren’t so dire, pet,” he confessed. “I wasn’t going to manifest myself unless I thought you truly needed me. You were content, I thought—you had your life with your friends, your activities...why should I upset everything? God of Chaos and Mischief I am, but I had no desire to destroy your life for no purpose. I adore mischief and pranks. I would bring pain to you.”

“Loki, everything is gone,” I whispered, trying to contain my grief. “Everything I was striving for...I’m never going to get better, you know, the physical therapists told me I’ve hit my maximum potential. The only thing I can do is have surgery, which will be expensive, painful, and risky with uncertain outcome. There will be no one to help me recuperate, to further complicate matters. My job is at risk because I can’t keep up any longer. I’ve worked so long to help everyone else, but...”

“Now you need help, and everyone has disappeared, aye,” he concluded sadly. “I am sorry. I know you have struggled with this for a long time.”

“I never felt like I wanted outlandish things. I wanted to have a family of my own. A husband who loved me, found me physically desirable...”

“You are incredibly desirable,” Loki growled fiercely. “By the Nine, I’ve watched you as you have lain in your narrow bed of nights, wondering what ails the men of this realm that you have had to take care of your needs alone. Your body in passion has inflamed me in ways I can barely tolerate without slipping through and ravishing you without so much as a by your leave...!”

“But you didn’t” I hotly interrupted. “For whatever reason, you didn’t. Whether I was too old, too disabled, too fragile, too mortal, too unattractive...you like every other male found your pleasures elsewhere, and...”

“Be very careful,” Loki hissed. “You are close to unleashing something you know nothing of...”

“Well of course I know nothing of it, I just want a family, babies, children, I just wanted to be loved, and yet you find me about to drown in my own bathtub! And come to it, why didn’t you just leave me be? At least the pain and the loneliness and the aching would be over! What is the point, or are you going to be just as distant as all the other gods in the pantheon...!”

I didn’t say anymore, because speech was no longer possible. Loki had swooped down, crushed my body to his, and was kissing me with a thoroughness I never dreamed possible.

What need for breath had I, when there were such kisses to be had? My head was spinning, my heart was pounding, and the edges of my vision were growing dark as I lost myself in him, my hands slowly then more confidently pressing him even closer to me, so I could feel his silky locks in my fingers, his chest rising and falling.

“I warned you,” he said at last, allowing me to greedily inhale at last. “You taunt me, showing me where I may have failed in the past, but I will refuse myself no longer. I thought by denying myself the pleasure of being in your company, I was doing what was best for you, but no more! You are mine, and I will be the one to give you all, whether you wish it or not. No mortal men for you, my darling. I will have Eir herself if necessary at your bedside, and what Eir cannot heal, I shall unleash my seidr upon, and what magic cannot improve, I swear I will fetch and carry and give to you whatever you need so you will be comfortable and happy. No healer will be as dedicated. No handmaiden as constant.”

I sat back. “You...really care? You care that much?”

“Sweetling? I may be your Loki...but you?”

He leaned forward and cradled my body against his, his voice husky and tantalizing, his breath barely brushing against my ear.

“...you are my Ástvinur. I cannot, will not be without you another moment. I refuse. Seeing you about to slip away...no. I have chosen you, and you are mine.”

@sourpatchkidsandacokecan @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @hopelessromanticspoonie @winterisakiller @redfoxwritesstuff @ciaodarknessmyheart @villainousshakespeare @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @vodka-and-some-sass @theheartofpenelope @sabine-leo @wegingerangelica @the-insomniac-cat2 @alexakeyloveloki @myoxisbroken @ladyfluff @toomanystoriessolittletime

[fatefulfaerie]

Night

First post of 2020. Pre-Calamity. I shouldn’t even try to call this a oneshot because it’s really long and I honestly don’t know what else to do with it except dump it here and see what happens. Might be chaos. You know what, it’s a longshot, I’ll embrace the pun just this once because it works. Making history over here. 

What have I become?

A starry night glistened in the darkness, the sun long set and the moon high. The noises of insects and nocturnal animals were left unheard within the castle walls, the calm night rather unsettling.

Link breathed a sigh as he looked out the window, his hands drifting down to its’ sill. He bowed his head as he stared at his hands, calloused and worn from training.

A battle, that which, he knew not of. He trained endlessly for a fight that seemed both near and distant all at once. More and more he wished it would never come, that the Sheikah who prophesied the Calamity was fluent in gibberish.

Suddenly, Link heard three knocks at his door, his head popping up and his blue eyes alarmed.

He strode to the door cautiously, wondering at length who in Hyrule would call on him at this hour. His eyelids already had some weight, his fatigue creeping upon him like the impending threat to Hyrule.

Link opened the door lethargically with a creased brow until his eyes widened.

He felt paralyzed as the Princess entered his room with a distressed exclamation, the wild gesture of her arms showing her frustration as she walked further into Link’s quarters with an odd urgency.

“H-h-hi,” Link stammered in shock as he held the door open for no one.

She had never been in his quarters before, and surely there were tons of protocols that dictated against it, especially at this hour.

“Unbelievable!” she exclaimed as she started to pace back to forth. “I just...ugh!”

Link closed the door, his concern melting his expression.

He stepped towards her in her chaos, her anger steaming and rushing her to and fro.

“Hey,” he said gently, placing his hands on either of her shoulders. “Look at me.”

Zelda settled as her eyes found his.

“Tell me,” Link said. “What happened?”

The Princess gave an exhale. Her hands gestured surrender, giving in to the calm that Link was encouraging.

Link’s hands slid off her shoulders as a result.

“My father was waiting for me,” she started in a slow way, apparent that she was trying to keep her anger at bay. “I dismissed you for the night, walked in the library, and there he was.”

Zelda crossed past Link as he winced at the thought. The Princess sat on his bed in such a comfortable way that it didn’t seem improper at all.

Link followed suit, sitting next to her with a look of concern in his turned head.

“I just stood there as he yelled at me...I didn’t know what else to do. I had spent half the day away from praying to Goddesses, riding around a Hyrule with the Yiga Clan surely in wait. He had his work cut out for him as disciplinarian with me as his daughter.”

“He had called it gallivanting, scolding me for such frivolity. He couldn’t understand that...I just wanted a break.”

Zelda’s voice broke as her shoulders went up, her fists clenching the fabric of her pants.

“I’ve been trying so hard to unlock the sealing power...he...he can’t see it.”

Link placed a hand on her shoulder when he heard the change in her voice, how the coming tears warped her words.

“All he sees is my failure...and I...I can’t fix that when that’s all there is to see.”

“Zelda, you know that isn’t true,” Link implored, insisted, in fact.

“It’s what he told me,” Zelda said as her eyes met his, the green swimming with waves of new tears.

Link shook his head.

“I’m sure he didn’t,” he said, his hand coming off her shoulder.

Zelda nodded with a sniffle of her nose.

“How can you be so careless?” She relayed, her head going downcast.  “No daughter of mine would try so little. Your failure can only be a fault of yours.”

Link felt something inside him completely sink, like some part of his body was torn from him.

He inhaled to speak, wishing to find words in a way that had eluded him in the past.

“He didn’t say anything after that,” Zelda said, speaking before Link could. “I could tell he wanted to, but the anger in his eyes told me that I didn’t want to hear it.”

“What did you do?” Link asked.

Zelda sighed.

“So much less than I wanted,” she replied. “I wanted to shout and scream, with the same anger that was in his privilege. I envied his candid rage as I stood there in the library, alone. I…didn’t know what else to do but stand there.”

“I felt directionless as I exited the library,” Zelda continued. “Weak...vulnerable...his words ringing in my ears, clouding yours and mine. I started to believe him.”

“Zelda…” Link replied. “You can’t. Nothing he said is true. You are so much more than a goddess reincarnate, than a weapon for Hyrule.”

“Like you are?” she retorted as she looked up.

Link was bewildered by her response, at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I just feel like that’s all we are here, tools and toys to be used and played with. Destined to be discarded in the wake of failure.”

Link was silent as he stood up, pacing to the opposite wall before stealing a glance at the Master Sword. It was resting on a wooden chest, sheathed and away.

Sometimes, Link preferred it that way.

Yet his train of thought shifted quickly as something came together in his head. He turned around swiftly to face Zelda, studying her hesitant expression.

