#everyone elses' height is from back when they were not broken. :|

[lovifie]

Hormones

When you suddenly find yourself thirsting over your LT!Simon that on any normal day you have to restrain yourself from throwing a chair at.

Enemies to lovers | Fluff | smut | 895 words Next Part

It's been a couple of months since you started working with the Task Force 141, an awesome force of men that save the world while the world sleeps.

The same way Soap and Gaz are, you are a sergeant. Not yet included in the task force officially, but still being asked to tag along to some missions.

It's been great! The sergeant's quickly become like childhood friends, the captain took you under his wing like one more of the team, Laswell is euphoric there is another woman and the lieutenant… Well, he's there.

It's not that you would expect him to give you special treatment, THE Ghost from Task Force 141. You are not a nosy person, but c’mon, it's Ghost! Who hasn't heard of him?

In the military world, it was the closest to meeting a celebrity. You were not expecting him to fall head over heels for you, but you were still a bit taken back when the first thing he said to you was:

“The fuck you looking at? Want a pat on the back for making it here without shitting yourself in the process? Get the fuck out of my face, go bother somebody else.”

You were not expecting a kiss on the forehead, but shit, a “Good morning” would have been enough.

Still, as time went on, the interactions between the LT and you remained just as bad. At the end, you stopped trying to talk to him, and just asked the sergeants or the Captain.

Except that bothered him too, like a stubborn toddler.

“Now you are too great to speak to your immediate superior? Need to go cry to the Captain like a brat? Make sure not to wet your nappies, soldier.”

And honestly, what's his fucking problem?

As a sergeant, you are proud to admit you have a wide range of skills and abilities, one of them being your patience to not absolutely destroy all the idiots that you have come across in your life. But honestly, you can feel it run thin as time goes by.

Even the captain had to jump to your rescue on more than one occasion, when Simon attack was completely uncalled for or he got a bit too hurtful.

But unlike your lieutenant, you remain professional. Listening to your captain, getting along with your sargeants and completely ignoring your lieutenant.

Until today.

The summer weather, great when sunbathing, not great when the AC is broken and you get stuffed in a room without windows for a debriefing with the team.

It's Ghost's turn to talk, standing to his full heights, when he finally takes off his jacket. And your eyes follow the movement, and then they just… stay there.

The tablet he is using looks like a smartphone on his hand, digits so thick you wonder how he manages to get them on the weapons triggers. The tendons of his hands moved under the skin as he adjusts his hold of the electronic.

And you follow the line, taking in the tattoo sleeve on his left arm, trying to decipher what they are supposed to be, some damaged with scars, others seems so old the ink got blurry, but still you can tell the way his muscles move under them.

Such a big arm, you know he could lift you with ease. Shit, he could lift everyone in the room. His biceps must be the size of your head, and he seems so unbothered by it, like it is not incredible the way he is built.

He switched his weight from one leg to the other, and your eyes traveled to his hips and waist. A waist that looks small, not that it is, there is nothing small about this man, but the sheer size of his shoulders in contrast makes his waist look small. His shoulders and his back, wide enough that it makes you wonder how he can enter through the door at base. He must enter sideways, there is no other way.

His hips called you again, making your eyes travel down your body, until they set between his legs. The bulge in there makes you feel offended, of course the idiot would be packing even when soft. How dare he?

Would he be a grower or a shower? Cause if he is a grower and this is the soft stage, you wonder how he doesn't get tangled.

You wouldn't mind getting tangled, you think, biting your lip.

Wait.

WAIT.

WHY ARE YOU THIRSTING FOR HIM?!

You look at the front, standing straight, and come face to face with Soap; who is perfectly aware of hour hatred towards hour LT is now looking at you like you just grew a second head on your shoulder. For a moment you don't know who looks more confused with your actions.

A silly thought goes through your head, and you pull your phone out, opening your period track app. And as you guessed, you were right. You show your screen to Soap and as he read: “Prediction: Ovulation. High risk of getting pregnant.” He burst out laughing making you chuckle as well as you shake your head.

Maybe, if you wouldn't have been so engrossed in your imagination, you could have noticed the way Ghost was stuttering while speaking, in ecstasy he finally managed to get a reaction out of you.

[ivybucky]

lightning in a bottle - logan howlett x reader

mutant!reader nearly harms the team in a moment of panic and feels unable to deal with the aftermath, but logan is there to bring you back in more ways than one

a/n: i have so many ideas besties... currently have a list of 5 fic ideas and this is the first one I was able to flush out. here's some angst with happy ending for ya (no smut)

content: angst with happy ending, lots of electricity(literally), mentions of torture and screaming, mentions of mutant experimentation, implications of shitty birth family, confession of feelings, reader crying, sad reader, angry/sad logan