His brow furrowed in contemplation, his head tilted slightly as his concern grew.

“You were angry when you came in here,” he said. “Not sad and despondent.”

Zelda’s eyes met his.

“Something else happened,” Link ascertained as he stepped forward. He focused greatly on the rising anger in her green eyes.

“He must have been looking for me...I don’t know how else he found me.”

“Who?” Link asked.

Zelda didn’t respond.

“Zelda, you’re starting to scare me,” Link said. “Who found you? Were you attacked? There should have been guards posted—”

Zelda waved her hand to stop him.

“Do you remember that Sheikah bard?

Link searched in his memory as a crease developed on his forehead.

As far as Sheikah went, there was Impa, Purah, Robbie...but they were all scientists and historians…

“He gave me flowers last week,” Zelda prompted, hoping that would be enough to jog his memory.

Link was the worst at remembering things sometimes. Zelda joked with him often that he would contract amnesia in his old age. To which, of course, he would refute her claim that he would need her help to reclaim his memories.

Mostly as a sense of pride, somewhat as a sense of playing along with the banter.

And a small part of him didn’t want to think about how much he wanted to be by her side in his old age, and all the ages before.

“Oh yeah,” he said as the memory overcame him. “I didn’t like hi—”

He stopped himself, realizing why he was the topic of their conversation.

“I wasn’t in the mood,” Zelda started. “My father had already taken everything out of me. I tried to tell him that I was tired, but he insisted on having a word with me.”

Link pulled up a chair, sitting across from Zelda and leaning his elbows on his knees.

“He...apologized for being so forward, attributing it to my early departure tomorrow. And then he...he…”

Zelda took a deep breath.

“He told me that he was...in love with me,” Zelda said, Link’s heart sinking and an anger rising within himself. “And that he wishes to court me.”

“What did you say?” Link asked timidly.

“I…didn’t get a chance to say anything before…”

“Before what?” Link inquired, his anger now showing.

“He...he tried to kiss me,” Zelda said, Link standing up in his reaction, resisting the urge to grab the Master Sword and track him down.

“I pushed him away before he did,” Zelda continued, Link’s hands balling into fists, “rejecting his proposal...but he was so angry…he didn’t understand that I had a mind of my own, that being a reputable target for men to fawn over didn’t lower my standards...that asking me warranted giving me a choice, and therefore respect.”

“It angered me how little he must think my opinion is worth, the way he tried to convince me of his own merit, I...I was fed up with once again having to stand there and listen to someone devalue me...my opinion…I...I snapped.”

Link turned his head to her in a fast motion.

“I told him something,” Zelda said. “That I shouldn’t have...loudly and improperly, without thinking. And...it made him more upset.”

“What could you possibly tell him that would upset him so much?”

Suddenly there were three more knocks on the door, Link and Zelda’s eyes widening as they met.

She stood up quickly, in her expression a building panic.

“I can’t be here.”

“You can’t be here,” Link repeated.

“They’ll think we…”

Zelda stopped at the inference, and Link shook his head at the thought.

He strode towards the closet, judging it’s size.

“It’s too small,” he said as he looked behind him.

But Zelda was already crouched near the bed, looking underneath.

“I think I can fit under here.”

Three more knocks came at the door, alarming Link and Zelda.

“O-one second!” Link called out.

“For goodness sake,” Link said quietly as she crawled under. “If whoever it is finds you here.”

“They won’t,” Zelda whispered, retreating further backwards into the space under the bed. Now on her stomach, she stopped moving completely, knowing she’d have to live with the discomfort.

The Princess heard the door open, Link exclaiming a suspiciously nervous,

“Hi!”

If Zelda could move, she would have buried her face in her palms.

“Hi…” the mysterious guest said slower.

But, soon enough, it was no mystery to Zelda, the tones of the Gerudo chief ringing in her ears.

“I don’t know where Zelda is,” Link said, Zelda wincing.

“I know,” Urbosa said as she let herself in. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh...Oh...kay..?”

“Close the door, Link,” Urbosa said as she crossed her arms. “Unless someone else is joining us?”

“Y-yes, of course,” closing the door.

“You seem more...talkative than usual, knight,” Urbosa commented, glaring down at the short-statured champion.

Link chuckled nervously.

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Urbosa said. “I wanted to talk to you about Zelda.”

“What about her?” Link prompted.

“I’m just concerned,” she said with a sigh. “You probably spend the most time with her nowadays...I just want to make sure that you aren’t afraid to truly be there for her.”

“Y-yeah totally,” Link replied.

“Especially tomorrow,” Urbosa continued. “If her powers don’t awaken, she’ll surely blame herself...and I’d hate for her to feel that way.”

“Of course,” Link said sincerely.

“She’s like a daughter to me, and if I can’t be there for her...I need your promise that you will. I know it’s not technically part of your duty, but...she needs you.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Link replied. “I...actually don’t know how I couldn’t support her like that.”

Urbosa narrowed her eyes slightly.

“So, you like her, huh?”

“Of course I—oh you mean like like...uhmm…”

Urbosa raised an eyebrow as Link gave a nervous chuckle.

“It, uhh...it isn’t...”

Link cursed that he could never quite find the words. Now would be a great time.

“...appropriate to talk about her in such a manner,” Link finally said with relief. “L-let her be her own person, you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“Wait, what?” Link asked, panicked.

Urbosa laughed, the type of hearty laugh that only Gorons or Gerudo could brandish.

“I’m just kidding,” she said as she headed towards the door. “Lighten up a bit, hero.”

“And get some sleep,” she said as she departed, closing the door behind her.

Link gave an exhale of relief before kneeling to look under his bed.

And, sure enough, a pair of green eyes met his pair of blue.

“I imagine you don’t want to stay there all night,” he said with a smirk.

“I’d rather not,” Zelda said as she crawled out. Link watched as she stood up, dusting herself off.

“Never a dull moment, I suppose,” Zelda added, trying to fake a smile as she sat back down on the bed.

“Are you okay?” Link asked with concern in his eyes, sitting beside her.

Zelda sighed, closing her eyes.

“I’m just so tired of everything.”

“Except you,” she said, opening her eyes to see Link’s, their longing gazes piercing into each other as they stared.

“Sorry,” Zelda said averting her glance. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

“It’s okay,” Link replied. “Honesty is good.”

Zelda met her back to the bed quickly with an exasperated sigh. Her hands entangled by her fingers, resting them on her forehead.

Link only looked to her over his shoulder, resisting following her actions.

“Have you ever thought about what you are going to do after?”

“After?” he asked.

“After all this,” she clarified. “Calamity Ganon...after we are done. What do you think you’ll do?”

“I don’t know,” Link replied. “I guess I haven’t thought about it.”

“I envy you,” Zelda said.

“Why?” Link asked, turning to her fully as Zelda propped herself up by the shoulders.

“You could do anything you want afterwards,” Zelda explained. “Go back to Hateno, settle in Lanayru, travel as you please. My father would surely understand if you wanted to resign your commission and would pay you handsomely for your deeds as the hero and as my attendant.”

Link turned away from her, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I would give up much for that freedom,” Zelda added.

“Hyrule needs you,” Link countered.

“My father would disagree.”

“Your father isn’t the future,” Link said as he turned, locking eyes with her and putting a hand to his knee. “You are.”

There was a silence as Zelda looked down, pondering his words.

“Would you mind humoring me,” she said quietly. “Please? Just this once.”

“You say that a lot, you know,” Link said with a slight smile, turning to face her completely and crossing his legs.

Zelda only looked up, those pained green eyes apparently all he needed to be convinced.

Link shrugged before looking down, running his fingers along the bedspread.

“I’d probably stay here,” he said, his voice almost a mumble.

“You’d be promoted,” Zelda said, Link pursing his lips in response. “Is that really what you want?”

Link looked right to her at the question, his piercing blue gaze staying long enough for her to look at it skeptically.

“Yes,” he said, averting his glance. Zelda sat up as she did the same.

“But…” he started hesitantly. “There are other things I would love if I had the freedom you so described.”

Zelda eyebrows furrowed.

“Link...what are you talking about? You could do anything you want...I don’t understand.”

Link gave a small smile.

“It’s nothing,” he said as he stood up. “And if you are in here any longer, they will send search parties after you.”

“Oh come on,” she pleaded, also standing up. “I can keep a secret. Tell me what you want, m-maybe I can help.”

Link looked to the ceiling and whispered,

“Goodness sake.”

“Do you want to get caught in here?” he asked normally, turning her around to face the door.

“No.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Zelda turned around excitedly with a pointed finger.

“And then you’ll tell me what it is you want?”

“Sure,” he said, teasingly. “If you unlock your powers I’ll tell you all about it.”

Zelda scoffed, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

Link laughed, holding his hands weakly in surrender.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Link said with a continued laugh, before he forced a seriousness, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry.”

"I know,” Zelda said with a smile, slowly heading to the door.

“Hey, umm...Zelda?”

“Yes?” she asked, turning back around.

“When we get back from Lanayru, I...I know it’s against protocol, but...I want you to know that you’re welcome in my quarters anytime.”

Zelda smiled, Link eyes widening in response.

“Oh goddesses,” he said as he panicked running his hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean it like that, I...I swear...I just meant any time you need s-someone to talk to, I-I’m here, well not here specifically, I could be other places, you know, knight attendant...stuff...with you! You’re there! You know!”

Zelda was trying so hard not to laugh, her hands now over her mouth.

“No! N-not with you specifically, I meant…”

His words faded.

“You’re laughing.”

“Yes?”

Link chuckled.

“I suppose my embarrassment is worth it if it gets you to smile.”

“I suppose so,” Zelda said with a shrug.

“Goodnight,” he said, opening the door wider than he likely should have.

“Goodnight,” she replied before he closed the door with a respectful nod.

Yet, he lost all countenance once it latched close, his back and his head meeting the door.

“You,” he said. “It’s you I want, you silly girl.”

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader   Warnings: Not much except for the dangers for staying up all night. And Meta. Word count: 1,900. Chapter Summary: Fanfiction is not your friend. A/N: I am very sorry but like all my writing we are in that awkward middle where we have to hang on for dear life and hope the writing improves by the end.

Ao3 if you prefer

You hadn’t gone looking for it, the story. Your new online friend sent you a link. Innocently. Casually. Like she wasn’t going to absolutely, swiftly, and utterly change everything.

It was only supposed to be a story.

You had tried to explain as gently as possible that you weren’t reading fics anymore but she'd sent you the link anyway, in case you changed your mind. She hadn’t been holding a gun to your head or anything, you didn’t have to click it. You could have let it sit in your little inbox till the end of time. She’d mentioned that you might like this story is all. This person, the writer she linked you to, was well known and pretty good. The stories were, her words, one of a kind. It had been late, you’d already been tucked up in bed and unable to sleep. The blue light from your phone was doing very little to help with the whole getting to sleep thing, but really, it’s Friday night. No harm, no foul.

Your bedroom was the perfect temperature, your blankets were the perfect weight over your body. Everything was soft and cocoon-like, the ideal place to hide from the world while you read something you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t. More fanfiction.

The first story was twelve chapters and you devoured them. Your new friend had been right. The story was brilliant. If you hadn’t known better this could have been another unpublished book, albeit shorter than Supernatural books usually are. There had been a vivid interaction between Sam and Dean finishing each other's sentences that felt bone-chillingly real. Probably because you’d seen the real them do the exact same thing in front of you a few days ago.

Well written fanfiction is not the issue. Nor is the fact that you’re reading fanfiction at all. The crazy, unbelievable part came down to four familiar words.

Little did she know.

If you remembered anything it was those words. They had haunted what nightmares you’d had since you heard them a week ago. Those words were the reason you jumped easier at every sound or movement.

Then you’d read them on the screen. Little had that character known that she wouldn't make it past the week. Alone those words weren’t irrefutable proof, not enough to convict anyway, the rest of the story might be. The way it was written. It was like you could hear the words in your head again, a different song sung in the same voice. An echo of what you heard most days since that first Friday in May.

Only when you get to the end do you dare to even think your suspicions.

There’s no way. It’s impossible.

The clock at the top of your phone tells you it’s nearly one o’clock in the morning now. You hadn’t devoured that first story as quickly as you thought. Maybe you’re tired. That’s what was causing this delirium. Tiredness was sending you further and into the realms of crazy. Crazier than the voice or the Winchesters or the fact that a shapeshifter is killing people.

It’s beyond deranged. It’s insane, it’s… it’s… unbelievable.

Your life, what you’ve been hearing, it can’t be just that; a story. It’s supposed to be in your head. Sure, everything you'd heard had been strung together like a book but it’s not actually being told. It’s something in you, broken, you needed an MRI. Or a therapist. You read too much, that’s all. You have too many books in your memory.

It would be easy to turn your phone off now. One a.m. That’s sleeping time. Your eyelids are heavy and it’s a struggle to keep them open.

But you click the link that says Masterlist anyway and see a post for something in progress at the top of the page. Till Death Do Us Part.

The synopsis alone makes your throat dry and your heart stop.

Y/N spends her days on paperwork and procedure. In the worst days of people’s lives, she is the full stop at the end of the sentence. When a loved one is lost, she replaces the irreplaceable; by completing the insurance claim. Her work sits on the outskirts of tragedy, far away enough that she pretends to have a normal life. But when she discovers two men attempting to steal her job out from under her? Everything changes.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Gravity has forced you deeper into your pillow to the point where you couldn’t get up, couldn’t move, if your house caught fire around you. It’s a comfortable prison but you’re still trapped all the same, which only leaves scrolling, clicking, and reading as your options.

Yet your thumb is slow. It’s the only part of you that can move but you can’t bring yourself to do it too quickly. You suddenly can’t sleep either and indecision starts eating at you.

It might be an hour before you click on the first link—chapter one—it might be thirty seconds. The chapter eventually loads and when you do start skimming the words something steals the air from your lungs. A single line stands out to you, black letters on a white background that will haunt you for the rest of your short life.

This is a story about Y/N Y/L/N.

The early morning sun starts to leak through the gap in your curtains, sending a slither of light into the room. It slices over your bed, your arms still holding your phone and your face.  It's not particularly bright but it's enough to inform you that you haven't slept yet and you paw at your cheeks to wipe the tears from them.

Six chapters out of ten. There are six chapters online for anyone to read. Every facet of your life. There’s so much more than the words you'd heard in your already. Entire sections where the real you deviated from the path, because the you that is being written about has no idea what’s coming. She has no idea that she’s going to die. Or that you both are.

When you’d first heard that you’d run home in a panic but in the story you never did. You sat at your desk and worked mindlessly, made small talk with Harry about his weekend plans. You’d carried on living.

The invasion of your privacy is not the reason for the tear tracks blotting your face though. No, you'd cried for two reasons. Frustration had been what made your chin wobble and your eyes sting. What you were reading is what knocked your resistance enough to feel the wetness on your cheeks.

It's poetic. The irony of this character only learning to really live in her final days, without knowing it's her final days. The foreshadowing and tragedy perfectly  littered throughout. You may think you're better off knowing except what did you actually know? The only thing you know is the same thing everyone on the planet knows; death is coming. Yours is sooner than you'd like, sure, but you still had no idea what was coming at all.

You're not a crier, not pretty prose alone, but this isn't a character. It's you. The implication of sad, wasted days were your choices, your time, your shell of an existence.

You wouldn't have even thought your life was that ordinary until you'd read that it was.

So, you'd read. Over and over again as if you can will the ending to appear by memorizing whatever has already been posted. Sleeping was second hand to re-reading. You'd thought back to everything before this and your love of a good mystery, convincing yourself that you alone could find the clues. That’s where the key to solving this was. Hidden to anyone else but you.

Now you know every word; the good, the bad, and the ones you already heard in your head. There’s nothing. No glaringly obvious tips or hints anyway. Nothing that makes you sit up dramatically because of a fact only you know about yourself. Then again—you're reminded by the promise of an update soon—it’s still in progress.

The answer hits you between your eyes.

This story is in progress. It’s not a product of your mind anymore, it's being written by a human being. Although you have no idea how you are hearing it, or how she’s controlling you. Or if she brought you into existence like a monster from the books. There's still hope. She’s a person typing on a keyboard.

People can be stopped. Keyboards can be smashed. Stories can go unfinished.

You click back to her main profile and see her name. Emma. Your author has a name now, all the better to find her.

Emma. Iowa. That doesn't narrow it down much further. The only other slightly identifying piece of information on her profile is her age.