words: 2329

~~~~~

All you could think about was the lightning. 

You remember walking into the room, where the footage of your torture was displaying blatantly across the TV news cycle, the team sitting there and watching with rapt attention. “Mutant Experimentation Footage Leaked” scrolled across the screen. You remember the static tingling in your fingertips as you recognized what you were watching. Your own cries echoed from the speakers as footage of Stryker’s experimentation on you from a month prior when you had been captured is played to the nation. 

“Turn it off,” you had said quietly, pleadingly. The team’s gaze snaps to your silhouette in the door frame. Their eyes held sorrow, and something else that you did not want to see. 

“Y/N-” Storm had started to speak, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“Turn it off, now,” you’d said, clenched fists at your side as the panic began to swell, small flares of electricity flaring around your knuckles. Memories of the torture, the agony, the hatred came rushing back all at one and your eyes couldn’t leave the screen as it continuously replayed it. 

As the feeling heightening, electricity cracked in the air. Your eyes lit up, a bright purple gleam taking over. There was too much silence in the room, the sounds of your screams playing in a loop like a broken record as the news team played the footage over and over. Finally, someone broke it. “Y/N,” Logan had spoken up, an odd, unfamiliar tone in his voice. Good god, was that pity?

“What?” You had snapped, finally looking away from the footage and making eye contact with the team, with Logan, and you understood it wasn’t pity you heard in his voice, but a form of fear. Your anger slowly dissipated as you took in the state of the room - everyone in that room (who wasn’t bald) had hair floating up into the air, falling under the influence of the clouded electricity that filled the ceiling, just as one is before they get struck by lightning. 

And gods above you had almost struck them. 

Your fists fell lax at your sides, realization of the height of your emotions, the loss of control taking over your features. “I-” you stuttered, unsure how to apologize for the pain you nearly inflicted. “I-I’m sorry.”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, no one said a word. It wasn’t the first time you had lost control, but it was the first time any of them were in danger because of it. Everyone stood like statues, watching you with bated breath, as if you were one nudge away from electrocuting the masses. You turned and fled the room, quickly striding back to your room to inevitably lock yourself in. It was the only place you felt like you could be and not hurt anyone.

Hours had passed since, but you couldn’t shake the look on their faces, the pure fright they showed, caused by you. Decidedly, that wouldn’t happen again - you wouldn’t allow it, in any capacity. Would they always fear you now? Could you manage to stay surrounded by people you loved, but knew there would always be a limit to how far their love for you went? Could you withstand the constant pins and needles your family would walk on around you, again?

It was that thought that had you hurriedly shuffling through your closet to find the duffle bag you had lugged over your shoulder when you were originally picked up by X-Men. It was crumbled into a wrinkled ball on the top shelf, thought to no longer have any use. 

You paced around the room, picking up the things you knew you couldn’t leave without. The students can go through my clothes, you thought with some sort of sad acceptance. Though, that didn’t keep you from packing some of the staples. The school logo printed on a t-shirt, an old sweatshirt that was singed from a fire fight in your first mission with the rest of the team, a stolen old flannel that smelt like smoke and whiskey-

“Where are you going, sweetheart?” You look up almost startled at Logan standing at the door to your bedroom, now cracked wide open. Logan… You’d nearly forgotten about the worst part - leaving him behind.

He leans against the door frame with a confused expression, arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows before turning back to the half-full duffle bag that sat on the foot of your bed. You knew you couldn’t look at him when you spoke again. 

“I’m leaving,” you nearly mutter and you stuff more clothes into the bag. You can feel your eyes getting hot, and try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” he asks, his own brows furrowing. “Leaving for a mission?”

Your movements paused. You could tell the truth, but the reality was that he would try to stop you. And even if nothing had come out of the tension that hung between the two of you, you knew you would give in. 

“Yeah,” you swallowed as you lied. “Just a quick one, some intel gathering. I’m leaving sometime tomorrow morning.”

There was a brief pause, like Logan was trying to get a read on how truthful you were being. “Maybe I should come with you,” he says. “For backup, just in case.”

You clench your eyes shut - of course, he thought you needed to be accompanied. “I’ll be fine on my own,” your hands slow their movements as you place the last item in the bag, a gray zip up hoodie Logan had given you once. Were you saying that to reassure him, or yourself? You lied through your teeth like it was painful, as if the act of clenching your jaw so hard would break your bones and your will. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was another pause, and you were sure he was going to call your bluff, but he just clicked his tongue. “Well alright,” he said gruffly, almost dejectedly. His hand fiddled with the door frame for a moment hesitantly. “You know that if you need-“

“I know,” you interrupted, turning to give him a tight smile. “I know.” He gave a saddened half smile before nodding and walking away. 

The space he once occupied at the door was empty now, but for a moment you stared at as if he was still there, as if he was still trying to comfort you even when he didn’t know how. 

An errant tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your face for a moment before you snapped back into reality, wiping the tear away quickly with the heel of your hand. You aggressively zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, eager to leave before anyone, mainly Charles, got an idea of your plan. 

With the click of the front door, and the clap of a thunderstorm on the dark horizon, you were gone. 

As Logan left your room, he externally winced at his inability to provide comfort - to you of all fucking people - as if the non-action hurt him. The pain on your face seeped into the air and into his adamantium bones, as if it was transferable through the longing gazes and secretly honeyed words. 

He hung his head and he slowly walked further down the hall, a part of him hoping he would hear your door creak open and hear you call out his name. Instead, he was met with the faint sniffles of a teary nose that only his heightened hearing could pick up, a scuffle of fabric being shoved tightly into the duffle that was then harshly zipped shut with a shuddering sigh.

He turned the corner to retreat to his room before he could hear any more, deciding to join the mission the next morning anyways. 

The following morning, Logan made his way to Charles, unexpecting wanting to make his intentions to follow her known to someone. He entered the room, Charles already staring directly at him with a face one could only describe as similar to an omniscient god.

“Logan,” Charles spoke, somewhat resigned. “She doesn’t have a mission.”

Logan paused in his step with a furrowed brow. “What are you talking about? She said she was leaving this morning.”

“I did not give her one,” he confirms. “I have a feeling-”

Logan cut him off before the professor could continue. His jaw was clenched tight as he spoke the words. “She left.”

A tense silence took over the room, Charles watching Logan with a straight, yet dissecting gaze. Logan broke eye contact and looked away momentarily as he felt his heart sink to his stomach for the first time in decades. 

Finally, he looked back to Charles with a determined glare. “Where is she?”

The side of the professor’s mouth twitches up. 

—-

It only took two days for Logan to reach you. Charles was able to track your location easily as soon as he was asked. It took nothing for Logan to take the bike and peel out of the upstate town. Now, he stood in the rain staring at the shitty side-of-the-road motel with a simmering glare. 

His mind floated despondently in the air above him, completely unattached from his body as it stomped its way up the stairs and down the hall to your room. His fist banged on the door loudly, uncaring of its stability under his metal skeleton. His heightened exhaustion and emotions tethered him enough to not let his head fly too far away from him, but the reality was that he hadn’t slept since you left and the only words he spoke were to himself as he practiced what he would say to get you to return.

But then, the door swung open. His mind snapped back to his body as soon as he saw your face, but the pleas he had planned to beg left him just as quick. 

“You lied to me,” he growled, he accused, standing in the open door, his hands resting up on the door frame. The rain continued to pour just past the motel covering, evidence of its duration linger in the form of wet tracks down his leather jacket, the dampness of his hair, the drops that stuck to his face. 

“Logan-”

“You lied to me, Y/N,” he repeated, a new kind of angry heat simmering in his eyes. “You were not leaving for a mission.”

You take another deep breath. “‘M leaving for good,” you utter softly, your hands trembling slightly at the first out loud admission of what you had planned to do. You circled the back in the room, putting the cheap mattress in between you as some sort of barrier. The duffle bag he saw you packing days ago sat mockingly between you both. 

“Come on, what the fuck? ‘Leaving for good’?” He asks incredulously, taking a step forward and letting his arms drop to his sides. “You were going to leave the mansion, just like that?”

You stare at the duffle’s opening, having only reached that motel hours ago, not long enough to unpack the only remaining items you had. “I can’t stay, Logan,” you say softly, not moving to look at him. “No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it, I can’t control me. Even Charles doesn’t know what to do with me, I-I had to leave, it’ll be better for everyone.”

“No,” he says defiantly, moving cautiously closer around the side of the bed. “Not everyone.”

The tears welled in your eyes at his words, unable to stop them from falling and you crossed your arms in front of you protectively, the tear-stained cuffs of the hoodie, his hoodie, pushed up your forearms. “Why are you here, Logan?”

“Why am I- are you stupid?” He scoffed, causing you to flinch at his harshness. “I’m here to bring you back. You’re not leaving the school, you’re not leaving me alone-”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, with tears streaming down your face as you shake your head. He can feel his heart break at the side of your distress. “None of you do. I nearly struck all of you the other day, just because I got emotional. I almost hurt you, and that’s the last thing you need, Logan.”

Logan quickly moves closer to stand in front of you and cups your cheeks, bringing your wet eyes to his. “Don’t you get it,” he says with a strained, rough voice. His thumbs sweep gently under your eyes to brush away the tears. “You are the only thing I need. Fuck everything and everyone else.”

Your hands come up to hold onto his wrist, keeping his hands exactly where they are on your face. “Logan-” you stutter as you search his eyes almost hopefully. “What are you saying?”

There’s a brief silence in between your soft sniffles and the sound of the rain on the other side of the motel door. When Logan speaks again, it is deliberate, and it’s what he wanted to say all along. “I’m saying I am nothing without you, sweetheart,” he urges, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. “I was nothing before you, and I know that if you leave now, I’ll be nothing all over again. Not a single person in that school wants you to leave, me especially.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in time with the hopeful clenching of your heart, forcing tears out as you do so. You rest your forehead against Logan’s as he continues. “Please,” he nearly whispers, his nose bumping against yours. “Come home with me and turn nothing into something again.”

You nodded against him and spoke a wet “okay” before pressing your lips, finally, against his. And, just as you had predicted you would several nights ago, you gave in. 

_____

a/n: quickly posting this bc if i keep staring at it i'll never post it pls tell me how i did :D logan smut comin soon, pls like, comment, reblog

[reiderwriter]

Smutty part two of the hand to hand combat fic plz

A/N: Your wish is my command! I think a lot of people were frustrated at where I left the first part off lol, so here's a special treat for everyone who lowkey hated me after that lmao. Enjoy! 18+ MINORS DNI Also it is a crime that there aren't more gifs of Spencer wet, I have used most of them ㅠㅠ

You can read the first part here!

Warnings: shower sex, fingering, suggestive washing idk, Intercrural sex (he fucks the gap between her thighs for a while), no contraception, PinV sex, slight cum play? I guess?

You can also find my masterlist here, and if you enjoy my 18+ works, I'm partaking in kinktober, and you can find out about all of my plans here :]

As you washed off the day's sweat, standing in the shower rooms of the FBI gym, you cursed the gods above for making you such a coward. 

If you'd been bolder during your sparring session with Spencer, you could've ended the day in a much more pleasurable way, or you'd at least have the memory of whatever you'd do to aid your fantasies. You thought back to your humbling defeats of earlier that day. You really thought you could get the upper hand on Reid in at least one of your rounds, but no. He’d got the jump on you all three times, leaving you squirming under his touch on the mat as he enjoyed his defeats. 

The second-round had been close, having the initial upper-hand being in the assailant role, but he’d used his extra height to throw you off balance, pinning you to the ground from behind, his hands trapping yours against your lower back. You’d blushed at the compromising position, your ass raised suggestively, his bodyweight pushed on top of yours, crotch to your centre, as you tried stay calm despite the very thin materials of both of your work out gears that separated you. 

Not that you were complaining about the extra contact, but you weren’t beneath using it as an excuse for your loss. In your final round, he’d let you think you hand the upper hand for a second, teasing you about enjoying the view from your place above him, straddling his waist as you pinned him down. By that point, you were beyond horny, reaching near orgasmic levers of desperation to feel him push up into you, and he’d let you enjoy the feeling of your core grinding into him for a few minutes. Just long enough that no one else would notice that your movements weren’t simply struggles to keep him pinned. Then, he’d gone and ruined it by thrusting his hips up quickly and using the momentum and your shock to buck you off to the side, returning you to your earlier pinned pose. Despite the losses, you couldn’t really find much else to complain about other than the fact that you hadn’t kissed him right then and there, having not thrown caution to the wind. 

With each pulse of water from the shower head, you tried to clear your head, but he'd consumed your thoughts. You didn't think you wanted him this badly, but apparently one touch was all it took for you to become aware of the desire you had for him. You let your own hands trail between your legs as you decided to deal with your bodies pent up frustrations.

The door to the bathroom opened, though, just when you were about to get going and you had to pull your hand away as you called out to your new friend. 

"Pen? That you? God I'm so fucking sweaty from that work out." You laughed a little as you greeted her, but the other person didn't make any other noises, stopping dead in their tracks. 

"Y/N?" Somehow your blood ran cold as your body heated up. 

"Spencer? What are you…?" You whipped your head around to get a look at him over the glass shower stall door, pulling your hands over your chest, reflexively. 

"Morgan said the men's showers were broken, and he was heading home to shower. But I can't sit for that long on the subway without getting rid of all this sweat. He said there'd be no one else in here since we stayed so late…. I can… I can leave if you need me to?" 

"No! No, it's okay, it's not like we're using the same shower or anything, and I don't want you to feel so… Uncomfortable." 

He thanked you, then slipped into a stall a three away from your own, as you tried your best not to watch the flex of his arms as he firmly gripped his towel around himself. 

Turning back to your own shower, you decided you needed to speed it up, actually get on with it so you could escape this awkward, tempting situation. You were almost sure this was some kind of divine punishment. You lathered up your hair and began to massage your head when the water suddenly ran so cold it burned. 

"Ah, shit," you whimpered out as you ran from the water as quickly as possible. 

"Um, Spencer?" 

"Y-Yeah," he responded, having heard your moans and immediately perked his head up. 

"Your shower stall, it's the second from the door right?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Shit, I should've mentioned something," you ran a hand through your hair as you turned off your shower. "That one doesn't work too well, when you use hot water in that one for some reason, it makes the rest of these showers run cold for the rest of the day." 

"Oh, I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't realise." 

"No, it's good, I guess it's just cold shower time for me now." You sighed in a huff of annoyance, and turned your shower back on. 

"Do you… Do you want to come and use this one? My water's still hot and the cold water really won't be good for relaxing your muscles after all that work." 

"With you?" Your eyes meet his over the walls of your shower stall and you try not to sound too eager. Maybe this could be your chance after being such an idiot earlier. 

"Yeah, I guess. I still need to, you know, wash up?" 

You nodded at him then, and began collecting your things, your towels in your hands covering your sensitive areas, but only just as you stepped into his space.

He pressed himself against one of the walls as you entered, doing his best to cover his cock with his hands, but failing pretty miserably. You shot a single look down there, hoping he didn't notice. He was hard, and God did you want to help him out. 

But unsure of how to broach the topic, you ignored it and put your things down, before turning in to face the shower. A little sign of contentment fell over you as you felt the heat against your skin again, body relaxing as you began washing off your hair once again. 

You felt him move until he was a shadow at your back, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

"Y/N, let me help you clean your back. I don't want you to flare up that arm injury, and you're not reaching that well." 

"What?" Ill advisedly, you turn to face him. His eyes trail over your body, landing on the swell of your chest as you stand only millimeters from touching. Gently dragging his eyes back up, he repeats his plea, and turns you around, grabbing your body wash.

"Trust me, I'll help." But you know this isn't going to do any good easing the tension in your body, his hands on you being as distracting as they were. You almost jusmo a little when his bare hands finally come down on your waist. 

"S-Spencer I have a loofah!" You almost moan out as he begins to rub circles into your skin with his fingers spread. He's closer now, and with his hands out of the way. You can feel his cock, bare against your ass, twitching as you realise he's getting a lot of pleasure out of this. 

"Do you know how much bacteria can live on one of those things? You wanted to get clean, right?" It's all you can do not to buck back into him as he releases the words, hands coming up to your shoulders as he works his strength into your skin. His hands feel so good against you, that you barely notice them slipping around your front, as he begins to work on the plains of your stomach as well.

You throw your head back against his chest in pleasure as he slips higher and higher, hands eventually cupping your breasts as he slowly lathers them up, taking his time to feel every single inch of your skin. You whimper in your pleasure, and you hear his heavy breathing similarly pick up. 

"Spencer…" You don't know what your words are asking, begging for, but it's clear he does, as his hands spread. One goes up to your neck, wrapping around you tightly as you gasp out a breath, the other washing hanging in the air as he rids it of soap before trailing down between your legs. 

His fingers find your clit and you whimper. 

"That's it baby, I'm just gonna help you get clean, okay? Gonna make you feel good, too." You nod at his words, giving him the silent confirmation he needs to press his cock in between your thighs and start rubbing it up against you, not yet pushing it in. You're pushing your ass back into him now as he starts to fuck the folds of your sweet cunt, writhing in pleasure everytime his tip catches on your hole, pleasure rolling off your tongue in waves. 

His hand on your neck keeps you from gaining volume, keeping you grounded as he gets you close to that euphoric bliss. You're desperate to actually feel him inside you though, squirming in the hopes that one of his thrusts will accidentally land on target. 

"Spencer, please…" You know what you want now, and you're desperate for him to listen, as you turn your head to the side, grabbing the back of his own as you pull him down for a sloppy kiss. His hips still as he falls into the kiss, tongue dragging over your lips and begging for entrance. His hand stays on your clit though, and within a few more rubs you feel yourself twitch in his arms, fully held up by his hand on your neck. 

"Spencer, please, need you…" 

"Are you sure, Y/N? This is still a public bathroom, and I don't want you to think you have to do anything just bec-" You cut him off with another kiss, and that's all he needs before he's pressing you back into the shower stall, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing his cock inside of you. 

You pulled his lips down to yours again and again, desperate to taste him, shower abandoned behind you. His pace picked up and soon he was slamming into you, with the full force of his body, the weight that had earlier been used to pin you down now being used to pleasure you to the fullest. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, letting his eyes fall to the place where your two bodies met, his grunts filling the space as you tried your best to bite your tongue. You knew that if you let yourself be as loud as you could've been in that moment, someone would definitely notice. 

"Just like that, Spencer, fuck, just like that." Your hips bucked wildly against his as he pulled your other leg up and around him, holding you fully off the ground as he continued his movements. 

You gripped his back, letting your nails find any purchase they could, dragging scratches down his skin, marking him as yours. You didn't feel so bad about the pain you must've been dealing him though, not when his hands were leaving red handprints on your hips from his tight grip, the sharp discomfort only fuelling your passion. 

"Spence, I'm… Fuck I'm close." Your head slumped into his neck. 

"Cum for my, Y/N, need to feel you clench around my cock." He grunted, and somehow your body listened to his demands perfectly, spilling over the edge with his next thrust. 

He moaned out quickly, lowering your legs to the floor, still holding you up, as he pulled out and stroked his cock a few more times. His white release painted both of your stomachs with his climax, and you fell against each other in your bliss, trying to both gain back your normal heart rate and calm your breath. 

"Spencer, I think we need to get back in the shower," you smiled up at him, and dragged him back over to it as he flushed, not finding the words needed to apologise for his mess. 

You pulled him in for a kiss under the water and mentally thanked Morgan for putting you through hell that day. He pulled away from you to attempt to talk, but you didn't want to let him. 

"You know," he started, but you tried to shut him up again, wanting desperately to feel his lips right back on yours. 

"Y/N, please," he laughed pulling your head away from him as you whined out childishly. 

"You know, Morgan was lying about us needing to do this physical thing." Your eyes bulged at the confession, as you tried to stammer out a reply. 

"What? I… What?" 

"He pulled the same act a year or so ago, too. Y/N, Penelope is never in the field, she doesn't have to do physical training, and we both have enough case hours to cover any further requirements." 

"So he… ThatThat son of a bitch." You muttered angrily to yourself as he ran a hand through your still damp hair, smiling down on you peacefully. 

"Wait, Spencer… If you knew that he was making this whole thing up, why did you go along with it?" 

"Needed an excuse." He pulled you in for another kiss, this one slow and languid, as you felt him twitch to life again at your thigh. 

"An excuse for what?" You moaned out as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving behind a trail of love bites you were sure would bloom into purple bruises, just another decoration for your neck alongside his handprint. 

"An excuse to touch you. You're very good at following professional boundaries, you know?" You laughed at him once more and let him pull you close into him again. It took you an extra hour to shower that day, but it was worth every second. 

[callsignserpent]

🇦🇹 König x Medic Reader Headcanons 🇦🇹

The whole ordeal was meant to start out innocently, believe it or not.

This giant boi had come walking into the medical bay after one particularly tough mission, sporting multiple lacerations across one arm and his face, along with a few bruises.

The way he'd sat there quietly as he waited for his turn, grumbling to himself in German, something about how he "doesn't need the hospital".

But when it was finally his turn and he'd seen you? Oh, this man was a goner, from the very beginning.

It was like a switch had been flicked, his whole demeanor changing in a snap.

Grumbling, stubborn 6'8" Austrian now becomes quiet, curiously observant patient.

"How did you get these?" you'd asked, gesturing to the cuts visible beneath the torn sections of his shirt.

"Die Mission verlief nicht gut", he'd simply responded in German, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You'd been with KorTac long enough to have picked up several fluent phrases here and there, so you sort of understood him. Kind of.

You'd told him you needed to clean the cuts and bruises, and like a good soldier, he'd sat there and taken it, only wincing once, when you'd gone to clean the cut along the edge of his jawline, visible beneath the torn, ragged section of his sniper hood.

"Es tut mir Leid..." you'd hastily apologized.

The utter look of shock that passed over König's face when he heard you speak his native tongue-!

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" he'd grunted, trying not to crack a smile, to which you'd nodded and held up a finger and thumb inches apart, indicating you spoke just a little.

He'd seemed almost thoughtfully quiet after that, sitting and watching you as you worked.

Once you were done, König had seemed almost.. disappointed? ...that the time had gone by too quickly.

You'd dismissed him quietly with a gentle smile, telling him he was welcome back any time if he needed something.

And you better believe this man took those words to heart, quite literally.

Because not even three days later, he was back again, this time for just a small series of scrapes he'd sustained along the backs of his knuckles, presumably from a tussle with someone else.

"Ich würde den anderen Kerl ungern sehen, ja?" you'd joked in broken German, upon which König had accidentally cracked a grin beneath his hood, before he'd corrected himself.

"Your German is getting better, maus..." he'd answered, his tone unusually soft that day.

The answering blush in your face that little nickname had produced, that was a look König would picture several times in his head later that night.

From that point on, he would make it his mission to call you cute little nicknames like "maus", "liebling", "meine lieb"...

He'd also make it a point to try and find some excuse or another to see you throughout the week.

"Colonel, it's just mild allergies."

"Colonel, you're not bleeding, it's fine. Nein, you don't need stitches. Ja, I'm sure."

To which he'd insist "König. Und ja, it'll get better faster if you look at it, liebling, bitte?"

Everyone on KorTac's base eventually noticed how their Colonel had become a frequent flyer to the infirmary, their hushed whispers sometimes being overheard.

"Surely he can't be getting hurt that often?" "Is he clumsy, or is it on purpose?" "Maybe it's just bad luck...?"

Little did they all know, you were the real reason he kept showing up.

You yourself were sort of oblivious the first couple of times, until you eventually caught on.

König would even wait until your shift was done for the day, trying to appear casual as he leaned against the doorway to the infirmary, having to duck down a little due to his monstrous height.

Sometimes he'd bring you little gifts too, little things you could keep at your work station, or take back to barracks with you.

(The little stuffed brown bear dressed in a nurse's uniform was your pride and joy, always sat on display at your desk.)

On a more serious note, there was only ever one time he had scared the living shit out of you, when he had gotten really hurt.

A few of KorTac's best had been sent out on a mission, and König had been among them. When he'd gotten back, it was... bad.

You'd never seen so much blood in your life, and you weren't even sure half of it was actually his.

You'd spent that entire night (and the next) looking after him, surviving off coffee and pure adrenaline just to stay awake for him.

And when he'd finally opened his eyes a day later, even his badly torn sniper hood couldn't hide the soft grin that lit up this man's face.

"Mein liebling, sie sind hier?"

The light swat you'd given him, combined with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, his gaze would soften so fast.

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Kö..."

"Nein, meine kleine maus, Ich würde dich zu sehr vermissen." came his gentle reply.

From that point on, the two of you were nearly inseparable; wherever you went, he would follow, and vice versa.

It would eventually reach the point where if anyone would try and mess with you, they'd very quickly be warned not to fuck with "the Colonel's girl".

You'd rather liked the sound of that, perhaps a little more than you should.

Being König's favorite person, that wasn't so bad.. right?

💀 TAGLIST: @nixwolfe @konigsbeloved @konigsblog @konigslittleliebling @kghostly @konigsqueen @konig-brain-rot @your-booklover-gal @konig-breedme @konig-is-bbygrl @koenigsbleachedshirt

[olasketches]

I like Sukuna and Yuuji for the same reason as you! But you can tell me to back off if you don't agree with what I'll say next lol

To me Sukuna being reduced to a petty child is so interesting to me because I used to think of what lead him to take his place as the King of Curse and how it pushed humanity farther than him, as he was already not treated humanely. The same way, he say he doesn't feel anything but Yuuji keep pushing his buttons, something he end up recognizing no matter how boring he call Yuuji. Petty until the end too

As for Yuuji... Despite what the jujutsu world tried to drill into him, he found his way back and found value in life again, and that none of them were worthless. Even Sukuna. Even if he hate him

Because Yuuji applied his reasoning to everyone, Sukuna included. We all knew how Sukuna would react but I still really loved to see Yuuji put his values over his personal feelings

We are all aware of the flaws ect ect... But at the end I am happy I discovered and followed Jujutsu Kaisen.

Do you plan to try phantom parade too? And what do you think about Sukuna admitting defeat and the possibility to take another part

Seem like he took Yuji's "you don't have to take the role of the villain" to heart to me

sukuna is such a petty brat and I wouldn't want him any other way. I think the reason he hated on yuuji so much is because he reminded him too much of himself while also being nothing like him. yuuji and sukuna are two sides of the same coin. yuuji even said so himself “sukuna… you are me” 

during the shinjiku arc the fandom has been pointing out how yuuji was slowly morphing into sukuna or how yuuji is going to become another king of curses. and this could have very well been the case… if only yuuji didn’t have his grandpa. during both shibuya and shinjiku arc this boy has been battling his own demons and darkest instincts. when pushed to his limits yuuji turns into a cold blooded demon and we can clearly see that during his final confrontation with mahito and then over the course of his fight with sukuna.

 I’d argue that if he was rejected the way sukuna was he would’ve turned into something far more demonic than sukuna ever was (and that's a personal opinion) cause despite sharing a lot of similarities and having the same level of potential, yuuji is the one who’s the feeler between the two. he feels deeply and has an immense capacity for love but the same is true for other emotions too. that’s why I don’t like when the fandom downplays yuuji’s kindness and compassion as his default traits and think of them as his weakness that can be broken, exploited or corrupted. there is a reason why sukuna couldn't break yuuji no matter how much he tried (and oh boy… he DID try lol), because his compassion and kindness for others don't come from naiveness or because he doesn’t know any better. yuuji is kind because he actively chooses to be kind and his final moment of empathy and compassion towards sukuna, despite sukuna putting him through hell and back, is the biggest prove of that. 

yuuji is strong in ways sukuna couldn’t be and I think sukuna always knew this but never wanted to admit it or face it. even uraume admitted that yuuji has potential equal to sukuna's and uraume is like… THE BIGGEST sukuna glazer so for uraume to admit something like that means that this has always been the case. I believe that sukuna always knew that yuuji could be his equal. and the reason he kept denying it is because yuuji is nothing like sukuna.

yuuji has never felt rejected or resented by anyone in his childhood. his grandfather loved him and cared for him like he would for his own son. he taught yuuji his core values that he still holds onto till this day. sukuna never had anyone like that. people resented and persecuted him, which pushed him to grow stronger and reach heights no one else could. he wanted revenge to punish and curse those who rejected him first, because he was afraid his own curse would burn him from inside out. so when he came across yuuji, a boy just as strong, with the same potential and the same hair colour lol and realised he is still nothing like him that the only curse he’s burden with is sukuna himself… I think something must have snapped in him. I think that little cursed wretch got jealous. I mean how come this brat, this “weakling” who definitely doesn’t have the same potential as him could ever reach his heights and become as strong as sukuna if not stronger. how come he can be his equal when he’s just so… disgustingly human? it’s like some part of sukuna realised that yuuji is both strong and loved despite carrying a curse inside him, a curse he later realised he was also born with. 

I think that must have stung… knowing that due to some twist of fate, a guy that might as well be another version of him since he was made from the same soul as his… just had it better. that he didn’t have to become the strongest, a deity, a calamity to earn respect and receive love… because he had it from the start. 

so to answer to your question after my long and probably unnecessary rant lol I think the moment yuuji defeated sukuna and THEN offered him to live with him and accepted him even if the rest of the world might not, and despite putting yuuji through hell and later turning into a literal blob, meant more to sukuna than sukuna would ever be willing to admit. In that moment yuuji gave sukuna something no one else ever did - love and acceptance. I think this alone is what allowed sukuna to find peace in death. he may have lost everything, but in the end he was finally able to regain his humanity. I believe that’s why he decided to head north and start again. he died as a curse, but now he can be reborn as human, because in the end he was still loved…

and to be loved is to be changed. 

also right now I'm only enjoying phantom parade through other means (new illustrations and people who actually play it lol) since I’m not a gamer myself… but I still might stick around for a bit longer we’ll see :] 

thank you for your ask and hope to see you around too!! 

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐀

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: whenever summer comes around, especially when dahlias bloom, everything begins to remind you of your late lover

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader. sfw. angst. modern!au (could be read as canon tbh), character death mention (alhaitham), hurt/slight comfort, very bittersweet, previously established relationship, unresolved grief, reminiscing, heavy summer and flower themes 0.8k wc. masterlist | byf/dni

a/n: this is my submission for the @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday that we do every few weeks. this time the prompt was "goodbye, my summer love". as I deal with some personal grief rn, writing this was a nice way to cope, and doing a very angsty take was kind of fun. the title of this drabble was named after the perfume 'Midnight Dahlia' by Korres but the plot is my own

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Summer days were always long and languid.

Once, they felt like a letter from a lover, but now they remain a capsule of something lost. Alhaitham always said that when being bathed by the sun, time truly slowed down; if you listened carefully, you could hear the world hum under its breath. 

Alhaitham said a lot of things, which was ironic because back then, you and everyone who knew him, had always teased him for being the quieter type. 

But the truth was you never fully understood ‘quiet’ until he was gone.

It was during the height of summer when he’d bring you dahlias. With his endless knowledge of everything that lived and breathed, you quickly learned the meanings — purple for dignity, yellow for joy, white for purity. His mixed bundles were his way of telling you that, to him, you were all of the above.

Dignified. Joyful. Filled with the purest form of love. 

They weren’t always your favourite but over time, you had grown to love them because they reminded you of him. Since the day he left you, it took you longer than you wanted to admit to stop weeping every time you saw one.

Still, you made the effort to bring some home whenever they were in season. It was akin to pretending that he was not truly gone but just somewhere else for a while.

As the last day of summer transitioned, you sat on the porch, watching the sky deepen into the hours before dawn. The dahlias in the vase beside you were wilting, petals curling as if bracing for the inevitable chill of autumn. Your chest tightened, knowing what that meant.

People used hourglasses to measure time. You had flowers.

You brushed the fragile petals with your fingertips, and for a fleeting moment, you were taken to a time when your world was whole.

It was a late evening when you and Alhaitham sat in silence, surrounded by the last blooms of the season. He had been reading, and you simply watched him, content with the quietness. Amused, he rose from his spot to pluck a single dahlia from the garden and tucked it behind your ear. You were baffled, he noticed in your face, but you relaxed when you were met with his eyes. They were honest and made your skin grow hot. They were worth a room full of gold.

It had been years since Alhaitham passed. The grief dulled but it never left, lingering like a curse that could not be broken. You tried to move forward but summer always brought him back.

Something as simple as a stroll on the beach was enough to tug at your heart because the sand bore one less set of footprints, the warmth of the sun graced one less body, and sometimes when the sea breeze came, you felt the echo of his presence behind you as if you were still walking, hand in hand. 

But it was the dahlias that hurt the most. They mostly bloomed in the heat and every summer, they seemed to grow just for you, as if Alhaitham was sending them as a reminder. 

Closing your eyes, memories came flooding in like waves, threatening to pull you under into the past. You remembered how his hand brushed against you the day he made you his and your fingers involuntarily twitched at the thought. In his bedroom, the air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, and sunlight spilled lazy shadows onto the wooden floors through his sheer curtains. Your lips quivered because you never forgot how it made you feel when he leaned in and kissed you. You could still taste the sea salt on your lips.

Time stretched endlessly that day but time caught up with everyone, eventually.

You exhaled a shaky breath, your jaw was trembling.

Summer always ruined you.

Grief, no matter how much time passed, always weaved its way back in. Saying goodbye to him never felt final. He lingered in the corners of your heart, in warm afternoons, in the bloom of the dahlias.

When a cool breeze brought you back to the present, you felt the world shake. You opened your eyes just in time to see one of the petals lift from its stem and float away. It danced through the air, weightless and alone, waiting to disappear into the night. You watched it until it was out of sight, lost to the starless sky.

“Goodbye, Alhaitham,” you whispered. You even thought you smiled a little, too. 

For the first week of autumn, you returned to the porch, waiting for a hint of rain and watching for any sign of encroaching storm clouds. You breathed in and out. It was time for the axe to fall.

Goodbye, Alhaitham.

The dahlias will come again next summer, and with them, so would your memories of him. 

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

networks: @houseofsolisoccasum @nereidsrealm

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[peachhcs]

can we get any this from Sammy and Will at world I just need my broken heart to be fix for one moment

night out in prague

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a night off in the city leads to the usa men's team heading into the city for a much needed night out.

1.4k words

as promised, here is some of samy and will at worlds before they broke up because i said i would still write about their happy moments in between the sadness to get a small break from the angst :)

au masterlist

will's gaze stuck itself to samy as she walked towards him with a drunk smile spread across her lips. she wandered off towards the bar an hour ago taking shots with some of the girlfriends of the guys with will keeping a watchful eye on her a few tables away. he enjoyed seeing her get along so well with the others despite their age difference to some of the other players on the team.

the blonde forgot his conversation he was having as samy reached his side. he quickly smiled down at her, "hi."

"hi. miss anything exciting?" the girl wondered, tucking her head into will's shoulder since he was her height sitting in the booth.

"not really. enjoy your shots?" will chuckled lightly when samy eagerly nodded.

"so good. you should've done a round with us," the brunette always got more touchy whenever she got drunk. her fingers reached to will's curls to play with them and the action had the boy flushing.

he loved the feeling of samy's fingers in his hair, but being around everyone else while she did it was still something the boy was getting used to.

the other guys at the table hardly even noticed, but it still sent a blush across will's cheeks nonetheless.