There's one thing Emma has gotten right in everything she's written so far, you have changed. Imminent death will do that to a person. Old you would have given up, let defeat win out. Luckily you're not that person anymore.

Not everyone is as honest as you would like when it comes to insurance. Sometimes you need to treat things like fraud because they are fraud, so you already have a friend who has dug up information for you in the past. With a lot less to go on.

Hi Stan,

It's been a while but I was hoping you had time to check something out for me. I'm looking for an Emma, 34, Iowa. I also have a link to her blog below. I know it's a long shot but if I can get a phone number, address, anything. You'd be doing me a huge favor. Are normal fees ok? Let me know if you're busy or if anyone else can do this for me.

Thanks,

Y/N

The email is brief but once your phone makes that tiny woosh sound to signify it's sent you feel comforted. A small semblance of relief wraps you up like the blanket you still have tucked under your arms. For the first time, you're not blindly trying things and hoping to solve the problem. You may not know how this is happening but you're being proactive with the facts you have. If your off the books P.I friend can actually find this woman then you may have an honest to God shot at preventing your own death. You might even get her out of your head to boot.

You check the time again, even though it's six a.m. you're finally tired enough to close your eyes.

Continue to Chapter 7.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23   Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson @starsandmidnightblue​

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Finding Hope

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’ve known for many years you don’t have a soulmate. One day everything you know changes when all of a sudden you do.

You weren’t expecting it. You had spent your entire life knowing you did not have a soulmate. Where you friends and family had an instant connection to their other half at the age of 13, you had nothing. A deafening silence where a world of thoughts, feelings and desires should have been. This had upset you as a child, because it made you different. This upset as an adult, because you understood what it meant. Silence equals death. At some point your soulmate died. You had grieved him and mourned the life you would never have. Then you forced yourself to move on.

That was what you thought anyway, you were not expecting the wave that hit you one summer day. It was like a bullet to your brain. One minute you are going about your day the next you are in agony on the floor. The waves of emotion hitting you are deep, solid and terrifying. Your head has always been quiet and suddenly panic, confusion, anger, terror and a multitude of others are hitting you like bricks. Those around you are on their knees trying to contain your thrashing, but you are too bewildered and scared to even acknowledge them. Eventually, you pass out from the pain and the overwhelming thoughts rushing through your head. The darkness is comforting.

 When you wake up you can feel them, a soft hum where there had been a deafening roar. You heave a sigh and gently prod the mind with your own. Confusion claims you.

 You are suddenly overwhelmed with a deep sadness and you can’t understand what is happening. Where has this man been your entire life? You throw your covers from your body and swing your legs over the side of your bed and grab your head as it swims with your movements. 

You feel guilt wrack your body and it takes several moments to realize that like you can feel him, he can feel you. He’s sorry… You do your best to collect thoughts of forgiveness and send his way, but you honestly have no idea how this works. 

It’s a few days of sending feelings back and forth between one another when a news article catches your attention. Captain America is alive by some miracle. You read the story, having missed it on the news, and are shocked when the date catches your attention. The very date your soulmate had appeared in your mind. Suddenly things begin to make sense. That constant state of confusion that he seems to live in, the sorrow that permeates his mind and loss that cuts through even the happiest of moments.

 Your Soulmate is Steve Rogers.

 Your Soulmate is Captain America. 

The revelation is unbelievable, so at first you just don’t believe it. Surely there is some other explanation? Maybe he just wasn’t in range up until now?

It takes several weeks for you to gather the courage to even begin to think about what you need to do to potentially find your soulmate. However, with each day you can feel his feelings of frustrations, loneliness and sorrow grow. You do as much research as you can and then book a flight to New York City. Everyone you know is bewildered at your new strange behavior and very confused at your obsession with Captain America. You couldn’t tell them though. What if he isn’t yours? Wouldn’t it make more sense for his Soulmate to be back in his time? The 1950s? You just didn’t want to get their hopes up. They had watched you struggle with your loneliness your entire life and you couldn’t give them hope. Even if you had hope again, you suddenly feel like you have a shot at the life you never thought you would… If your heart broke again, so be it, but you needed to know. 

Upon arriving in New York you have no idea where to go or what to do… 

‘Maybe fate will do me a solid and help me find him after all of the torture it’s put me through my entire life,’ you think to yourself as you see a diner off to the side and walk in. You’re tired, hungry and overwhelmed. You can feel the worry of your soulmate prod at your mind and you try to be reassuring.

 You find a table in the diner and sit down before grabbing a menu. You are skimming over the choices when you hear an audible sigh from the counter to your right. You are shocked to see among the 1950s memorabilia, Captain America himself. You freeze and shock shoots through you. You watch in amazement as he stiffens before you can feel him prodding you. He’s concerned. You get up and walk over to the counter and sit down beside him. You keep your gaze on him and when he glances over at you he stops suddenly. 

Suddenly, you understand what it’s like to have a soulmate. Instantly, you both know who the other is. The loneliness you fought is quiet and almost forgotten with the myriad of feelings that overwhelm you. 

“It’s you…�� he whispers. 

You smile and nod as tears come to your eyes. He smiles as well, the disbelief evident as he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“Hi… I’m Steve Rogers… your soulmate.” 

You can’t say words as you gasp out a sob and throw yourself into his arms. He doesn’t resist, just pulls you closer to him and the two of you sit in the diner wrapped around one another. When the two of you realize what you’ve just done, you quietly pull away from one another embarrassed. He offers you the chair next to him and you sit down. You notice that in your embarrassment you can’t look at him whereas he can’t stop looking at you. 

“What’s your name, Ma’am?” he asks in soft wonderment. 

“It’s (Y/N)... I’m glad I found you… I didn’t know if I would be able to.”

“Find me? You knew I was your soulmate?”

“All my life my head has just been quiet… It’s been a little lonely. I had just accepted that I would be alone... I figured that my soulmate died as a young child before our connection formed. Then a few weeks ago my head just burst to life… And you were there… When I heard that Captain America was back and the date of you waking up coincided with me suddenly having a soulmate… I just… put two and two together.”

He nods deep in thought for a moment, a pensive look on his handsome face. 

 “So you came all the way here to find me? In New York?”

“It seems foolish in retrospect…”

“NO! I’m glad you came… I’m glad that we…” he reaches out and puts a hand on top of yours, “found each other…”

You gaze into his eyes and smile softly back at him. A deep sense of peace encompasses your body and you can’t help just enjoying being in his company. Suddenly, that sense of peace that your friends feel, you understand perfectly. 

The two of you sit and talk for hours over coffee and desserts. “You must be exhausted from your trip here and I’ve kept you talking in a diner. Do you want to go to your hotel? I can take you there of course! Unless you want to go by yourself, I understand if you need your space.”

“Can you take me? I would like to shower and get changed, then maybe we could...talk… a little more?”

He happily agrees and pays the tab, absolutely refusing to allow you to put any money down at all. He hesitates for only a moment before he takes your hand in his and leads you outside to his motorcycle parked outside. 

“I didn’t take you for the dangerous type Mr. Red White and Blue…” you say with a wink. 

He grins at you, “And why not?”

“Hmm… I don’t know… You always seemed so… noble?”

He takes a step towards you and his hands come to rest naturally on your waist, and his voice drops to a low murmur, “You don’t become a hero by following orders.”

You feel a shiver go up your spine before your hands come to rest on his chest, “That’s good… For a moment I was afraid I had a boring soulmate.”

He chuckles before he pulls away and gets onto the bike before he helps you on behind him. Your backpack with all your things making it a little awkward. The backpack you had to practically pry out of Steve’s fingers in order to carry yourself. You weren’t really used to anyone helping you with things. 

When you arrive at your hotel Steve frowns at it, “I don’t like that you’re staying here alone…”

“What? It’s a nice place!” 

“It’s… not that… I could probably get you a room at the tower… I would like it better if you were close to me…”

It suddenly hit who your Soulmate actually is. A superhero. A legend. A celebrity. The implications that you could not be safe is not lost on you. 

Steve pulls a phone out of his pocket and looks down at it hopelessly. 

“Do you…?”

He looks up at you with his brows furrowed adorably before he holds the phone out to you with a sigh. 

You giggle as you take it from him and step closer to him. “If you want to make a call, you just tap the little icon that looks like a phone.”