"i'm hungry," samy mumbled as she leaned more into her boyfriend. his arm wrapped around her waist basically keeping her up against him.

"wanna leave soon?" will wondered.

"no, i'm okay. don't wanna pull you away," she hummed towards the guys still in their own conversation will stopped listening to.

"i don't mind. i was thinking about leaving soon anyway," the blonde said.

"are you sure?" samy never wanted to pull her boyfriend away if he wasn't ready to leave. she didn't mind hanging around longer as long as she probably started drinking water instead of more alcohol.

"yeah, i'm sure. don't worry," the hockey player beamed up at her. his smile was hard to ignore knowing he was being serious, so samy returned it.

"okay, as long as you're sure. i'll say bye to luke," the younger girl caught sight of her brother a few tables down.

the middle hughes saw his sister walking towards him, smiling a bit, "what's up little hughesy?" poor samy would never escape that nickname, especially whenever she was around her brothers since they were always "hughesy" before her.

"will and i are gonna leave. just wanted to let you know," the girl told the older boy.

"leaving already?" cole wondered from beside luke.

"yeah, i think those rounds of shots did me in," samy chuckled lightly.

"i can tell. your cheeks always get red whenever you have a lot of alcohol," luke quickly squeezed samy's cheeks which instantly made her pull back.

"shut up. you're the same," the girl poked her brother's flushed cheeks. he just rolled his eyes while the others laughed.

"have fun back at the hotel. don't be too loud," trevor teased earning an eye roll from samy and a gagging motion from luke.

"god, do not say that shit around me about my sister. gross. text me when you get back," luke shook his head in disgust.

"you're such a baby. see you," samy pinched her brother's arm before finding her way back to will who finished paying their tab.

"ready?" the blonde hooked his arm around samy's waist again. the girl nodded, so the two hurried out before anyone could stop them and drag them back in.

the city slowed down once night hit besides the few cabs driving through the streets and people wandering back home from the bars much like samy and will were doing. prague was so beautiful at night, too. the girl's gaze was glued to the buildings with incredible architecture that reached into the sky.

"i could stay here forever," samy mumbled.

"you and me both," will hummed, his hand going to intertwine with samy's

"do you ever wish you could stay in the countries you travel to forever?" the youngest hughes' gaze fell on her boyfriend. from the side he was stunning. his curls started growing back out after his last haircut and his entire face in general was just to die for.

"yeah, sometimes. i wish we'd get more time to explore," will's own gaze flicked across the impressive buildings and night sky.

"i don't know if i've said this, but i really like traveling with you. it's really fun and it's been super awesome cheering you and my brother on," samy felt will's hold tighten on her hand. he met her gaze with a smile, stopping them on the sidewalk for a moment.

"i'm really glad you're here. it means a lot that you came out and i hope we can continue doing this," the two exchanged warm smiles before their lips were on each other's seconds later.

will's told tightened on samy's hips as their kiss deepened. the streets of prague were practically empty, so the couple used that by their advantage to kiss under the starts as cheesy as it all sounded. samy's fingers tugged at the curls on the back of will's head making him kiss her even harder. they practically lost themselves in one another.

"you're so beautiful," will mumbled when they finally pulled apart for air.

"i love you," samy hummed earning a large smile from her boyfriend.

"i love you more," the blonde placed one more kiss to her lips before making them continue walking to the hotel.

the rest of their walk was spent in comfortable silence. the two gently swung their connected hands back and forth until reaching the hotel. the front desk nodded to them as will dug out his key card to take them to their floor.

once will kicked their door open, samy stumbled in. she tore her heels off, falling back onto the bed with a happy smile painting her lips. the blonde chuckled seeing her sprawled out across the bed, quickly plopping down beside her as the two began staring at the ceiling. 

"be honest with me. are you signing when we get back?" samy wondered because she saw the news headlines and all the circulation about will, gabe, and ryan possibly signing. the couple hadn't talked much about it since they lost the ncaa finals as will kept it pretty sparse around her and everyone else. 

because of samy's slightly intoxicated state, she didn't pick up on the hesitation in her boyfriend's face nor the way the smile faded from his lips. she just assumed he didn't hear her or something. 

"i'm not sure," his answer finally came. 

"i feel like there's so much speculation going around. i mean, i'd be happy for you either way," the girl shrugged, a light smile tugging on her lips still. 

she missed will's hesitation again because he just rolled over so he was on his side and samy met his gaze. "i know you'd be happy for me either way. i think you're my number 1 supporter," the boy chuckled. 

"well, after your family, i hope i'd be. have i ever missed any of your games when you were close to or in michigan?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

will's smile faltered a bit, but again, samy didn't notice. her hand reached up to caress the boy's cheek as he leaned into her soft touch before kissing the inside of her palm. his gesture had samy giggling before pulling him into a real kiss against her lips. she fell back against the bed again as the hockey player sort of hovered above her so he wasn't completely crushing her with all of his body weight. 

the two continued making out until will pulled away knowing it was late and samy was intoxicated so they couldn't take it further. she pouted though when his lips left hers, "why'd you stop?" 

"it's late, we should go to bed. i got practice in the morning," the blonde chuckled. 

"when has that ever stopped you?" the girl teased some making will blush. 

"maybe when you're not drunk, yeah?" he grinned, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek instead. 

"fine," the boy rolled off of her back onto his feet where he reached his hands out to help her back up. 

the couple exchanged warm smiles before samy started towards the bathroom to wipe her makeup off and get ready for bed. fifteen minutes later, they were ready for bed in their pajamas or in will's case, pajama pants and no shirt. samy flicked the lights off before crawling into his side, snuggling into her boyfriend's extended arm. 

"i love you, sleep well," samy hummed into the boy's chest. he smiled even though she couldn't see it. 

"i love you, too," he placed one last kiss to the top of her head and then quickly knocked out for the night, soft snores filling the hotel room. 

[ranposbabe]

The Blindfold Stays On!

pairing: von herder x fem!reader

summary: herder just likes to prove you wrong :(

warning: smut, unprotected sex!!!, herder himself is a warning tbh

“Who’s there ?” Herder calls out as he remains seated working on a gun Moran had once again broken.

“It’s me ! It’s y/n !” You reply, practically breathless as you walk down the steps that led you to the German engineer.

With his back turned to you, you couldn’t see the slight smirk upon his lips.

Of course he knew it was you. By now, Von knew what exactly your steps sounded like . He could tell the difference between everyone in the manors steps yet every time he asked for confirmation you would always assure him that it was you. He knew. He just liked how you forgot every time. It was a little joke of his.

“Ugh ! Von I’m so tired !” You groan, stretching out your arms to soothe the tightness you felt throughout your body.

As you walk straight over to where Von worked at his desk, you couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder to see what he was working on at such a late hour.

As you would of guessed. It was a weapon. “Ha ! You’re tired ?” Von blatantly laughed, continuing on with his work as if you weren’t even there.

“Louis sent me away !” You as Von would put it dramatically sigh, sitting down on the blond’s right knee despite there being a chair right beside him. “I thought Louis was doing paperwork upstairs so what exactly are you doing down here ?”

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist while still continuing to work on the gun.

“He was and everyone else is busy so there’s nothing to do that’ll even wear me out since you don’t even think I’m tired !” You roll your eyes, noticing how Vons pace doesn’t become slower despite now only using one hand. However you weren’t surprised as Von was always skilled when it came to using his fingers.

“I know what will wear you out.” He whispers in your ear, his long fingers slightly digging into your side that makes you instantly rubbing your thighs together.

Despite the fact that he’s wearing the blindfold you could tell by the outlines it’s barely gave that his brows were raised when he spoke with such lust evident in his tone.

Suddenly, Herder swiftly pushed aside the tools left on his desk and in one motion he effortlessly shifted you onto the table before him. As he stood over you instinctively you wrapped your arm loosely around his shoulders as the blonds height was surely intimidating. As if he understood your next move he didn’t hesitate to then hoist you up and walk away from his station. “Von !” You gasp, your legs wrap around his waist as the material of your skirt natural begins to hike up. A smirk is upon Herders lip due to the sensation of your warm skin against his suit pants, his hands instantly are under your thighs messaging the shown. skin knowing that more was soon to be exposed.

Despite only walking for a short amount of time to make his way to his room it’s obvious that Von knows how to handle you even as he opens the door and lays you down onto the bed he has you clinging to him like you’re made of porcelain but with his confidence and skills your complete trust is in him. He knows how to care for your body. He knows every spot as if you were one of his inventions. His property.

As you laid down on the soft sheets you couldn’t help stare up at him as he stood

slowly but surely removing his blazer and unbuttoning his shirt as he knew your eyes would remain on him and him only. “Still tired ?” He asks with a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I think I have a bit of energy left.” You nod, somewhat distracting as your eyes roam over his figure as his alongside your clothes become discarded onto the floor. “You won’t after this.”

Herder uses his hands everyday so of course it would come to an advantage. It doesn’t take long until two of his long fingers are rather deep pumping inside your wet cunt. With only two fingers inside there was a part of you that hoped he wouldn’t add another as just his fingers alone were making you feel so full.

Of course that part of you died down rather quickly.

You practically almost hit your head off the headboard as Von inserts a third finger as you contemplate the fact whether you may rip in half due to not only the size of his fingers inside you but you swear you feel the sensation of him touching your cervix. Surely if his fingers didn’t you knew his cock definitely would.

As you whine at the lack of fullness due to Von removing his fingers, he’s rather quick to stop your whining as he cleans his fingers drenched in your arousal with his own tongue all the while shoving his fingers on the opposite hand right down your throat. When he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a definite pop sound, his thumb softly glides against your lips. He’s touched them many he knows just by the feeling of your soft lips what you’re feeling whether you’re content, upset or about to reach your climax. He knows the last one pretty well by now.

He knows your every teasing move and sure to do it right back if you go too far.

Even when your hand sneakily reaches up just to touch near his blindfold he’s too quick for you as he’s proven before as he catches your wrist and raises them above your head. You can only stare on in shock like a mouse being caught by a cat.

Herder reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out something from the draw.

That something being another blindfold which you funnily enough recognised as being the floral one he once used to trick Moran when the Colonel attempted to remove his blindfold. Von didn’t hesitate to loosely tie it around your own eyes. For the sake of feeling secure your arms instantly wrap around his waist as your others senses become more sensitive as you loose your sight.

“Perhaps another is needed for this frisky wrists of yours, darling.” At that Von gives you no warning as he deeply thrusts into you, already you could see the imprint of his cock inside of you practically kissing your cervix. “You have the solution to everything don’t you ?” You whine, desperately pressing kisses against his fine jaw until he finally gives in and kisses you back. The sudden darkness fills you with excitement as you know longer can even attempt to guess Herder’s next move. “When it comes to you.” He sighs, pulling away along with a string of saliva that belong to the both of you that intertwine. “Yes.” He whispers into your neck pressing open mouth kisses anywhere he could find.

Even when his thrusts begin to slow down you can’t help but lean your head back in pleasure squeezing your eyes shut despite it not making a difference since the blindfold remained around your eyes.

When your highs finally come Von is rather hesitate to pull out but when he does he moves to lay his head onto your chest.

The sound of your fast beating heart almost puts him to sleep. But before you could get used to the position and fall asleep yourself Von pulls away from you.

You hear the sound of a fabric being loosened but before you could figure out what exactly was happening Von removes your blindfold. Your eyes flutter momentarily before you stare upon the surprising sight before you.

He took off his own blindfold. With a smile on his face, his eyes that you fail to describe due to the unrealness of them stare down at you with such warmth and love. You simply smile back at those eyes that only you will ever get to see.

The familiar smirk reappears as he tosses both blindfolds onto the floor along with your now creased clothing.

“If you wanted to see my eyes all you had to do was ask.”

[icysnails]

I just learned that Welt is likely 6'3 and as a small individual I'm slightly terrified but also... Ugh the thought of him leaning down for a kiss has me so whipped... Any ideas for that my friend? 👀

Hello!! A little while ago I was looking over the heights for Honkai characters and I realized that Welt and like half of the Hoyoverse men are all so tall it's unbelievable (╥﹏╥)

I’m also a small individual so I always imagine Welt bending down for pretty much any kind of kisses/hugs- Welt seems so sweet and I feel he would be extra sweet about this (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧ 

I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a fabulous day!!

Welt Kissing a Short!Reader 

Warnings: Kissing, height difference/reader is shorter than welt

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Welt x gn!reader

Word count: 800

Welt is the oldest resident of the Astral Express and is also the calmest of the other members. He acts as a mediator between his friends, often lending Himeko and Pom Pom a hand when managing the express and making sure Dan Heng gets a break from March’s excitement. He’s a deeply respectful man who holds the people he cares about close to his heart and wants everyone to stay safe and content above all else. He cherishes you, and his main priority has become your protection and happiness. 

So, he wouldn’t be much of a tease when it comes to your height. Welt loves every part of you and he wouldn’t want to make fun of you for anything, even if you explicitly said you were fine with it. He doesn’t make a point of bringing it up or rubbing the height difference in your face, beyond casually mentioning it in conversation if the situation calls for it. He also knows that he is incredibly tall himself, and that pretty much everyone is small compared to him. That doesn’t mean he fully ignores it though- secretly, he thinks your height difference is adorable. 

His height and strength grant him the ability to scoop you up in his arms to hug you or carry you wherever you need to go. He does this more often than one might think, but you don’t mind. But above all else, he loves kissing you. To him, it’s like a promise of love and protection, and the look in his eyes shows that he’d give you the entire universe if you asked for it. It may sound old fashioned, but there’s just something extra romantic about it for him, something that leaves him with flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and a pounding heart. 

Often, these kisses take place on the express or away from other people. But if you want one when you’re out on a mission, he’ll get more flushed and decomposed than usual, but will still happily oblige. In truth, he's just happy that he gets to kiss you at all since you’re undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire galaxy.

Welt can’t keep his eyes off you.

He's been trying to focus on stargazing out of the Express’ expansive windows, but even the stars couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to you.

It doesn’t help that you’re standing next to him, marveling at the luminary masterpieces that dot the void of the galaxy, entirely unaware of his staring. Your eyes are full of light and hope, lips parted slightly as the light of the stars reflects in your irises. Welt’s heart swells at the sight- it always does whenever he sees you happy. A loving smile blooms on his lips as takes a small step closer to you, discreetly taking your hand in his. 

His fingers gently lace with your own and the warmth of his skin envelops your palm. Your attention on the vast constellations is broken then, and your awestruck gaze meets his. You return his smile and squeeze his hand comfortingly, heat rising up your neck from how gently he’s looking at you. He cups the side of your face, a deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he bends over slightly so he’s level with your eyes. He leans in and captures your lips with his, cradling the back of your head to pull you closer, hands light and careful on your body as if you’re made of porcelain. 

His eyes remain dazed and half-lidded while yours flutter shut, neck straining slightly as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. When you break away, Welt smiles, his cheeks heated and red as you open your eyes and gaze lovingly at him. He pulls you against him affectionately, turning back to look at the stars. You close your eyes again out of comfort as his hand rests on your waist, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning into him in response. He leans down again to press a kiss to the top of your head, palm soothingly running up and down your side. 

No, Welt doesn’t mind leaning down at all, not if it means he gets to kiss you. Your touch means more to him than the blessings of any Aeon, and there is nothing he wouldn’t do to feel your lips on his once more. When you’re on missions and apart for long periods of time, Welt wallows in the memories of your kisses, desperately wanting to bend over and pull you close and crash his lips onto yours, even if he knows it’s impossible due to your absence.

He knows you’ll come back though, you always do. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. 

And when you do, he knows he’ll have the chance to kiss you, making his heart and soul feel complete again.

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Lemmy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The clown prince of crime and everyone's favorite circus performer! Gosh he's adorable.

Right-handed.

Fairly sensitive about his height. The rest of the Koopa Troop know better than to bring it up. Just. Don't call him short. Last guy who did ended up with more than a broken nose.

Allergic to peanuts, which is unfortunate, because a lot of folks like them roasted at circuses. He likes other nut butters better anyway.

Likes collecting old circus memorabilia, such as posters, small trinkets, and flyers. He started it when he was younger, and has kept it going ever since.

He purposefully lets people underestimate him due to his silly personality and clown aesthetics. Makes it all the sweeter when he ends up with the last laugh.

Can and will juggle just about anything. Ludwig had to stop him on multiple occasions because he was tossing around something dangerous for fun (and profit).

Is very fond of caramel corn and citrus candies, as well as fruit gummies.

Favorite cookies are snickerdoodles and classic chocolate chip, but he loves fruit pies and sweet crêpes for dessert, really anything flaky with layers.

An excellent roller and ice-skater, given his balance. He, Wendy, and Larry like to skate together sometimes.

Very tactile person! Likes giving and receiving hugs, pats on the back, head scratches, and secret handshakes.

Similarly, a tactile learner; if you want him to remember something, give him something he can hold.

Because of his smaller size and how much he moves, any sickness he gets hits him like a truck, but also burns through his system pretty quick.

The only member of the castle with permission to enter Iggy's lab at any time without prior warning or knocking.

Has an almost terrifying amount of emotional intelligence and is very good at sussing out the crux of a relationship problem, sometimes even before the other person does.

Always rehearses his tricks in front of Iggy before anyone else, because he knows he’ll always be guaranteed a laugh, as well as critique on what he can improve on.

One of the lesser strict generals, which the minions are thankful for, but will also ask them to assist in his tricks. This can range anywhere from "hand him something" to "balance on a ball while juggling flaming hammers". The minions are not so thankful for this.