“In my day we used actual phones…” he grumbles. 

You turn towards him and peck his cheek taking him off guard, “It’ll get better. Now who do you need to call?”

He tells you the name of his contact at the Tower and you scroll through his contacts until you find them. You tap their name and hand him the phone back. He holds the phone up to his ear and begins to speak into it. His arm comes around behind you and he pulls you towards him as a large group of men walk by. Instead of removing his arms from you, he leaves it there and you love how safe you feel in his arms. 

It takes only a moment for him to explain the situation and inform you that you will be staying in the tower with him. You don’t argue and the two of you head to the Tower so that you can freshen up and change. 

When you walk into the tower you are amazed. There are windows lining the outer wall and everything is high tech. The best of the best and that which isn’t even on the market yet. You gaze in wonder at the stainless steel and the modern decor. It has an odd atmosphere, which takes you a moment to understand. You are a photographer and you are used to colors and textures, everything here feels static and robotic.

 “This is nice…”

“You don’t sound impressed.”

“It’s just very… stale.”

He chuckles, “Yeah…. It’s not very homey…”

You hum in agreement as you follow him up the stairs to your room. You can’t believe that you will be sleeping in this Tower tonight. 

“Well I appreciate it anyway…”

He pauses and you almost bump into him making you stumble a little on the stairs. He reaches out and catches you before you stumble and steadies you.

“It will be nice to have a friendly face around here, even if it is just for a few days,” he murmurs as he gazes into your eyes. You feel his loneliness hit you like a freight train in that moment. You’ve always prided yourself on your independence and promised yourself you would never uproot your life for a man. However… Steve lost his life the day that plane crashed. He may be alive but he woke up with no one to call family or friend in a time that may as well be a whole other world.

  “Well… perhaps it can be longer than that… I mean we are supposed to be made for each other right? I’m sure I could find opportunities here.”

He gazes at you for a few moments in wide eyed wonder, “You don’t have…”

“Maybe I just want to…Maybe we both need each other in ways we don’t even know yet…”

He tries to hide his smile by looking down and avoiding your eyes. “That would be nice then… It would be nice to have… you here with me.”

“Does that mean we’re going to do the old fashioned dating thing?”

He smirks at you, “Have you ever been swing dancing?”

“I’ve never even been dancing…”

His mouth drops open and his eyes widen in shock, “Never been dancing?! Well we’re just going to have to fix that!”

You laugh, “I guess we are.” 

That night when he took you dancing, you’ve never felt more at home than you did in his arms. 

It took me forever to write this! I liked how I ended it though! I think it was quite cute!! Comment and tell me what you thought!

Taglist: @moli1497 @crist1216 @emmateskey @fandom-princess-forevermore

[femalechibiblogger]

My 15 Favorite Isekai Manga

1. That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime

Satoru Mikami is an ordinary 37 year old corporate worker living in Tokyo. He is almost content with his monotonous life, despite the fact that he doesn't have a girlfriend. During a casual encounter with his colleague, an assailant pops out of nowhere and stabs him. While succumbing to his injuries, a mysterious voice echoes in his mind and recites a series of commands which he could not make sense of.

After regaining consciousness, Satoru discovers that he has been reincarnated as a Slime in an unfamiliar world. At the same time, he also acquires new-found skills, particularly the ability called "Predator," which allows him to devour anything and mimic its appearance and skills. He stumbles upon Veldora, a Catastrophe-level 'Storm Dragon', who was sealed for 300 years for reducing a town to ashes. Feeling sorry for him, Satoru befriends the dragon, promising to help him in destroying the seal. In return, Veldora bestows upon him the name Rimuru Tempest, to grant him divine protection.

Now free from his stale past life, Rimuru embarks on a quest to prove his worth. As he starts to get used to his current physique, word of his weird accomplishments start to spread like wildfire across the world, changing his fate completely.

2. The Scholar’s Reincarnation 

A martial artist, claiming himself to be a “murderer” is defeated by a suicide attack in battle and is reborn as a first born child to a local lord. Having a fresh start, a warm family and a little sister to protect – he decides to become a better person in his new life.

3. Tensei Kizoku no Isekai Boukenroku ~Jichou wo Shiranai Kamigami no Shito~

Shiina Kazuya, our protagonist who got killed by a stranger when he tried to protect his childhood friend and little sister, reincarnated into Cain Von Silford as the third son in the world of sword and magic. Cain grew up being surrounded by Gods who doesn’t know self-esteem, the upper noble and the girls who are swayed around him. Being given so many protection from the gods, He overcame any obstacle (aka Flags) while hiding his unbelievable status. The noble path fantasy story of a young boy who sometimes wicked and clumsy.

4. They Say I Was Born A King’s Daughter

After spending most of her youth fielding the attention of countless wealthy suitors, Suhee Kim finally finds true love with a steady boyfriend named Jinsu Han. But then tragedy strikes, and Suhee is murdered in cold blood. To Suhee’s surprise, she is immediately reincarnated as a baby girl named Sanghee Kim, who just so happens to be a princess! Plus, she is fully conscious of her past life. 

There’s just one problem: In this society, women are seen as totally inferior, even princesses. Appalled by the treatment of women, Sanghee is determined to change the kingdom’s patriarchal ways. Will Sanghee be able to succeed, or will she be stuck living her second life being treated as a lowly woman?

5. Parallel World Pharmacy

A young pharmacologist and researcher in Japan died from overworking, and was reincarnated in a Medieval Parallel Europe. He was reincarnated as a 10-year-old apprentice to a famous Royal Court pharmacist, had attained an inhuman skills of ability to see through disease, material creation, and material destruction. In a society in which dubious medical practice are rampant, price gouging thru the monopoly of the pharmacist guild, and good medicine aren't available to the commoners. He was recognized by the Emperor at that time and opened a Pharmacy at the corner of the town. He will wipe out the fraud that has swept the world, and deliver to the commoners a truly effective medicine that was developed using present day pharmacology. Thus the boy pharmacist will cheat by using his previous knowledge to create innovative medicines while helping the people of the parallel world, a story about living his new life to the fullest this time.

6. I Am A Child Of This House

“Pink Eyes” has always lived a relatively normal (?) life, with two exceptions: first, she has gained memories of her previous life as Seo Young, and second, she is someone’s illegitimate daughter in I Am a Child of This House Manga.

One day however, when she turns 11 years old, her prostitute mother takes her to the empire’s sole duke and claims her as his child. Although he seems to not believe her, he nevertheless buys “Pink Eyes” for 20,000 gold. With that, her new life as “Estelle” starts.

But what truly awaits her? And is she really a child of this house?

7. Daughter of the Emperor

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the center of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

8. The Cute Little Granny Hinata-chan

Worldly knowledge and artistic refinement! Hinata-chan is on a completely different level to your average toddler. But she has a secret... that she's the reincarnation of an 88 year old grandma, with her memories intact! Enjoying green tea on the veranda, a taste for pickles, and an old-fashioned dialect! Why has she been reincarnated? A comedy full of old-wives wisdom.

9. Isekai de Mofumofu Nadenade Suru Tame ni Ganbattemasu

After various things happened, I got an ability from God and reincarnated to another world! While being watched over by my high-spec family, the super ordinary me fully enjoyed other world life. Using the ability I received from God, I had a daily life of just fluffing and petting fantasy animals. There are some shady movements too, but while being led by the nose by God, I’ll do my best at various things with my cheat-like comrades!

10. In Another World, I’m Called: The Black Healer

One day, 22-year-old Kanzaki Misuzu is suddenly transported to a strange world. Based on the pop-up screens she can access, it seems she's entered some kind of RPG as a magic user! Luckily, she can use the gaming skills she acquired as an otaku to make her way in this new world. But before she knows it, people start calling her "the Black Healer"!!

11. The Youngest Princess

The archmage who ruled over a magic kingdom. One day, she was reborn as the youngest daughter of the empire! “I’ll just play along and pretend to be a baby. ...But don’t you think you guys like me a little too much?” They won’t leave her alone. The youngest princess is tired today as well.

12. Freeter ga Jimini Isekai Teni suru 

Meet Tanaka. He’s a 26-year-old freeter - a guy who makes his living on various part-time jobs. He works in warehouses, directs traffic, and generally does whatever work he can find in order to get paid. However, recently Tanaka has had a problem. He occasionally is transported into another world, usually in front of people who need help. Knowing nothing, can Tanaka add another part-time job to his repertoire?