His proficiency with stage illusions actually helped him grasp the concepts of his wand's abilities. Out of the Koopalings, his strength lies in how precise his magic is, able to pull what he needs right when he needs it, as well as being able to divide and manage his concentration.

Likes to exercise with Roy, though he leans more towards yoga and calisthenics than weight training.

He likes all kinds of flowers, but likes seeing cosmos and marigolds the most. Poppies are nice, too.

He can be just as bad as Iggy when it comes to pulling pranks, mainly because no one suspects him; he manages to get out of 99% of situations by pulling the "ohhhh I'm just a lil guy" card.

An alarmingly good impressionist. More than once he fooled the guards into doing something for him by pretending to voice someone else.

Given his small size and how active he is, his metabolism is working overtime to fuel him. He eats almost as much as Larry.

Mastered the art of making the perfect hot chocolate drink, inspired by his trips into the ice lands. Wendy is determined to learn his secret. Lemmy is an adorable steel vault.

If you pick him up or he falls over, he has this… almost ragdoll-like heft to him, with dangly limbs and a little flopping from where you grab him, like he's made of sand or a weighted stuffed animal. The only time this doesn't seem to affect him is when he's on his ball. No one can really explain why this is.

Favorite fruit is any kind of berry, as well as peaches (formed before any interaction with a certain princess).

Morton used to carry him under his arm when they were younger. For what purpose? None know. Lemmy, though, was happy to stay there until he was put down again.

He likes sleeping where he's suspended, like swings, tree tents, and other such places. There was a notable instance where Kamek once found him tucked in his shell and snoozing in an empty hanging plant holder.

Really good at shuffling cards and coin moves, really any sort of street magic or little parlor trick. He's been learning tarot interpretation from Kammy because it's always a hit at parties.

His bombs are his own invention. Iggy helped him develop the combustion system and ratio of powder to use, but the shape, style, and make are all his own. Similarly, the tires he sells for his business are made from the same rubber as his balancing balls.

One of the most agile of all his siblings, and one of the best climbers.

He used to share a bunk bed with Iggy when they were young, but once they got older and had their own separate rooms, he used a hammock instead of a bed. It's quite cozy, with lots of blankets and pillows.

One of his favorite snacks is roasted sunflower seeds with a little salt. Crunchy, and especially tasty after an energetic routine.

The one most likely to lose things. Not because he misplaced them somewhere, but because he made them vanish via magic trick, and can't remember if he re-summoned them again.

Takes any sort of dance class he can. He's energetic and likes being able to move around a lot, but he's especially fond of tap, hip-hop (no pun intended), and ballet. The latter he practices with Wendy.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 23

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em gets a little jealous when Y/N catches the attention of a new beat maker he works with.

Tags : Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Smut (P in V, oral)

Y/N’s POV 

Telling Talia the truth about your relationship with Marshall definitely made your life easier. As it was to be expected, she told Jamal, but the two of them actually promised to keep it a secret from everyone else. You spent a lot of your time at Marshall’s but, on occasions, he would spend the night at your place too, and the four of you would hang out. You would spend as much time as possible with your boyfriend, even though the two of you were drowning in work, you with uni, him at the studio. However, you made it work. You spent every night together, except for one night a week. He usually had his family over for brunch on Sundays, so he would sleep alone at his place on Saturday night. The rest of the time, though, you had a little routine. Whether it was at his place or yours, both of you left stuff at each other’s house. By usual relationship standards, it was moving pretty fast, but it felt right for the two of you. After all, before even getting together, you were hanging out all the time so it wasn’t like you were just getting to know each other. 

At that point, you had been together for about two months and your relationship was still a secret. Everyone at the studio had really enjoyed meeting Josh at Talia’s birthday dinner and they seemed disappointed when you announced that the two had broken up, a couple of weeks afterwards. Obviously, they didn’t know the reason why and you were officially single. One of the drawbacks of no one knowing that you were spoken for is that they tried to get you to date and set you up with some people they knew. You tried to tell them that you weren’t really looking for a relationship, but they didn’t seem to care too much. It had sort of become a running joke in your household. 

Come on, Talia said during dinner, Royce’s cousin is pretty hot. If you’d been single, you should totally have gone to dinner with him ! 

Well I’m not single, you giggled. I feel bad for Royce and Porter though. It’s the third time they are trying to set me up with someone and I end up refusing all the time. I hope they don't take it personally ! 

Especially when they come up with such fine choices, she replied. The men they want to set you up with are total snacks !!! 

Yeah, they’re pretty attractive, you agreed. 

I’m right here, Marshall said with a chuckle. Do you remember me ? You know, your boyfriend ??? 

Feeling threatened, Em ? Jamal asked with a grin. 

Not at all, Marshall replied sternly. 

Not that we’d blame you, Em, Talia said playfully. I mean, that basketball was like half your age and twice your height ? Not to mention that he was buff… 

Remind me why we’re eating with them and not at my place, babe ? He asked you with a faux-exasperated face. 

Because we want to spend time with Y/N ! Talia shrieked. You’re basically stealing our bestie, Em. 

I’m not stealing her, he said as he rolled his eyes.

After dinner, the two of you were cuddling on your bed, watching a movie and talking about outfits for an appearance Marshall was supposed to make on some documentary. 

You can’t have me wear the Saint Laurent jacket all the time, he chuckled. People are going to think I only have one outfit. 

But you look so good in it, you said. Plus, it really shows off your muscles. Like, your broad shoulders and everything… 

Not enough, apparently, he muttered under his breath. 

What ? You asked. 

Nothing, he sighed before getting up. 

Suddenly, he seemed a little bothered. You paused the movie and looked at him. He was standing in front of your mirror, inspecting himself, looking displeased at what he saw. You got up and hugged him from behind. 

You look handsome, you whispered in his back. 

I don’t, he groaned. I look like one of the seven dwarves. 

You don’t, you giggled. What’s up with you ? Are you stressed out about this documentary ? 

Not really, he said. I mean, I couldn’t care less. 

What is it then ? You asked as you ran your hands on his stomach. 

Don’t do that, he grumbled before removing your hands. 

You looked at him, not really understanding. One minute you were cuddling and the next he didn’t seem to want you touching him. Plus, his snapping was sort of unusual. You sat on the bed and patted the mattress so that he would sit next to you. 

Want to talk about it ? You asked softly. 

Do you agree with Talia ? He asked. 

About what ? 

About those guys. he said. Do you think they’re better than me ? 

You stared at him in disbelief. To you, it seemed like a stupid question. Of course they weren’t better than him. 

You know she was just kidding, right ? You asked. 

Yeah but… Are they ? He asked. 

Of course not, you said. Why would you even worry about that ? 

I think it’s pretty obvious why, he sighed. Just… forget it alright ? 

He groaned again and got undressed. You thought he’d stay in his boxers, as he usually did when you went to bed, but he put on sweatpants he had left in your room a while ago and a tee-shirt, as well as a hoodie. He got under the covers while you stared at him.

What ? He asked in an annoyed tone. Why are you staring at me like that ? 

Nothing, you said timidly. Are you… cold ? I can adjust the room’s temperature if you want. 

I’m good, he said. Let’s go to bed, ok ? I have a big day tomorrow. 

Sure, you said in a sad voice. Good night. 

You quickly got into Marshall’s discarded tee-shirt, using it as a nightgown and got into bed. After turning the lights off, you got into your usual position, expecting him to cuddle with you as he always did, but he didn’t. It made you a little sad, although you knew it probably wasn’t a big deal. You were spending almost every night together and he was entitled to some distance if he wanted. This was your first night without cuddling and, without being overly dramatic, it felt like the end of an era. Even though the temperature of the room was perfectly fine, it felt cold. You grabbed a hoodie of his and put it on. When you got back in bed, he had turned and you could only see his back. 

I love you, you whispered shyly. 

Love you too, he mumbled. 

You didn’t sleep too well that night. You ended up tossing and turning a lot, wondering what was on his mind and what you could do to make it better and if you were the one to blame. You hated that kind of mood. Back when you were with Simon, he would often be grumpy over small stuff and give you the silent treatment. This had led to you second-guessing everything and overthinking every time someone’s mood changed. Your heart sank a little as you fell asleep. 

Fortunately, in the morning, Marshall’s mood seemed to have improved. You woke up to him kissing your forehead. 

Hey you, you whispered in a sleepy voice. 

Hey, you little hoodie thief, he chuckled. 

Slept well ? You asked. 

Yeah, I needed that, he said with a smile. Mind giving that hoodie back ? I have to get ready for the day. 

There’s another of your hoodies in the closet. 

I want this one, he chuckled. 

It’s going to reek of me, you pointed out. 

Maybe that’s what I want, he chuckled. I’m going to miss you today. 

I’m going to miss you too, you said with a pout. How about we both blow off work and sleep in ? 

I’d love to but I can’t, he chuckled. We’re having a session with a beatmaker I’m really excited to work with. Why don’t you come by after uni ? You’d really like his work. 

Sure, you said. 

He seemed genuinely excited and it made you happy. He often smiled, but his happiness radiated even more when it came to music, the thing he was born to do. You loved that he shared that with you. Of course, you cherished the moments when it was just the two of you, because it allowed for more intimacy, but you just loved watching him work. 

When you were done with your day, you joined everyone at the studio. They had just finished recording a track with Chris, the beatmaker Marshall had told you about. Apparently, he had reached out through Porter and everyone on the team seemed to really like his stuff. You greeted everyone and they played the track for you. You immediately understood what all the fuss was about : Chris was insanely talented. What he did was different, but also in line with the vibe Marshall had chosen for the album. You complimented him and he ended up playing some of his beats for you while the others took a break. You also talked for a bit. The two of you were roughly the same age, making you the youngest in the room, and you had a lot of common cultural references, seeing as his mother was french. You even talked about french rap music and joked around. He seemed to take a liking towards you but you didn’t pay much attention to it. You were spoken for anyway. Plus, he was clearly the type to flirt with anyone and everyone so you knew it was nothing special here. When they got back to work, you watched them and you couldn’t take your eyes off Marshall. However, the session ran long. Not that it bothered you too much. You always enjoyed hanging out at the studio, getting a preview of what they were working on. Plus, Chris kept on joking with you, either in English or French. Whenever they couldn’t understand, the others threw a side-eye at you, so you tried to stick to English. When the session came to an end, Chris came to see you. 

So, what did you think ? He asked. 

I love your beats, you said earnestly. You’re super talented and I just can’t believe that you started a few months ago. 

I have collabs with a bunch of other people, he said. They won’t be released for a few weeks, but maybe I can get your e-mail and send them to you ? 

I’d like that, you said with a smile. 

And then, maybe you can tell me what you think about them over dinner, a movie, that sort of stuff ? He added with a wink. 

You were a bit taken aback. You quickly glanced at the others in the room. Porter and Royce were excited, Jamal was staring sternly and Marshall’s eyed seemed to have turned a shade darker. He was pursing his lips. 

I’m sorry, you said, I’m not interested in dating right now. 

Can’t blame me for trying, he said with a smile before kissing your hand. 

He took a piece of paper and wrote his number on it before giving it to you. 

I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N. Maybe you can give me a call when you change your mind about dating ? 

You blushed a little and mumbled before he left. His confidence was a bit unsettling. As soon as he was gone, Royce and Porter started groaning. 

What was wrong with this one ? Royce asked as he crossed his arms. 

Nothing, you said. I just said I’m not interested in dating. 

Will you guys just stop pushing people on her ? Jamal asked with a frown. I don’t need a thousand suitors coming to my house trying to woo her. 

Hey we didn’t plan for this one, Porter chuckled. But I think there’s something wrong with you, Y/N. This one was attractive, funny, french and more talented than any of us were at his age. 

Told you, I’m not looking for anything right now, you said. 

Well when that changes, you might want to give this one a call, though, Royce said. That’s the kind of guy you should be with. 

You shook your head and changed the conversation subject, going back to music. After everyone left, you got in Marshall’s car to go to his place. You were happy to finally be alone with him. Plus, it was a Friday night, meaning that the two would be able to spend the next morning lounging in bed. As soon as he got into the car, you grabbed his hand but he pushed it away angrily. 

Care to explain why you were flirting with that jackass right in front of me, Y/N ?! 

What ?! You asked defensively. 

Oh, please. “Oh my God, you’re so talented. I can’t believe you just started a few months ago”, he said, imitating your voice and vocalizing fake french words. You were practically riding his dick !!! 

I was complimenting him ! I also complimented you when we first met, if you recall, you pointed out sternly. 

He literally asked you out ! Marshall blurted. 

And I said no ! Why are you making a big deal out of it ? I like his beats, so what ? I like a lot of stuff. 

Yeah, you like him, he scoffed. 

I don’t even know him, you said. You like his work as much as I do, so what’s the big deal ? 

Yeah well I don’t think I’m going to use these beats anymore, he groaned. 

You looked at him and let out an involuntary laugh. 

He hit on me so you’re not going to work with him ? You asked in disbelief. 

Well I don’t want to work with anyone who wants to fuck my girlfriend, he said. It’s a matter of respect. 

Marshall… He doesn’t even know I’m your girlfriend, you said softly. Everyone thinks I’m single. 

Well maybe that’s the fucking problem ! He screamed. 

You stared at him in confusion. You took a deep breath and tried to keep your composure, even though you were startled by his outburst of anger. 

I’m lost here, you said. Walk me through it, because it doesn’t make much sense… 

You’re not here all the time. You don’t hear everyone commenting on how cute and sweet you are. On how they love you and anyone would be lucky to date you because you’re a goddamn catch. And how “That’s too bad for that dude Josh, he seemed great”. You don’t see everyone looking at you because you’re the brightest person in every room you enter. I do. 

He took a deep breath and avoided your gaze. 

And I know it makes sense to keep it on the low, right now, he added. We agreed to it and shit but then, I see you with that dude who is like half my age and talented as fuck and I’m like… It gets to me. That’s it. You heard Royce. That’s the kind of dude you should be with. 

You smiled shyly and took his hand that was balled in a fist. You kissed his knuckles and caressed his cheek as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. 

So you’re… insecure ? You asked softly. 

If you want to call it that, yeah, he admitted with a groan. 

You really shouldn’t be, you said. You are the brightest person in every room, my love. Especially when you’re in the studio. You’re great and everyone reveres you.  Same goes for me. I only have eyes for you and every time I hang out here, I am amazed at how great and talented you are. And yes, I complimented that guy, because he is talented. But his talent and his beats, they make you shine even more because you are the one putting them to good use. You’re the one writing incredible lyrics and rapping them. No one does it like you. 

You think ? He asked. 

Of course, you said with a smile. And as for me practically riding his dick, don’t you dare say that to me again. Because yours is the only one I want to ride and I will prove it to you right now if I have to. 

He let out a laugh and kissed you. 

I’m sorry for losing my temper, baby, he said gently. And I’d love to take you on that offer but we’re in a public parking lot. 

Then let’s drive to your place and I’ll get on my knees to show you how much I appreciate you, you offered with a devilish grin. 

He laughed, kissed you again and wasted no time before starting the car. During the short drive to his place, you strategically placed your hand on his thigh, tracing circles on it, gently teasing him. When you got to his house, as soon as the front door was closed, you immediately jumped on him and removed his jacket and tee-shirt. Now that the two of you were alone, there was no reason why you should keep your hands off each other. You shoved him against the wall and immediately dropped to your knees. You undid his pants, letting his cock spring free and began licking the head. He closed his eyes and let you work your magic. You stroked him as you licked, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. His fingers were in your hair, slightly pulling and encouraging you. 

I’m not going to last long, he warned. 

You shrugged to show it didn’t really matter to you. All you wanted was to pleasure him and for him to enjoy the moment. But he stopped you and made you get up. 

What are you… ? You began asking. 

I want to be inside of you, baby. 

He quickly undressed you and pinned you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He immediately picked up a fast pace, wasting no time. He was thrusting into you harder than ever, kissing you sloppily. 

Say you’re mine, he whispered in your ear. 

Of course I am, you chuckled softly. 

Say it. I want to hear it. 

I’m… Yours, you said as he slammed into you. Yours only, Marshall. 

Right when you thought it wasn’t possible, he thrusted into you harder and made you come, taking the both of you to climax. You came at the same time and ended up panting on the floor. You were both sweaty, dripping messes, but as far as you were concerned, you were too stunned and exhausted to move. Your eyes were closed and you felt Marshall’s fingers stroking your cheeks. 

You’re a goddess, he said before kissing your forehead. 

You simply hummed in response. You were so tired you could fall asleep right then and there. 

Up, he said. Let’s shower. 

Bath ? You tried to negotiate. I don’t feel like standing up. 

Bath it is, princess, he said as he picked you up and carried you. 

I’m going to be so sore, you complained with a small laugh. 

Good, he said with a hint of pride. That’ll remind you of me. Of who you belong to. 

Territorial much ? You teased. 

He didn’t bother responding. He drew a bath and you settled in his arms and between his legs as he looked at you intensely before starting to wash your back. 

You don’t need to worry about anyone else, you said softly. There’s only you. You are the only one I want to be with. The only one I want to sleep with. 

I know, he said as he interlocked his fingers with yours. But… 

He stopped and sighed. 

What’s wrong, my love ? 

You don’t have to agree, and I know it’s early but… What if we went public ? Like, not “public” public, obviously, but… People we know ? He asked. 

You took a second before responding. You were a little stunned that he even suggested that. Plus, you didn’t feel ready, as you were scared that it might change the group dynamic. You didn’t want to suddenly become “Em’s girl”. 

I don’t know, you said. Do you think it would make you feel better ? 

I guess, he said. But you know, it’s not just a territorial thing. I mean, I want to claim you as mine so that the guys stop suggesting that you date and that these other dudes know that they should back off, don’t get me wrong but… Being with you feels natural. Pretending I’m not feels like lying. 

I’m not ready for people to know about us, you said. 

Are you ashamed of me ? He asked bluntly, his behavior suddenly changing. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The idea that you might be ashamed of him seemed preposterous to you. He was the hottest man you knew, the wet dream of millions of people around the world, insanely smart and talented. If anything, you thought he might be the one ashamed of being with someone as bland as you. 

Ashamed of you ? Why would I be ashamed of you, Marsh ? 

You tell me, he groaned. 

That’s stupid, you said as you shook your head. 

Now I’m stupid ? Great, he said before getting up and leaving you alone in the bathtub. 

Marshall, don’t…, you began to say, but he left and went to his bedroom. 

You groaned as you got up as well, your body still sore from your earlier exertions. You grabbed a robe and joined him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking pissed off. 

What’s with you, lately ? You asked. 

Nothing. 

Clearly, there’s something, you said. Yesterday, you got distant out of the blue, then you acted jealous before claiming me as yours and now you think I’m ashamed of you ? Where is all that coming from ? You asked calmly. 

I never thought a girl would be reluctant to tell anyone she’s dating me, he said. 

So, that’s ego, you pointed out. 

No, it’s not fucking ego ! If it was, I could easily get anyone else and it would be a done deal, he said as he rolled his eyes. 

Way to make me feel good and convince me to go public with you, you said sarcastically. 

He looked at you and sighed before taking your hand. 

I didn’t mean it like that, he said apologetically. All I’m saying is… I don’t understand why you want to hide our relationship, he said. I thought it was going great. 

It is going great, you said softly. 

So what is it ? He asked. Is it because I’m old ? Because of how I look ? What makes you so ashamed of me ? 

You looked at him in disbelief. He seemed sad and genuinely thought you were ashamed of him. It broke your heart. 

I don’t think fifty qualifies as old, Marshall, you said. 

Fifty-one, he bitterly corrected. 

You could be ten years younger or older, it wouldn’t matter to me, you know ? You said. And it's not how you look either. You look great. I mean… Have you seen yourself in a mirror ? 

I have, that’s the problem, he groaned. I’ve also seen the last two guys you dated and the men Royce and Porter keep on trying to set you up with. I know I’m not your type. 

Of course, you’re my type, you said softly. 

Come on, have you seen them ? They’re all at least 6”5, most of them are super buff… 

Yeah, well, I have dated tall men, you shrugged. But you’re muscular too. 

I’m not tall, he sighed. And I haven’t worked out too much lately. I think I’ve put on a few, actually…, he added as he touched his stomach. 

Marshall, I’m 4”9, you chuckled. You might not be as tall as other guys I have dated, but you’re still a freaking giant to me ! And I like your body the way it is. It’s freaking perfect. You might not hit the gym as much as you used to, but with all the time you spend fucking me in those weird positions, I think you work out just as much, if not more… 

True, he chuckled. But I don’t know, Talia said…

Talia was just teasing you, you said softly. You know how she is. She loves being mean to you. 

She’s a fucking bully, he said. 

But she’s like that because she likes you, you said. 

I know, it’s just… I’m a bit sensitive about that, I guess ? He shrugged. Like, I’m aware that you have a lot of options. And that some of them are literally half my age. 

Ok, you said calmly. I think we should address this because it seems like you’re obsessing over it, at this point. What’s up with your age ? You seem to make a big deal out of it. You have always pointed out our age difference, but it seems to bother you more, these days. 

Royce made a joke the other day, he admitted. Or a… comment. I don’t know. 

What did he say ? 

That if I wasn’t too old for you, maybe I would have had a chance to put you in my bed, he said. 

Well joke’s on him, you chuckled. Because we’re in bed together almost every night. And I love your age. 

You love my age ? He asked in disbelief. 

Well, I do love that you are experienced, you said with a wink. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had. Like, no one makes me come like you. And I had never even squirted before you. 

Really ? 

Yes, you giggled. And, the sex thing aside, I like the fact that you’re more mature than guys my age. So you don’t have to worry : I am not ashamed of you or anything. If we were the same age, we wouldn’t even be together. 

What do you mean ? 

Well, if I had met you twenty years ago, I would probably have thought you were an asshole, from what I gathered, you explained. And right now, I wouldn’t be as attractive. I’d be… older. You men age like fine wine but what you see of me right now is my prime. 

The asshole thing is true, he chuckled. But I’m not fucking DiCaprio, you know ? I’m not only into girls who are in their twenties. And for the record, you’d be beautiful at any age. I’ll still love you when you’re 51. I’ll be an old man by then and you will have put me in a retirement home, but I’ll still be crazy about you. 

You swooned at how sweet it was that he thought about loving you almost twenty-five years from now. It implied that things were serious between the two of you and that he thought your relationship might be going somewhere. You sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck before kissing him softly. 

I love you, he said. 

I love you too, you whispered. I’m so happy and proud to be your girlfriend. 

You are ? He mused. 

Of course, you giggled. 

So… Can I ask why you don’t want people to know about us ? He asked carefully. 

I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea, you admitted. 

What idea ? 

That I’m dating you because you’re this famous rapper. I like the Eminem, talented dude part for sure. But I’m not dating him. I’m dating Marshall Mathers. I’m with you because you are the most caring, funny, nice and good-looking man I know. I’m more interested in your comic book collection than your career anyway. And I don’t want people to see me as just your girlfriend. I like being their friend too, you know ? 

I see, he said. That makes sense, actually. 

He kissed your cheek and played with your hair. 

Sorry for being a dick, he apologized. 

It’s fine, you said. There’s something else, too… 

Mmmh ? 

People knowing about us would include your family, right ? You asked. 

Well… yeah, he said. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. But yeah, I guess. 

Now you might be the one ashamed of me, you giggled. 

Not at all, he said reassuringly. You’re right, it might be too early for that. But I am in love with you and I’m serious about us. So, at some point, I’d like to tell them about you. 

Aren’t you scared of what they will think ? You asked nervously. 

Not really, he said. They will love you. You have no idea how long they have been pestering me about dating, so you’re probably going to come across as some sort of savior. 

They won’t think it’s weird ? You asked. 

I don’t think so, he said. I haven’t really thought about that, I guess. I never thought I’d want to introduce anyone to my family anyway, you know ? But I know that they’re going to like you. You already get along with Hailie and I know that Lainey and Stevie will love you. But we’ll see how it goes when you meet them as my friend anyway.

You really want us to meet ? You asked in shock, suddenly nervous. 

Chill, he chuckled. It’s not going to be any sort of proper introduction or anything like that. But they usually come and watch football games with me, either here or at the stadium. There’s always a bunch of friends too. So I might invite you, Talia and Jamal. What do you think ? 

As long as I don’t have to wear stupid Lions apparel, you chuckled. 

You don’t get to disrespect my team under my roof, he said with a faux frown. 

It’s not the team, it’s the outfit, you corrected with a smile. I don’t even understand the rules anyway. 

Now I’m ashamed of you, he joked. 

You chuckled and kissed him. 

Be ashamed of me all you want, but I’m starting to get cold and I want my bath, you said as you got up. Care to join ? 

Sure, he replied with a smile. I’ll explain the rules to you, once again. 

No, you begged - fully knowing that he could be unstoppable when it came to talking about football. 

Come on, it’s easy, he began. 

I didn’t ask for it, you said sheepishly. 

But you just said you don’t know the rules of football, he said. 

Doesn’t mean I care, you giggled. I swear, if you start talking about football, I will rap some Benzino. 

Do that under my roof and you’re dead, woman, he said before tickling you. 

You tried to push him away but he was too strong for you. He pushed you onto the bed and buried his face in your neck, gently nipping at the sweet spot he knew you had. You couldn’t control your moans as he started sucking on it and untying your robe, exploring your body with his hands. You were sore but clearly ready for another round. After some sweet love making, you got back to the bathroom to draw another bath - the water being too cold now and saw your reflection in the mirror. You let out a gasp. Your neck was full of hickies. Marshall arrived behind you with a shit-eating grin. 

I’m going to kill you, you sighed. 

What ? Just because we’re not going public doesn’t mean I’m letting people think you’re single, he chuckled. 

They're going to think I’m dating a freak, you commented as you inspected the hickies and figured out they’d be hard to hide. 

I should have done that earlier, he said with a smile. Now maybe Royce and Porter will stop. 

If I have to walk around like this, I’m going to start leaving hickies too, you threatened. 

Don’t you dare, he chuckled. My kids are going to freak out if they see that. 

You owe me, then, you said sternly. 

Anything you want, princess, he said lovingly.

[insomniac4000]

Change of heart- Part 1

Chris' smile faded quickly when he walked into the pub garden and saw the face of the person he least wanted to see.

"What is she doing here?" He spat causing George to roll his eyes.

"Can't you just be civil for a couple of hours?" The younger man asked and Chris shrugged.

"Only if she doesn't start anything."

No one knew exactly why you and Chris didn't like each other, which was a shame as everybody assumed you two would get along you had a similar sense of humour as well as similar interests but the two of you never really clicked in the way everyone had hoped.

You were a musician and Youtuber, as such you had developed a close friendship with Arthur Hill as you two had toured Europe together. Your career had started on Youtube but like most Youtubers your content now and branched away from just music content, also doing vlogs and other content. You had first met Chris when he had invited you to one of his video shoots, you had played football a little bit in school but that was over fifteen years ago and you weren't particularly great even then. Your rising popularity though made you a requested guest however and at the time Chris thought it a great idea although he would come to regret it later.

You were about ten minutes late but it genuinely wasn't your fault as your train had broken down, you would have been fifteen minutes early if it wasn't for this and you were very apologetic when you arrived. You also made a jab about Chris's height when he was doing the intro, while George, both Arthur's and Harry found it hilarious Chris was not amused in the slightest. It was from that moment on Chris decided you were rude and you thought Chris was full of himself.

"Good evening," George chimed out as him and Chris took their seats on the other side of the bench, you were in a pub garden as it was summer time. Your were in an Arthur sandwich, the boys knowing Chris would want to sit as far away from you as possible.

"Hey," you smiled trying to be polite, at least you could be the bigger person you thought.

"How was the shoot?" Arthur Hill asked, you sat there somewhat awkwardly playing with the rim of your wine glass, here we go you thought, another ten minutes of hearing Chris gloat about his football skills. You love to see him in a real premier league match one day to see if he really would perform in the way he thought he would.

"It was good for George to finally put his big head to good use," Chris joked before he started to talk about a great penalty he made.

"I'm going to get a drink," you announced standing up from your perch.

"Pint of Moretti please," George asked as ArthurTV asked for the same, Arthur Hill lifted his half full pint glass letting you know he was okay.

"No thanks I'll get my own," Chris mumbled before going back to his story.

"Suit yourself," you sighed before making your way up to the bar.

"I thought you said you were going to be civil?" George asked looking at the pair of Arthur's who were also looking tired of everything.

"I spoke to her didn't I? I need a drink," Chris got up and went to search for alcohol. Lauren picked up the two beers and glass of wine carefully balancing them in her two hands before turning around and narrowly missing the person behind her.

"Be careful!" Chris scolded stepping back.

"I was nowhere near you, calm down," you clapped back before going back to your shared friends.

Chris was two things when he was drunk, either very hands on or very mean. To y/n he was always the latter. When you came back from talking to a guy on the next table Chris let out a very audible scoff.

"What's your problem?" You had finally had enough of his snark for one evening.

"Don't get too close to me I don't want to catch whatever diseases you've surely picked up," Chris snapped. You put your tongue to the side of your mouth and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" You asked, everyone else on the table looked at each other, these arguments between you and Chris often got very explosive.

"Judging by your dating record it's a miracle you're not down the clinic every weekend," he replied with a smirk on his face.

"Well next time I'm there I'll be sure to say hi," you retorted picked up your jacket.

"What are you doing?" Arthur Hill asked as you threw the jacket over your shoulders with force.

"I'm not staying somewhere where I'm not wanted," you explained placing your arms through the sleeves of your denim jacket.

"There's no need for that," George was the one who was going to try and calm the situation down.

"There is. I'm sorry but I've put up with the shit for too long. If this tiny little excuse for a man is so insecure and petty that he can't even keep his fat gob shut for one hour then I'm done," you cried before grabbing your bag and walking in the direction of the exit. George and the Arthur's all called after you but you ignored them, as long as he was there you weren't going to have anymore to do with it.

"Just what is your problem with her?" Arthur Hill asked the smaller man.

"The only problem I have is that she has a problem with me!" Chris defended himself before picking up his pint.

"I don't buy that, you've had it our for her since day one!" George replied, the two Arthur's nodded.

"If this were primary school you would have pulled her pigtails and pushed her over," ArthurTV joined in.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chris asked slamming now empty drink down onto the wooden bench, all he wanted to do tonight was go out with his mates and have a laugh but now he was being ganged up on and he wasn't having fun at all.

"I honestly think you like her, she pissed you off and now you're treating her like shit like the petty little man you are," George explained and again both Arthur's nodded in agreement. They all hoped it was a big misunderstanding and the two would kiss and make up, if only they put their bad first impressions aside for ten minutes they would realise the actually had a lot in common. Chris did not take this comment well at all, he could think of a hundred if not a thousand women he would much rather be with.

"Not if the future of humanity depended on it," the curly haired man replied before sulking off to the bathroom.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take guys, we need to get them to talk," an exhausted ArthurTV cried.

"I know. I honestly think he'll like her music if he gave it a chance, I reckon if we bring him to her London show next month he'll have a new appreciation for her," Arthur Hill surmised. He was also playing at the show so it wouldn't be too difficult to get Chris to attend.

"That and if she's on stage at least they won't be round each other to argue," George added in before sighing. He was getting very sick of this too, everyone was.

"Then it's settled."

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: (Duo POV) After a hunt gone wrong Dean falls sick. Now on his death bed Sam and Y/N do whatever it takes to save him from the void that is death, even if that means running into trouble.

Warnings: Cannon violence, Ansgt, hospitals, talk about dying and death, illness, heart issues, talk of past deaths, grief, Dean may be OOC or at least his inner thoughts but let me know, Historical and religious talk of the Celts and Christianity if anything is incorrect/ inaccurate pls tell me so I may fix it, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for 100 followers, never thought this series would get so much love!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 15,139

Faith

(Master list, Prev. Ch, Next Ch)

I hate hospitals.

I hate hospitals, especially when it is someone you care about on the medical bed.

I hate hospitals, especially when you can’t be in the room with the person; when you have to sit in the waiting room with nothing but pure anxiety coursing through your veins, and everyone around you is in the same position.

At least Sam is with him, that must make both of them feel better. But it doesn't make me feel as better as it should, my leg bounces rapidly no distraction working for me. I tried reading and listening to music on my stupid iPod, but neither worked- not when my mind was going a hundred miles a minute on all the worst possibilities.

It wasn't meant to be a difficult hunt, going after a rawhead. Yet it all went wrong far too quickly, Dean yelled for Sam and I to get the children out of the basement while he stayed behind fighting the thing. It would be a single shot with a taser, easy to mess up on, truthfully, which is why I had given mine up for him to have as an extra one before I carried a young boy out. It was all wrong. So so wrong. He shot the thing but they both happened to be standing in a small puddle of water, and water conducts stupid electricity and he got hurt too.

Sam had found him. We called for an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital, he was unconscious the whole time.

Sam had to talk to the receptionist for insurance and then the cops explaining what happened and then a doctor. But they wanted to talk privately and he wanted to see Dean alone first. Which only increased my anxiety, Sam wouldn’t have done that unless something was horribly wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I felt like I was going to vomit or shake myself out of existence, maybe the latter would be better. Everyone around me wasn't much better, looking the same shade of nervousness. Some were crying, pacing, or on the phone talking rapidly. Hospitals were a horribly depressing place.

I’m unsure how much time passes, minutes, hours, an eternity? Sam walks towards me, tears in his eyes some clearly having spilled over by the redness of his cheeks. No. No. No.

I stand up walking to him almost without noticing as if it was all just natural, tears fill my own eyes and I can feel my hands shaking. No. No. He wouldn't be crying if–

“Sam?” I said weakly, my voice wobbling horribly. I swallow down a knot in my throat, this couldn't be happening. No.

He drops his head down, his hair covering his face and likely more tears that spilled over. “Sam,” I say again my voice breaking. I couldn't lose someone else, couldn't lose anyone else. He finally lifts his head, barely being able to hold eye contact. He seems to wobble and all at once he falls into me, I hold him, his head dropping awkwardly into my neck, from the height difference, broken sobs leaving his mouth. He hugs me tightly, grasping desperately to the back of my shirt. Something is horribly wrong. I blink back my tears, I had to be strong for Sammy. This was his brother, I might have lost both my parents but I couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose my brother.

My neck grows damp but I ignore it. I hold the back of his head, holding him, no comforting words forming in my mind. “Sam” I breathe. I felt like I was going insane. He pulls himself away, keeping me in arm's distance. His face is red and blotchy from crying, and his hair is a mess. “Please” I begged one last time, my voice quivering.

He sniffles hard, but I do not expect him to be strong, “He has a month, at best” his voice is coarse and shaky but the words feel like they came out in slow motion. Everything freezes, turning into a buzz of white noise. I can feel tears spill down my cheeks but I can’t move. I can’t. No. He can’t be dying. No. No. He wasn’t allowed to. The world seemed to shatter, no, maybe that was my heart. I can feel it beating in my ears, everything else fading away. His mouth moves, he is saying something else but I cannot hear him over the sterile noise of the world crumbling. I don't understand. My throat is so tight I feel like I might just break right there. My knees feel weak and the floor seems closer than before.

Sam pulls me into him, holding me tightly once again, his hands cradling my head as a choked sob leaves my lips. Tears pour down my eyes, he promised. All those months ago he promised he wouldn’t leave me, it was a stupid and fruitless promise but I believed it.

He couldn’t die. He can’t, he can’t die. No one else. Not again.

All too soon Sam pulls back, his arms being the only thing that seems to be holding me up. I can barely make out his features behind my own teary eyes. “He wanted me to come get you, ‘wouldn’t talk without you there” he croaks. A whole new sob breaks through my lips, I wasn't strong enough for this. I went through this twice, I could not take another. Tear after tear passes down my face, my cheeks stiff with it. I shake my head, this can’t be happening again, but even so, I let him pull me down the halls to his room trying my best to blink away my never-ending tears. But it was useless, not when it felt like I was being torn in two.

I stopped at the threshold of the doorway, he looked so weak, he was so pale and he had dark circles under his eyes that were not there hours before. An IV sticks out of his arm along with various machines around him, including an EKG. New tears fall over the rim of my eyes and I have to force my hand to clasp my mouth to hide another sob. Sam enters the room, his face hard and rid of any of the emotions he showed just moments ago. How could he do that?