13. The Small Sage Will Try Her Best In The Different World From Lv.1!

Kujo Yuuri, who had been playing Elysia Online, finally changed her occupation to the sage of her desire. Then, she was asked whether to go to the true Elyasia or not and selected [Yes], and somehow went to another world. Furthermore, she became a small child.

The small sage Yuuri and her companions’ love and adventure fantasy.

14. Beauty and the Beasts

As soon as she fell into the world of beast men, a leopard forcibly took her back to his home. Indeed, Bai Jingjing is at a complete and utter loss. The males in this world are all handsome beyond compare, while the women are all so horrid that even the gods shudder at their sight. As a first-rate girl from the modern world (she's even a quarter Russian), Bai Jingjing finds herself sitting at the center of a harem filled with beautiful men -- at the very peak of existence.

15. The Beast and His Pet High School Girl

On the way home from school, Kashiwagi Aki is kidnapped and finds herself in a world populated entirely by beastmen. She ends up in a pet store where the overzealous and impulsive wolfman Zinovy becomes infatuated with her and buys her on sight. Thus begins their strange and chaotic, albeit incredibly cute life.

[too-many-baes]

To Hell and Back

Pairing: fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Warning(s): Injury, death, going to hell, angsssst (but some fluff to make up for it), slight AU, S03-S06

Word Count: 5.2K

Request: Hi! Love your writing! Could you do a dean x fem!reader where she’s Bobby’s daughter, they’ve been dating forever and she went to hell to save the boys. It was a surprise to the boys but she saw it coming so she wrote a note to Dean that he should not try to get her back and go have a normal life with Lisa. Eventually she gets back (somehow - maybe Bobby or Sam or Cas figure something out) and Dean really is with Lisa. You can choose the end - I’d love some fluff. I hope it’s not too specific. - by Anon

A/N: So I played with the timelines here a bit so it may not be exactly what you had envisioned but I hope you enjoy it none-the-less! Thank you for sending in a request!! Masterlist in my bio and requests are open

gif is not mine, credit to [@ jamiedornaniseverything ]

                                                       *********

You sit at the tired old table in your house of Singer’s Auto, you and the Winchesters. None of you make a sound, your collective focus makes speaking unnecessary.

Words begin to bleed into an incoherent mess so you rub your tired eyes in an attempt to revive your vision. Bobby has long since retired for the night, you and the boys persisting.

This has been your position for several weeks. Day in and day out, you can feel your blood cells slowly turning into caffeine in your attempts to keep yourself alert, the rest of the household living in the same coffee induced delirium. None of you felt you could rest until you found the solution you were so desperately searching for, an answer to your prayers.

One single week is all that's left between Dean and hell hounds claiming his soul. You've seen it happen before, the tearing of flesh and anguished cries are not something you'd wish upon anyone, making you all the more desperate to save your boyfriend from that wretched fate. Here you are and here you'll stay until you figure out how to save him. You know if you don't fix this soon it will lead to Sam doing something drastic, and that's not something you can stand for either.

You've known the boys since you were young. Being Bobby Singer's daughter meant if someone was a hunter then your paths had definitely crossed, with the Winchesters your house had always been a revolving door. You were indifferent to the boys when you were young, it wasn't until you were a teenager that you took notice of Dean, much to your father’s initial disappointment. He loved the Winchesters as if they were his own sons but that didn't change the fact he didn't think anyone was good enough for you. Not even the charming, well-meaning Dean Winchester.

The shock of finding out you were dating the eldest of the boys passed eventually and after strict words from your dad you’ve been inseparable since. You've been through thick and thin together, you know everything there is to know about him. This means you know how much the brothers mean to each other and just how far they'll go to ensure the others safety.

You can't see them die for each other, you don't care how many sleepless nights it'll take.

You have successfully claimed Sam's usual role, being the first one to rise and the last to bed. You hadn't even noticed they'd gone to bed when a tapping on your shoulder pulled you out of your trance.

“It’s 2am babe, it'll still be there in the morning.” You look up at Dean's face. His usually bright eyes have lost their signature shine, the lines underneath mountainous, his hair mussed from the few hours of sleep he'd already managed to get.

“I'll be there in a minute.” You answer him with a quick dismissive smile. Dean has other ideas, reaching over and forcibly closing the book cover you couldn’t remove yourself from.

“You need your sleep.” You could have argued, but what would be the point? In a few minutes you would’ve ended up asleep on the pages anyway. You allow Dean to lead you by the hand down the hallway to your room, where you clumsily change before crawling in beside his almost already sleeping form. In his half there state he instinctually reaches out to circle his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

Typically you and Dean weren't really cuddler's, but after finding out your days together could be numbered that changed. Now every night you sleep something like this, as close as possible, not wanting to waste your precious moments alone. He mumbles a barely audible ‘I love you’ before his faint snores rumble on your neck.

“I love you too.” You say it to yourself, knowing he was past hearing. You love him more than you thought you'd ever love a man, it was because of that the seed of an idea you'd read weeks ago had been sprouting ever since. You know what has to be done to save him and his brother, despite how much they won’t like it.

***

“They’re coming!” Sam’s frantic yells sound from the front door where he makes his best attempt at holding it closed from the ferocious hounds that claw and leap at its weakening wood.

“Everyone get in the living room!” The three of you run into the salt barricaded room, swiftly followed by Sam. No sooner had he left his post than the doors were flown off their hinges and angry growls could be heard by everyone in the room.

“Can you see ‘em?” Bobby's unusually tentative voice questions, a curt nod from Dean swiftly answers his question.

“There's two of them. There.” He raises his arm to point at the seemingly empty space before them, fear causing his arm to shake and his voice to lose volume.

You take in a grounding breath, assured within yourself you were making the right decision. You spin around to face your father, doing your best to not succumb to the overwhelming emotions pounding in your chest. “I love you dad.” It was rare for you and your father to exchange verbal ‘I love you's’, your love for one another going unspoken usually.

“What are you doing?” His question is gruff and urgent, immediately knowing something was wrong.

“Dean”, you ignore your father and grab the aforementioned by the shoulders, forcing his frantic eyes onto your face, “I love you. Never forget that.”

“Y/N what-" He had no time to finish his sentence, the salt guarding the door blowing away as the sound of growling creeps closer. You push your sleeve up revealing a series of symbols drawn on your skin.

Before the men in the room can process your actions you've unsheathed a knife and cut a long slash along your palm, pressing it against your forearm. The growling ceases momentarily, a false sense of hope for your companions.

“They're gone. I can't see them any more.” The hope that had crept into Dean's eyes vanished when once again snarling growls filled the room.

“What's happening, I thought you said you couldn't see them Dean?” Sam yells in dismay.

“I can”, you manage to croak out as you stare at two creatures more gnarled than anything your nightmares could conjure. If you weren't positive that you'd already earnt yourself a way one ticket downstairs then the black magic you'd found to redirect the hell hounds had solidified your fate.

The men were now frenzied, yelling and screaming for you to run as they scrambled for weapons they knew would do no good. For once you did as instructed. You turned away from the hounds and bolted out of the front door. As you'd planned the beasts were on your heels, they'd have you in their clutches within minutes. As the adrenaline courses through your veins you push yourself to go faster, to get far enough down the road that your demise would be away from the eyes of a room full of people you love.

A series of claws slash across you calf sending you crashing unceremoniously onto the dirt road beneath you. You turn to face your death head on, all teeth, drool, and crimson eyes.

“Y/N!” No. No, you don't want them to see this.

“Leave, please!” Your sentence ends with an agonising howl as claws and teeth set upon you. The pain is unbelievable, hot and searing, making the deafening chorus of cries and pleads from the witnesses to your chosen fate obsolete. Death didn't last as long as you had thought and the life in your eyes had faded as the three voices continue to call out for you.

Bobby is the first one to reach your now lifeless body. He shakes your shoulders, lightly at first, then harder with every time his saying your name goes unanswered. Dean falls to his knees on your unoccupied side, grabbing your limp hand and desperately clinging it in his own as tears fall down his face. Sam stays standing, but barely. None of the men speak, the cruel turn of fate that took you from them stealing away their words.