Dean’s eyes are focused on the TV, but even from where I was partially hiding I could see his green eyes had grown dull, “Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible” he jokes but he sounded weak too, his voice rid of its usual playful tone and familiar gruffness. Sam shakes his head and sighs, his ability to not break down in front of his brother was impressive to the point of it being scary, “I talked to your doctor.” But Dean continues to ignore anything that wasn’t that stupid TV playing commercials, “That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down” he responds instead. I want to laugh and ask him what the cute laundry bear ever did to him but I could not find it within me to be humorous, “Dean” I plead weakly my voice betraying me with its cracking. That gets his attention.

His eyes snapped up to where I stood, leaning against the doorframe to prevent myself from crumbling to the floor. His face immediately fills with worry, his eyes softening which is ironic considering who’s in the hospital bed. Without looking away from me he turned off the TV, I could tell he was thinking and worrying over something as he stared at me but I could not look at him without new tears falling. “Yeah. All right, well, ‘looks like you're gonna leave town without me” he finally says, my eyes snap back to him but he has already turned his attention to his brother. “What the hell are you talking about?” I step into the room, my sadness mixing too closely with frustration over his stupid declaration. “We are not gonna leave you here” Sam adds in sternly. “Hey, you better take care of that car” he points at Sam, any hint of a joke void from his voice, “Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass.”

My eyebrows scrunched together, “what's wrong with you?” I accuse, “How are you just accepting this? You are young and have so much life ahead of you” For each word that passed my lips tears followed, my resolve too thin to exist. “You’re meant to grow old, and…and yell at kids to get off your lawn as you work on Baby and maybe other cars with a pet at your side and a lovely home. You’re meant to annoy your brother and me with stupid calls and the same old rock music.” I swallow roughly, ignoring the subtle shock on his face, “It’ll be beautiful and wonderful and we will all be there to watch it happen because you have to live.” My chest heaves, and I’m surprised I have any more tears to give. Life was too cruel before to allow me the opportunity to beg someone to stay as if that feat alone was enough to keep someone alive.

Silence envelopes the room, his eyes are wide and his lips are slightly agape. I don’t believe in God, but I would get on my knees right now and beg and plead and do anything he ever wanted if it meant Dean living. He sighs after what feels like forever, “Look, what can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.” I don’t understand how he could just dwindle his life down to bad luck and a wrong straw. Tears well in my eyes and I have the urge to smack some sense into him. “Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options” Sam insists, his voice breaking slightly. “What options?” Dean asks, “Yeah, burial or cremation?” he pauses for a moment his “joke” not landing, “And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. How many people will I have to lose until it's enough to feed the glutenous wrath of death? First, it was my mother growing sick and dying, neither my brother nor I was allowed to see her in such a state not even to say goodbye. Then my Dad, who grew reckless in the wake of his only love's death, the coldness about him we had heard about only in stories returning to consume him completely until he drove himself into the ground. I always thought I was most like my mother, but now in the wake of this maybe I am my father's daughter.

I wipe away my tears roughly before clenching my hands, needing my nails to dig into my palms to ground me. “Let me try and heal you,” I say as firmly as my voice will allow. I've never done such a thing on a serious scale, it never got to the point where I felt desperate enough to toe the line of my own morals. But this, for him I would and I would not stay awake at night contemplating my selfishness.

Dean’s POV

Her face was red from crying, and her e/c eyes were filled with deep sadness. She looked shattered, and even so, she was beautiful.

I know I wasn’t being fair to her or Sam. But I always knew I’d die on a hunt, I long accepted it so her big glossy eyes would do nothing to change that fact. Even if it broke her, both of them, which I knew I was already doing. But I also know that sugar-coated truths would only hurt them more, I wasn’t going to allow them to get hopeful not when it would ruin them.

“Please?” she pleads quietly. My resolve breaks, my heart lurches as if it was trying to get closer to her and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the heart attack.

This was for the better, if they saw nothing would work early on they’d hopefully accept my death quicker. Plus I knew she’d stay up every night wondering what more she could have done for me, she’d obsess over it until it broke her all over again. I give her a sharp nod not trusting my voice, her eyes seem to light up a little, and that enough was all the excuse I needed.

She steps closer to my bed, careful not to trip over the wires connecting to me. She got close enough where I could smell her perfume, something sweet and flowery, and undeniably her, I felt warmer just from her closeness. She swallows roughly, “It works better if I can touch you…without the barrier of clothes.” Under any other circumstance I would most likely be flustered by her shy request, I mean this is what I’ve always wanted– to have her. But time was not on my side and I’d never get a chance to tell her, whenever it was I planned on doing so– to do so now with only a week to live would be too cruel. If she didn't like me back I’d die at least knowing and maybe I’d die with a broken heart or whatever crap people complain about. But if she did like me, which Sam insists she does, then a week wouldn't be long enough.

I lift the scratchy hospital shirt, hoping neither saw how much energy the simple action took. She looked nervous as she stared at my bare chest but I could see the hard look of determination in her eyes, she needed this. Carefully she places her hands on the center of my chest, her hands freezing as I suspected they would be but I don't cower from her gentle touch I lean into it further. I bask in it, small sparks igniting where she touched and it had nothing to do with her abilities. She looks up at me, watching my face for any warnings as her own e/c eyes turn to purple and pure warmth extends from her palm seeping into my skin. Maybe I should have been scared, but she was looking at me so gently and she's so beautiful that she must be an angel, and I'm only half the man she deserves.

I suck in a deep breath, clarity hitting me like an arrow, the grogginess and pain I felt melting into a puddle and being replaced with her. It felt like she was cradling my heart, caressing it gently like she would my face, her kindness and love seeping into the vessel, and truthfully I don't ever want it back. She could have my heart. She could have every part of me, and I'd never ask for it back. It's hers. I'm hers. My mouth fell agape, her hair fell onto her face, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel the tension leave my shoulders and it was like everything I'd been carrying was lifted away. I don't care if she was healing me or not, I want her hands on me, I want to feel her. Just her. She was the sun and I was a fool begging to be closer, even if it burned, even if it was impossible.

Her hands begin to shake violently, but she pushes on, she holds on to me. Her fingers look like they want to curl and dig into my skin and it's clear she's fighting against the instinct, she doesn't want to hurt me not that I would mind any marks she printed into my skin. She lets her head hang, closing her eyes, “Oh fuck” she whines quietly and I have to desperately keep my mind clean. ‘Not the time to have those thoughts or acknowledge how hot that was. I lift a hand pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, keeping my hand there to hold her. Again I have to force away any ideas of what noises I could get her to make in a similar position. She looks up at me from her lashes as she bites down on her bottom lip hard, and I wonder how much longer I can keep my mind clean.

Suddenly deep crimson drips down her upper lip, and she begins to shake more. “Wait, wait Y/N” I breathe, looking from her over to Sam with concern. He pulls her off of me, she looks drained and paler than I know I am. She wipes at her nose, the blood has seemingly stopped, but she still shakes and wobbles. Sam pushes her down onto a nearby seat and I pull down my shirt, “How do you feel?” he asks me. “Peachy” I respond, smirking. He rolls his eyes, “I’m being serious. Did it work?”

“I feel better, not as weak” I answer truthfully. She nodded her head, her voice quieter than moments before, “Call for a nurse we should see if anything physically changed.”

“What about you? What was all that?” I ask. She shrugs, “‘Never really done it on a scale like this before, but it takes a lot out of you.”

Your POV

The doctor finally comes back, sifting through the papers on his clipboard, he looks shocked and confused which I hope is for the better because being lightheaded and on the verge of passing out would be worth it. “‘Looks like there has been some improvement, which would explain why you feel better,” he says, the room growing quiet with hope, “The difference is slight but well enough to know it wasn't a fluke” he looks up, “But I’d say it wasn't enough to change the outcome, I’m sorry.” Somehow the second time was worse. Hope was worse. “Thank you, Doctor” Sam replies sadly, and with a nod, the doctor leaves but does not take our sorrow with him.

“I can keep trying. Eventually, it will add up, and the more I do it the longer I’d be able to go” I offer, desperation clear on my tongue that it's almost embarrassing. “We can keep trying that but we should look at other options too” Sam adds. I nod my head vigorously in agreement. “You shouldn't get your hopes up, I’ve already accepted I’m gonna die you should too” Dean responds instead.

“Not happenin’” Sam retorts.

After we used up all our visiting hours we headed to the library, skipping out on eating to research for hours on both supernatural and not– just anything related to heart conditions and healing. I didn't ask why Sam didn't stay with his brother, he was family so he didn't have to follow visitation hours but I also figured he would rather spend his time trying to find a solution. Currently, Sam went the more “normal” route, pulling and printing articles on heart surgeries and other doctor stuff while calling several people. At the same time, I delved into the dark that is the unnatural.

Sam left a while ago, heading back to the motel with all his articles. I insisted on staying behind to “look for more,” in reality, I was going to make a call. The library closed in less than an hour and I already researched several Gods associated with healing, the side of my hand had turned dark with the ink stains. Though it was unsuccessful it was helpful for two reasons; one I at least looked, meaning it was one more thing I could check off, and two it pushed me to make a call I wasn't sure I was ready for.

What I needed was to be home, to look through many books on mythology and witchcraft, there I would find something but that was halfway across the country and each day that passed would be a day wasted. And teleporting books here wouldn't be helpful when there were so many of them and I wasn't sure where I would even begin.

I stare at my phone on the table, this shouldn't be a big deal. I call her all the time, well not as of late which I already got yelled at for. No, none of that mattered. She could lecture me a hundred times or resent me for months. I needed to help Dean. I swiftly pick up my phone, scrolling down to her contact, I don't hesitate to hit “call”, I’ve already hesitated too many times today.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, “Adeline” I start my voice already cracking with emotion. I can almost hear her jump to her feet, “Y/N?! What happened? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I did not think I had any more tears left but was proven wrong when another tear slipped down my cheek, “Dean he’s…” I couldn’t say it, couldn't make it more real than it already was. I swallow roughly, trying to cram down my emotions for the time being, I’ve cried enough today, “Dean he’s dying, and I don't know–” a strangled sob leaves my lips and I have to force myself together resting my head on my hand for support, “I don't know what to do” I finished weakly. I hear her suck in a deep breath and it only makes me feel worse, “I-I want help…I need help,” I add, “I tried healing him, the doctor said the effect was minor but I’m gonna keep doing it, even if it takes a lot out of me.”

She exhales, “I’m really sorry Y/N”. I shake my head even though I know she can't see me. I ignored her comment, there was nothing to be sorry for because he was going to be alright, “Do you have any ideas? Maybe I’m doing something wrong or could be doing it better?”

She goes quiet again and it is hard to hold on to hope, “please,” I say quietly hoping she can hear me. She clears her throat, her voice cold and serious, “I’d try some herbal tea, one with healing properties any one of it will help or at least make him more comfortable.” I hum picking up my pen again, writing ‘herbal tea’ on my arm, I didn’t want to risk forgetting.

She sighs again, but it isn’t disappointed or even exhausted, “Don’t…don’t get your hopes up.” I shake my head vigorously again, “I’m not listening to this. I called for help cause you’re the only person I can think of who would know even a wisp of this. I’m desperate for help, not a lecture.” I know I was being cruel, ‘could hear it. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. “No, Y/N please listen. This isn’t an easy task, honestly, I’d like to say it’s impossible but I don’t want you to hang up on me. This doesn't come without great sacrifice.”

“And what if I’m okay with that?” I snap back, “I’m willing to sacrifice.”

“This is different,” she spits a hint of anger on her tongue, “I don’t mean just going against everything you believe in or against your mother's words. I mean making deals with demons, where you could lose your soul or your life or what makes you whole or maybe even worse.” I go quiet. I know she’s right, she always is. But I know my answer, I know what I’m willing to do, “I said I’m willing to make sacrifices.”

“Are you?” she counters. And without hesitation, I answer, “I love him.” I could tell she was getting frustrated with me, for not listening to her warning or taking her seriously even though I was. Of course, I know this is dark and messy territory, but that did not concern me. I can hear her swallow, her voice turning hard again, “What you would need to do would be more than love him.”

“Would it?” I counter.

“Yes,” she replies sternly, “And I won’t help you with that.” It was hard to be mad at her, she was just watching out for me trying to protect me. That was her job after all. But I wanted so desperately for him to be okay, he had to be. “Whether you help me or not, I will do everything in my power to fix this. He won't die.”

“I know you will. That’s what scares me.”

My eyebrows furrow, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never will,” she huffs out a breath, “I don’t want you to regret anything.” I couldn't vocalize it, did not even know how to make her understand what I felt–that even if I lost him now if I never saw him again. If I sat on his grave weeping for the man I loved with new flowers in my hand each day and each year. If I never got to hold his hand again. If I never got to see him smile again– that cocky smile. Even if I never got to tell him that I loved him…even then, I would never regret knowing him. Never regret the first time we met and never, never regret loving him. But I don’t say that, instead settling for, “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She turns serious once more, determined even, “You won’t. I’m on my way to your place now, I’ll go through your books, and I’ll call you back the second I find something.” She may not agree with my decisions all the time, and might even be upset that we don’t talk as much anymore but at the end of the day we’re best friends–more than that really, “Thank you, Adeline.”

“Of course, now don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she laughs lightly, “I love you, talk to you later.” I smile for the first time in hours, “I love you too, be safe.”

I let myself into the motel room. Sam doesn’t look up from his place on the bed, papers surround him, some in the garbage which I assume were ones that won't work out. I make my way to the small table in the corner of the room, avoiding looking at where Dean slept the night before. I take out my spellbook, my small journal, and my laptop. My eyes were killing me, most likely from crying so much before.

The next few days would follow a similar pattern, Sam would fall asleep but never for very long before getting coffee and a quick bite to eat before continuing his search. And I spent the nights awake, sleep could not find me at the edge of the void. At some point crumbled pieces of paper surrounded me and I felt like a college student again, I didn't want to do anything but look for an answer. Adeline called once that first night, but it didn't wind up leading anywhere.

The second morning I prepared tea for Dean, arriving at the hospital with the steaming cup and food that wasn't from the hospital. He looked happy to see me and complained about how bored he was there. He looked horrible, and it hurt my chest to see him like that so I just nodded to what he said. He drank the tea with nearly no complaint but instead curiosity, I explained I had boiled Sun water, before making homemade ginger tea adding cinnamon sticks, chamomile, and honey for taste. He asked me to explain to him why I chose each one, though I wasn't sure he truly cared and just wanted to hear me speak since he was relentless with his questions. I healed him again and laid with him when he asked. Then the rest of the while we talked as I did research.

Somehow being there, and watching him worsen was worse than not being there at all. I think I understand now why we weren't allowed to be there when my mom died. I would have rathered someone just stabbed me in the heart over and over then see his eyes grow duller. I healed him again before I was kicked out.

I felt hopeless. I wasn't going to give up but I felt hopeless. It was like I wasn't myself but watching myself go through the motions.

The second night wasn't much better. I slept for a couple of hours only to wake up crying. I didn't try to sleep after that. I prayed to God that night. I hadn't done that in years. I hadn't begged him for mercy since my mother died. I think I was on my knees for hours, the harsh carpet digging into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I barely felt it after a while. I apologized for not praying in years, for only praying when it benefited me which I knew was selfish. I asked for help, and begged for it. I needed him to help Dean. I said I’d do anything he wanted if he did that, even if it meant becoming a nun. I felt incredibly embarrassed begging like that, I didn't even believe in God yet there I was my hands pressed together and the carpet beneath my knees. I cried again that night, for everyone I've lost and how far I would go to save another.

Adeline was wrong, I decided. Sacrifice didn't come with the solution, it came with the search for the answer. Like I said, I didn't feel like myself. I knew I was losing myself each hour that passed and I knew it would only get worse if he did die.

On the third morning, I did the same thing I did the morning before. But after healing him for the first time that morning, I broke in front of him. “I don't want you to go,” I told him, sobbing. He just held me against him even though I knew it hurt him, but he just stroked my head anyway mumbling “I know, I know” into my hair. I could hear his voice breaking with each letter; somehow, that was worse than seeing him act as if he didn't care. Then very quietly he whispered, “I don't know how to comfort someone when I know I’m the source of their pain.”

They did more tests on him. He wasn't getting better, at least not fast enough. It seemed my healing was just halting its progress momentarily, in a sense slowing it down before it continued. I needed to stay on him longer but I wasn’t sure how and ‘could barely make it past 20 minutes before I began to shake so badly and feel so faint like my chest was being pulled open with the sharp nails of cold hands.

I went back to the motel dragging my feet. It had been three days and we had nothing to show for it but failed attempts which I suppose is better than no attempts though it didn’t much feel that way. When I got there I returned to my corner at the table, moving away my mess of “work” with a swipe of my arm. I crumble into the wooden chair, laying my forehead on the edge of the table, I didn’t know what to do. I’d keep looking no matter what, that would not change. I would search through every book on every myth, god, folklore, anything. I’d do whatever it took, I just hoped time would not beat us to the finish line.

With a huff, I pulled my latest book from the library closer to me, a book on Greek Gods. I pick up where I left off in the thick book on the God of healing and medicine Asclepius. I read the passage about him, and it seemed promising, “He was considered a symbol of medical knowledge, skill, and wisdom. Known for his ability to heal the sick and revive the dead, Asclepius played an essential role in Greek religious and medical traditions…He was known for his exceptional skill in diagnosing diseases and treating wounds. His abilities were so profound that he could even bring the dead back to life, a talent that eventually led to his downfall…The Asclepieia, healing temples dedicated to the god, were spread throughout Greece and were renowned centers of medical practice. Pilgrims would travel great distances to seek healing, engaging in purification rituals, sacrifices, and dream incubation, where they would sleep in the temple and receive divine guidance through dreams.”