Dean opens his bedroom door, the emptiness without you there consuming his thoughts. As the usually terse man fights back yet more tears an envelope on his otherwise empty nightstand caught his eye. He hurriedly tears it open when he recognises his name in your handwriting.

Dean,

This is going to be short and sweet, just ‘cause I'm gone doesn't mean I'm about to get sappy.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my plan, you would've stopped me if I had. This was the only option, in time you'll come to see that.

I know you had no time to prepare yourself but I have to ask something of you, my dying wish if you will.

Be happy. That girl Lisa, from Indiana? Go to her. She needs someone, so do you. I reckon that makes you perfect for each other.

Don’t waste your second chance pining over me, I'm gone and I intend to stay that way. Don’t try to bring me back.

I died happy so you could live happy.

Don't let me down Cherry Pie.

Forever yours,

Y/N Singer

As soon as he saw his name on that first line the tears begun to stream down his face. By the end of the letter he was inconsolable, his hands shaking and drops from his eyes blurring some of the words on the page. He quickly dabs away the dots from the page, not wanting to permanently lose any letter from the last token you’d left behind for him.

You had written you’d wanted him to move on, he would do his best. Not tonight, hell not any of the coming nights. They would be reserved for you and only you. Dean was going to drink so much he cried whiskey. He was going to spend every waking hour thinking of you and nothing but. Then, when his eyes finally dried and he could muster the courage to step foot out of the house, that’s when he’d follow your wishes.

***

Flesh burning. Skin cutting. Teeth being removed and hair being torn from your scalp. It’s all you knew, all you thought you’d be resigned to know. Then all of a sudden it was gone, you were there one minute and it was black the next.

You lurch forward, clutching your chest and furiously sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle. You look around, seeing that you have no idea where you are other than in the middle of a wheat field. You know well enough to know that this isn’t some trick of the devil. No, something, somehow has put you back on earth. The thought crosses your mind Dean could have been the culprit, but you dread what something like this would have costed.

As you stand you feel something burning your side, lifting your shirt to find a raised hand print just below your ribs.

“Y/N.” The unfamiliar, gruff voice behind you causes you to jerk your body around, seeing a man in a trench coat with a blue tie.

“Who are you? What am I doing here?”

“My name is Castiel, I’m a friend of the Winchesters.” He needn’t bother answering your second question, hearing he knew Dean and Sam caused your wild thoughts to snap to his attention.

“Are they okay?” It was the only thing you could think to ask, your frazzled head still processing being above ground.

“They’re okay, here” he holds out his hand to you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I’ll take you to them.” You can’t see a car anywhere near you and you’re completely unsure how he intends to get you to the men as you, for some inexplicable reason, reach out and grab his hand.

For the second time in your very short time on solid ground you’re left dizzy and breathless as you find you are once again not where you were before. This time though your surroundings are familiar, causing a happy gasp to leave your mouth and your hands to shoot up and cover it.

You’re back at the only place you’ve ever called home, Singer’s Auto.

“Y/N?” Sam’s all too familiar voice sounds from the kitchen, a smile stretching infinitely across your face as the taller Winchester rushes to wrap his arms around you while desperately calling for Bobby to join you in the living room. You exchange happy, disbelieving words as Bobby makes his entrance.

“What are you yelling about idjit, I was busy-Y/N.” His sentence falls short when he sees his presumed dead daughter. Sam has only ever seen Bobby cry once before, that awful night they’d lost you, but now as he races to hold his daughter he thought he’d never see again his tears glisten under the yellow light of the cheap bulb.

“Hey dad.” You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, overjoyed and overwhelmed by this strange turn of events.

“Castiel”, Sam questions as you finally release your father from your grip, “what did you do?”

“Actually just while we’re asking questions, what exactly are you?” No human man could have pulled you from hell and taken you to the auto shop and since you were fairly certain this man was no demon you were stumped.

“I’m an angel of the lord and I got you out of hell.” You look around the room trying to pick whether it was Sam or your father who had made some kind of deal but the lack of guilt and knowing on their faces tells that neither one had plotted to raise you from the fiery pits.

“Neither of you did this?” The shaking of their heads confirms your deductions. “Goddamn it, Dean”, you mutter.

“He played no part, it was just me.” Castiel’s statement shocks you.

“Why? I don’t know you, why would you do that?”

“Dean hasn’t been hunting for years and somethings come up we need his help with. We need Dean’s help and they refused to do anything about it. I knew my presence wouldn’t be enough to get him back and I recalled him speaking of you fondly and thought you would be able to help.”

“How could you Cas?” Sam speaks in irritation with the angel. “Dean got out, he deserves to stay out.”

“He did?” The bickering stops when you speak your hopeful question. “Dean got out?” Sam nods, an almost nostalgic look on his face.

“Yea Y/N, Dean got out.” You smile along with him, your chest lightening at the knowledge that the stubborn man had paid attention to the letter you left. As you think your smile wavers when you register something is Cas’ prior sentence. “Hang on Castiel, did you say he hasn’t hunted in years?” You let out a small humourless laugh, “How long have I been in hell?” The men previously in your life struggle to find words to say, so the angel who you’re learning is rather bad with social cues speaks.

“Three and a half years I believe.” Three and a half years. Time feels endless down in the pit, never-ending but entirely still at the same time. Five minutes or fifty years could have passed and you’d have been none the wiser, but being back now after three years? Dean was out and happy, you didn’t want to jeopardise that.

“How selfish can you be?” You bite at your angel acquaintance.

“Y/N, he was only trying to help.”

“No dad, I don’t care what he was trying to do!” You yell at your well-meaning father, “He doesn’t even know me and he brought me back to get Dean back into the hunting life? You may as well put me back in the ground ‘cause I’m not doing it.”

“That’s enough!” Bobby’s raised voice makes every pair of eyes land on him, his looking directly at you. “He may not have done it for the right reasons but you’re back, and that can only be a good thing, do not argue with me”, he adds as you open your mouth to object, letting it fall back shut at his request. “I never thought I’d see you again, so quit whining.” You can’t help but laugh seeing that the years have done nothing to change your dad’s temperament.

“It’s good to see you too”, you tease, lightening the mood of the room.

***

It’s been a fortnight, a whole two weeks above ground and you’re still getting used to it. You made everyone swear that they would not mention to Dean you were back and instructed Castiel he’d have to find another ploy to get him to help.

You were happy Dean was happy, yet despite the fact you’d made everyone swear to keep your existence a secret you couldn’t help putting that all at risk. You had to see him, to see for yourself the Dean that wasn’t a hunter. You wanted to see that cheeky grin and those entrancing green eyes that used to make your heart skip a beat. You wanted to see him out and happy.

So here you are, inconspicuously parked outside his house for the third morning in a row in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him. So far you had seen Lisa and her son Ben previous mornings, but no sign of Dean.

The front door opens and your mouth dries up with what walks out. It’s Dean in the flesh, still flannel clad and handsome as ever. He walks hand in hand with Lisa as Ben trudges behind them. He pecks her lightly on the lips before she and the kid get in the car, Dean giving them a small wave. No amount of happiness for him could have stopped the pang of jealousy you felt at seeing Dean in his apple pie life that you weren’t fortunate enough to be in.

Yes, he’s living the exact life you’d told him to live, but when you’d written that letter you planned on not being around to see it. You shake your head at your stupidity and selfishness in coming here and you turn the key in the ignition ready to drive off. You’ve indulged yourself more than enough, watching any longer would just cause you unnecessary pain.

You allow yourself one last lingering look at what used to be your man before you pull away to find his eyes surveying your parked car from across the street, your heart leaping into your throat at the danger of getting caught. You tug your baseball cap further down your face before pulling out and speeding away, all notion of stealth lost.

“Shit, shit, shit”, you curse to yourself for your idiocy. Any longer and he may have recognised you, then what? You’d cry, you’d hug, and you’d get back together? You’d ask him to leave the family you asked him to start in the first place? No. You couldn’t put him through that.

Back at the motel you pack your bags, resolute to go back home. You had no idea what you’d do once you were there, you figured you’d start hunting again, help Sammy. After today though you’d leave Dean behind you, once and for all.

A rapping on the door halts your footsteps, freezing your hands from closing your bag.

“Hello?” Shit. That’s Dean, what is he doing outside your room? He repeats himself once more before you hear the distinct sound of him trying to pick your lock. You move fast, thankful for the fact that you’d kept the room’s curtain shut as you desperately search for a way out on the other side. He’s quicker than you though, the door flying open and a gun cocking sounding behind you.

“Hands up, don’t move.” You follow his orders, hands raising above your head. “Turn around.” You don’t want him to see your face, opting to shake your head instead of reveal yourself to him. “I’m the one with a gun pointing at you so if you wanna stay alive I’d turn around.” You know he’s not lying, having seen people call his bluff too many times before. You comply but as slowly as possible, shuffling your feet until you finally face him, keeping your head down in the vain attempt the small action would keep his recollection at bay.

“Y/N?” His question sounds unsure but you know the inevitable has happened, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“Surprise?” You say, turning your hands upwards to gesture shrugging your shoulders. He holsters his gun immediately, never taking his eyes off of your form. You don’t know what to do next as marked by your silence, and his next move you cannot fathom.

“How did you get here?”

“You have your winged pal to thank for that.”

“Castiel?” The stunned tone of his voice shows you he’s as confused as you were by the whole thing.

“How’d you find me here Dean?” You question after a long pause.

“You weren’t exactly subtle at my house this morning.” The normalcy of the conversation you’re having sets you on edge, not wanting to sink into familiar habits of jokes and jabs, afraid of what that could lead to.

“I better go, it was good to see you.” You state abruptly as you awkwardly grab your bag and make to walk past him and out the front door. His strong hand around your forearm prevents you from leaving.

“What just like that you’re going to walk out the door?” You answer his incredulous question with a nod of your head and a perplexed look in your eyes. He shakes his head reaching and grabbing your other forearm so you are locked in front of his frame. “So what, I don’t get to say goodbye and now you won’t let me again?” There’s no malice to be heard, his voice soft and fragile. This does nothing to stop the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

“Dean it wasn’t like that-”

“No Y/N it’s exactly like that.” He lets the silence speak for itself before continuing. “I lost you with no notice, now you’re back with no notice. You can’t just up and leave again.” You were trying to be fair to him and stay unnoticed, now that you’ve been caught you know he’s right, you can’t just simply leave him again with no warning. He suggests you get a bite to eat, to which you instead offer going to a bar which he gladly accepts.

He insists you drive together, you suspect he was afraid if you went separately you may have driven off. You get a table at the closest bar which happens to be nearly completely empty, as to be expected midday in the middle of the week. Dean gets you a beer each, placing yours in front of you as he sits on the other side of the table.

What you thought would be a brief awkward catch up was anything but. Beer after beer is consumed as he regales stories of being a father figure, making your sides split when he recounts a particular story of trying to get in the good books of the PTA. You gave a very brief explanation of your time downstairs, leaving out pretty much every significant detail to save Dean from the guilt you know he’d project on himself. The whole time it feels like you never left. Every time your eyes catch it gets harder to look away and the light brushes of his fingers as he passes you another bottle sends shivers running up your spine.

After a particularly boisterous fit of laughter dies down you offer to get another round. Just as you go to stand Dean’s phone ringing on the table with the name ‘Lisa’ on the screen stops you.

“Hey. No sorry ran into an old friend, I won’t be too much longer. Mhmm, you too.” He speaks with large pauses in between and although you couldn’t hear the whole conversation you heard enough to bring reality back into your view.

“I should let you get back Dean.”

“What? C’mon you were just about to get another round”, he light-heartedly argues to which you shake your head.

“I should hit the road now anyway, otherwise it’ll be too dark.” Your numerous late nights on the road together makes your excuse a weak one. He complies with a dejected nod regardless, pulling out his keys. The drive is quiet, the low hum of classic rock filling the car. He reaches your motel and you thank him for the day as you unbuckle your safety belt, your other hand already reaching for the door. He reaches out and grabs your closest hand, bringing your eyes down to the small gesture.

“Don’t go.” He voice is small, weak. Words you would usually never associate with your Dean. You let out a breathy scoff at his request.

“Why not Dean, what would I do? You’re happy here with your family-”

“Hey you told me to do that.” His grip on your hand tightens slightly with the raising of his voice in defence of himself.

“I know”, you say gently to acknowledge his rebuttal, “I know I did and I meant. I’m not going to take that away from you now.” You meet his juniper eyes but do not linger in worry of them weakening your resolve. You click the handle open, lightly pushing the door and letting the now cool breeze drift past your face.

“If you hadn’t been taken from me I wouldn’t have chosen this life.” His tone is imploring, almost pleading with you.

“So enjoy it now you have it.” You release the handle so you can lean in enough to cup his cheek and look into those magnificent eyes. “You’re out. Stay out.” His hand moves to rest upon the one on his cheek, his eyes glassy as they look at you. As one last little goodbye you lean in and delicately place a lingering kiss on his free cheek. “Goodbye Cherry Pie.” With your whispered words you pull away, exiting the car and shutting the door without looking back, for one more glance and you’d have never left.

***

A quiet week has gone by at Singer’s, you’ve spent as much time with your father and Sam as possible, still in dubiety at the fact you get to be around them again rather than meat hooks and flames. You’ve convinced Sam to take you on at Scrabble, telling him not to take it easy on you just because you’re out of practise.

“Quaky? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh and what’s that, is it on a double word tile, I think it is.” You say in mock doubt as you laugh along with your incredulous opponent.

“Three years and you can still kick my ass.” He says in jest as he reluctantly adds to your tally. As the two of you jokingly bicker the sound of an unfamiliar car pulling into the gravel driveway makes your giggles cease and your eyes to peer sceptically out the kitchen window. A door opens and closes followed by rapid footsteps to the door and then Dean is before you once more.

“Dean?” Sam questions, as confused as you at his brothers sudden appearance.

“Heya Sammy.” He greets briefly before his eyes snap to you, “Y/N we need to talk.” His urgency leaves no room for debate. You shoot Sam a look before you rise and follow Dean as he leads the way to what used to be your shared room, now occupied solely by you.

“Is everything okay?” You tentatively ask as he shuts the door behind him.

“I left Lisa”, he blurts out.

“You- what? No, why would you do that?” You can hardly keep the disappointment from your voice despite how much your heart is now bouncing excitedly in your ribcage.

“I couldn’t stay there, not after seeing you.” Your excited heart quells, replaced by the overpowering guilt that your selfishness has caused Dean to leave everything you wished for him behind. You shake your head, not allowing yourself to believe you could be the cause of Dean abandoning all you ever wanted for him.

“You’ve got to back. Beg her to take you back, say you hit your head and you had a concussion, anything.” You walk to him as you speak to show your intent.

“Do you know why I can’t go back?” He answers his own question by reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet, from whence he pulls a folded up, dirty looking piece of paper that he places in your hand. Your suspicions at the content are confirmed when you unfold it to see your own handwriting staring back at you.

“I kept that on me every day. Every time I doubted myself I would pull it out and read it, you wanna know why? Your words were the reason I stayed. I care for Lisa, but you’re back. I don’t want that life if you’re here.” Tears spring into your eyes, some falling down and blurring some words you noticed are already muddied. He abruptly pulls the piece of paper from your grasp, crumpling it up and throwing it aside without a care where it lands.

He removes the insignificant space between you, encircling his steadfast arms around your waist and pulling you into the embrace he could tell you desperately needed. Out of instinct your arms join behind his neck, gripping like if you let go he’d disappear.

“What about Lisa? It’s not fair for her.” You chide regretfully in his ear.

“What about what’s fair for you?” He asserts. “You spent three years in hell so I didn’t have to, you don’t have to think about what’s fair for anyone but yourself right now.”

You pull your face out of the crook of his neck and collide your lips on his, melting into the long lost but not forgotten feeling of his tender lips gliding against yours. You pull away, breathless at obtaining the sensation you’d been craving since setting eyes upon him again. You smile up at him, a smile eager and happy like a child in a candy shop.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You respond to his poking question by latching your lips to his once more as you jump and encircle your legs around his waist.

You head down and help Dean unpack his car, every time you pass him his hand would pinch at your side or cheekily tap your ass. You could barely contain your excitement at putting his belongings back into their respective places, completely eradicating the empty feeling that was in the room before. The blame you feel about Lisa still niggled at the back of your mind but Dean’s words from earlier assure your guilty conscience.

You’ve paid your dues, and the Winchester with the jade eyes and wicked grin was your reward.

                                                     *************

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