The rest of the chapter contains no more info on the healing aspect but just more of his legacy and whatnot. I close the book sharply, pulling open my laptop to do more research on him. Maybe a temple still existed, and considering Pilgrims there might even be one in America somewhere. Just as I type the temple name into Google a knock sounds from the door.

For a moment I think Sam forgot his keys, but when I turned to where he always was he was there. He looks at me confused and I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe it’s room service?” He answers by going to the door and opening it curiously. I watch from my seat, tilting my chair back to get a better look. But it is not room service, or someone knocking at the wrong door, it’s Dean. I almost fall backward, my chair slams forward back on all four legs I shoot up from my seat.

He leans on the doorframe, holding his side. He still has dark circles under his eyes and just looks sickly which is only accentuated by the black zip-up he wore, which was odd for him he never really wore sweaters. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam exclaims his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. Dean limps his way just a little bit further into the room, leaning on a dresser next to the door, “I checked myself out,” he responds placing all his weight on the thing. I didn't even know a sick patient could check themselves out like that. “What, are you crazy?” Sam exclaims.

Dean shrugs, “Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He turns his head to wink at me and gives me that devilish smile. My jaw dropped, baffled wasn't even the word to explain it. This had to be the most Dean Winchester thing Dean could have ever done, I could not fathom it. I wanted to call him an idiot but I was too shocked to give any response. Sam huffs a laugh as he shuts the door, “You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-danger-thing? It’s crap. I can see right through it, we both can.”

Dean moves himself further into the room leaning on anything he could, “Yeah, whatever, dude. Have either of you even slept? You look worse than me.” Sam helps him to the bed, sitting him down, “We’ve been scouring the Internet for the last three days.”

I sit back in my chair, scooting it so I can face them both, “I don't know how either of our laptops survived this. Late at night, I think I can hear it cry.”

Dean purses his lips, “Lack of sleep has made you crazy.” It was my turn to huff a laugh, and for that fraction of a second everything felt normal. But that moment of normalcy breaks as Sam adds, “I’ve also called every contact in Dad’s journal.” I was brought right back to the present, back to the reason we were doing all of this to begin with. “For what?” Dean asks.

“For a way to help you,” Sam explains, “One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

“Wait, why didn't you tell me sooner?” I ask.

“He called back when you were with Dean,” he answers, “I was going to tell you when you came back but didn't get the chance before he decided to break out.” I hum an ‘oh’ in response. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?” Dean chimes in, hunched over.

“I’m not gonna let you die, period. We’re going” Sam says, end of discussion.

The Impala bumps along the gravel road, I was beyond happy we finally arrived. The sky was cloudy and grey with a thin layer of mist clinging to everything, it reflected the past couple of days and the ride quite perfectly. Dean rested in the back seat the entire time, his face scrunched in discomfort, we stopped a couple of times so I could jump back there and heal him for a short while.

The car comes to a full stop among others in a large green field, a large white circus tent stealing the show. A sign nearby reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle. I was skeptical, but like Sam said our options were low. I wasn’t religious and certainly hated when things like this existed, giving people false hope and feeding them lies, when they could be looking at real options and getting real help but I guess I was being a hypocrite considering how I spent my time kneeling to a God I didn't believe in. Many people walked towards it, all sick, some with canes, walkers, breathing devices, etc. I get out of the car slowly, eyeing the scene carefully. We’re all just desperate people, hoping a tent in the middle of nowhere will save our loved ones.

Sam gets out of the car, rounding the vehicle to help his brother get out of the car. Dean grimaces as he tries to lift himself, “I got ya” Sam tells him trying to grab him but Dean shoves him away, “I got it” he spits. He fixes himself, pissed off, but uses the car to hold himself up leaning on it, “Man, you are a lying bastard. ‘Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.”

“I believe I said a specialist” Sam corrects. I squint my eyes at him, “You’re not slick. But…” I say stretching out the word, “We should try, at the very least.”

“And this guy is supposed to be the real deal” Sam adds, nodding. Dean scuffs, rolling his eyes, “I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

An old woman walks by holding a big black umbrella, “Reverend LeGrange is a great man” she declares. “Yeah, that’s nice” Dean sarcastically remarks. I hold back on batting his arm as I would normally, “Be nice” I mumble instead.

We walk away from the old lady and the car heading toward the tent, walking past an angry man who is struggling against an officers hold, “I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he’s milking all these people of their hard-earned money.” I suck in a sharp breath, mumbling an “Amen, brother” underneath my breath. But the Sheriff seems to ignore the man's declaration, holding him back while trying to lead him away, “Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go. Move it.” The man huffs, walking away with the Sheriff. “I take it he’s not part of the flock” Dean remarks.

Sam purses his lips, half shrugging, “When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy.”

Dean stops short, getting our attention and making us stop too, “I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer? And what about you Y/N you don’t believe in this crap.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, “You're right. I don’t. And I think making a whole religion out of it that smells more like a cult than anything, it’s ridiculous. But there’s a good chance this is legit,” I drop my hands back at my side, “He’s probably using magic like I was doing with you, it's just that he's, hopefully, more successful.” He pressed his lips together tightly, I got him there. “See, maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean,” Sam adds.

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean exclaims, “Reality. And this won’t work. I mean do you really think this guy is a dude-witch.”

I purse my lips, “I’m pretty sure the term would be a wizard, but, uh, I don't know. I’d have to see it in action to know for certain along with anything around him while he works, rituals and stuff.” I pause for a moment, thinking it over, “I do hope he’s real and not an elaborate con artist, and I hope he’s better than me at the whole healing thing.” I was being blatantly honest. I hoped it would encourage Dean to not fight this version of help, and I truly did wish this guy could help. “And if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” Sam chimes in, a hint of annoyance on his tongue. A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches, “Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

Dean’s POV

I snapped in a moment of weakness and said too much. “Dean” she sighs, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm, stepping closer to me almost subconsciously. I didn’t want a lecture full of sappy nonsense and corny poetry. She must have known that because she smiled sadly, her lip curving up on one side, my eyes following the movement, “Good does exist, it has to,” she says simply ever the optimist. She tilts her head slightly, looking up at me through her curled eyelashes, her hand still on my arm, my knees feel weak. “I'm sure you can think of at least one good person. Of course, the terms good and evil are subjective…” she cuts her cute rambling off, “but you get what I mean.”

I guess she was right. Sammy’s a good person sometimes a total asshole but I guess that came with the territory of being brothers. And Y/N’s the definition of being a good person, she’s always been kind even to people who didn't deserve it, including me. I remember a couple of times I was cruel to her when we were kids, always about her being a witch, yet for some reason she accepted my apology and even wanted to keep being friends. For a long time, I didn’t understand her, ‘how she could be sweet and smile at a world filled with darkness. Sometimes I think I still don't get her. “Please just give it a try,” she pleads, “And if it doesn't work or turns out to be a con you can make fun of us the whole way back.”

I studied her again, she looked drained and I knew she hadn't been sleeping all because of me. “Fine” I huff. She bites back a smile and suddenly complying with this stupid faith healer was worth it.

“And who knows, maybe God works in mysterious ways” an unfamiliar voice butts in. I didn't care to look who it was, solely focused on the girl who still had her hand on me; a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, one I hadn't seen in three days. “Maybe he does” I respond, half heartily, I look up briefly catching the eyes of an attractive blonde holding a black umbrella. I averted my eyes back to my girl, but she was already looking away at the woman who interrupted us, her hand slipped down my arm.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N” she introduces herself, holding out the hand that was touching me only moments ago. She accepts her hand, “Layla. And these two?” Layla says looking past her. “Sam,” he introduces himself before motioning to me, “Dean.” I give her a tightlipped smile in response.

She smiles at me, “So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?” She was attractive, you’d have to be blind not to see it but my interest is elsewhere. I can't fool myself into thinking that'll work out. Hell, I'm probably gonna end up dead. And yeah, it's harsh, but I can't shake the feeling that I'd rather spend what time I've got with Y/N, not waste it chasing after other girls just to fill the gap she left without even knowing it. I’m self-aware enough to know that. “Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us” I muse. An older woman with blondish-gray hair walks over, putting an arm around the girl, “Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” Both women smile at us before walking away.

“Well, you heard the woman,” Y/N starts, “We should get you inside.” Sam nods leading the way.

Your POV

The tent is packed, full of people trying to find seats, it smells of hope and despair if that’s possible. “Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over,” Dean remarks, nodding over to a camera in the corner. Did churches have cameras? “I guess it makes sense,” I try to reason, “‘probably get more people like that dude outside protesting, maybe even getting violent.”

Dean slips away sitting down on one of the foldable chairs. “Hey no,” I point at him, “You are not gonna be all brooding and hide in the back.” His shoulders slump, “Let’s sit here.”

“No” I answer simply, eyebrows scrunched. He opens his mouth in a retort but his brother steps in, putting an arm around him and practically dragging him from the seat and towards the front, “Oh, come, on, Sam” Dean growls. Mistaking his anger for pain Sam halts in his movements, “You alright?”

“This is ridiculous” Dean bites, slapping his brother’s hands away, “I’m good, dude, get off of me.” I roll my eyes at their behavior, even in public, and even with one of them being severely sick they could still act childish and make a scene. I look around the closer rows, looking for seats, “Look at that” I smile turning back to the boys, “seats” I point to three empty seats not only close to the front but right behind Layla, the girl from before. She seemed nice, maybe a little strange in randomly joining the conversation but it wasn’t a big deal. “Perfect” Sam agrees, lightly shoving his brother in that direction. “Yeah, perfect” Dean remarks, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Take the aisle,” Sam tells his brother before moving into the row of seats, I move in after him taking the seat between them. Dean grumbles something, his face having ‘irritable’ all over it, but he sits quietly, arms crossed.

An old man with white hair and sunglasses steps onto the stage with the help of an older woman with brown hair tied back. He must be the famous Roy LeGrange, “Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says with a classic southern accent, the crowd muttering agreements, “Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

“He could say that aga–'' I began to mumble. “Huh” I hum to myself, my eyes catching on a particular religious item, why would there be a Celtic cross? I mean the cross represented the blending of the Celts and Christians but there are many separations between the two from believing in multiple gods to human sacrifice–

“But, I say to you, God is watching,” he preaches, and if I wasn't so focused on that wooden cross I might have rolled my eyes forgetting my manners, especially when the crowd responded with “Yes he is.” It sounded very cultish, the hair on my arms standing up. Maybe it wasn’t that weird for there to be a Celtic cross, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. I racked my brain for information on it, and I just couldn’t see it used in Christian churches anymore. Though of course, I could be wrong, it's not like I go to church every day or even once a week. But again it felt a little too weird to just brush off–

“God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt” Roy continued getting loud cheering and more murmuring. I look at the people around me strangely, I forget how powerful religion is…

Speaking of which, that damn Celtic cross again. Alright, think. The Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension, the vertical arm represents the life aspect while the horizontal arm signifies death, the circle acting as a portal to transformation. In simpler terms, the cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the Celtic cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. But what does that mean here? Okay, well he’s supposedly healing people which would be the life aspect and the death could represent the healing cheating death? No, that sounded like a stretch. Maybe this was all a stretch and the cross meant nothing. I’m just overreacting because I'm scared of what will become of this if this man was a con or whatever else. Yeah, that makes more sense—

“It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts,” Roy proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers just loud enough for Sam and me to hear, “and into their wallets.” But it wasn’t quiet enough, “You think so, young man?” Oh, that was weird. The crowd falls dead silent, “Sorry” Dean apologizes. “No, no. Don’t be.” Roy shakes his head, “Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” The crowd laughs but an unpleasant feeling worms itself into my stomach. It was innocent enough but something felt off and I don't think it has anything to do with Dean being scrutinized. “What’s your name, son?” Roy asks. He clears his throat, sitting straighter in his seat, “Dean.”

“Dean” Roy repeats nodding to himself, “I want…I want you to come up here with me.” My eyes widened, maybe God finally listened. “No, it’s okay” he shakes his head. “What are you doing?!” Sam whisper-yells, but his brother ignores him.

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy inquires.

“Well, yeah, but, uh…maybe you should just pick someone else” Dean attempts to reason. And I hate the way he doesn't believe he is worthy of saving. The crowd claps loudly, “Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Had we been here for any other reason I might have been more disturbed by that proclamation, but this was a chance. The crowd roars in excitement, voices mixed in encouragement. Dean looks overwhelmed, I place a hand on his knee gaining his attention quickly, “Dean, this is good, go” I whisper to him even though I was unsure of this whole thing and that odd cross. He studies me for half a moment, something I couldn't recognize passing over his features before he reluctantly raises, my hand slipping from his leg.

The woman from before helps Dean to the stage, situating him next to the healer, “You ready?” he asks Dean. “Look, no disrespect, but, uh, I’m not exactly a believer,” Dean says, looking between the crowd and the old man. But Roy just smiles, “You will be, son. You will be,” he turns to the crowd arms raised, “Pray with me, friends.” Again, almost like a cult, the crowd joins hands as Roy moves his hands to place on Dean; one on his shoulder and the other to the side of his head. I hold my breath, I want this to work so badly, I hadn't even begun to think of a plan B if this didn't.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes glaze over, it was never like that when I healed him, and then he seems to wobble sinking to his knees. I gasped, I didn't think it would be so intense or that my heart would beat so fast. A deep chill runs up my spine seeping into my bones, my skin prickles with goosebumps, the Celtic cross comes into view again and I suddenly feel sick, a horrible feeling tangling itself in between my stomach. I don't know where to look the cross or Dean, my eyes flipping between the two rapidly all until Dean's eyes roll back and he crumbles down onto the stage floor. Sam manages to jump over me, using his long legs to his advantage he gets to the stage in seconds grabbing the front of Dean's hoodie. I catch up quickly, glad we were close to the stage, I kneel in front of Dean his head lulling back. The loud noise of the crowd cheering becomes nothing but background noise, as I check his pulse my fingers against the side of his neck the steady but fast beating of his heart thumping below my touch.

With a sudden gasp his eyes shoot open, eyes wide and mouth agape.

I tap my foot impatiently on the clean floors of the hospital, thankful that right after testing I was allowed to be in the room. Dean looked better, he moved normally and his color was back, but we all agreed we should check officially. Now we were waiting and although the room sparked with anxiety, the dark looming cloud had cleared up a lot, and once we knew for sure it would most likely be gone. I just wished the doctor would come quicker. “So, you really feel okay?” Sam asks for the hundredth time since Dean woke from being healed yesterday. Dean stares at him blankly, “I feel fine, Sam” he grumbles.

Finally, the Doctor walks in, reading from the charts on his clipboard, “Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still strange things happen.” The cloud fades away, and I don’t hold back my beaming smile. “What do you mean, strange?” Dean asks, his face serious rather than elated. “Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack,” the doctor shares. Dean nods, giving the man a handshake, “Thanks, Doc.” The man leaves, closing the door behind him. “That’s odd,” Dean points out, referring to what the doctor said.

“Maybe it's a coincidence,” Sam shrugs, “People's hearts give out all the time, man.” I looked at him taken aback, what was he talking about, “Dude, what world are you living in?” He gives me a pointed look, annoyed with not only my response but also my not agreeing with him, “Do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life, Dean, and move on?”

“Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why” Dean bites back. I sigh, wishing we could just avoid this all, “Me neither.” Dean gives me a strange look, “You neither?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I just, I don’t know, when we sat down I recognized something which automatically made me suspicious. Then you know the whole thing was happening and, well, maybe it was just nerves but it got really cold and I felt sort of sick. Which really doesn't make sense, but I just had this weird feeling, I don’t know.”

“I felt cold too,” Dean answers, face scrunched, “When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong, ‘cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit.” Maybe it wasn’t nerves and I wasn’t crazy. Sam huffs, clearly trying to ignore the red flags here, “But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately.”

“Alright, but he literally saw something and I felt something.” I reason, “You can’t deny two people saying something’s up, and whatever it was there’s probably a reason why you couldn’t see it.”

“You’re just gonna need a little faith on this one, Sam” Dean muses, using his own words against him. Sam sighs, finally giving in, “Yeah, alright. So, what do you wanna do?”

Dean steps into the leader role again, as if nothing had happened, “I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. Y/N, we’re gonna visit the reverend.”

I sit next to Dean on the nice leather couch, Roy sitting across from us. He and his wife had been very understanding and didn’t question our want to speak to him about yesterday, I figure he got this a lot. “I feel great,” Dean answers the reverend, “Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.”

“A miracle is what happened,” Sue Ann, Roy’s wife and the woman from before answered, “Well, miracles come so often around Roy.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and nod, maybe it was just me but that response came off a little weird. I was getting a bad vibe from her, “So, um, when did these miracles start?” I ask Roy. Any desire to possibly learn from him had been subdued, caution taking its place. “Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'” He smiled sweetly at his wife before continuing, “I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” He takes off his black sunglasses, his eyes pure white, “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.” He puts the glasses back on, it was a touching story and his eyes added a horrifying touch but it just left more questions.

He seemed genuine, and I don’t think he would lie about being in a coma. When you’re sick like that, and experience something like that, you don’t create lies about your experience, not when it was traumatic like that. And staying on that belief, there was no way he suddenly just stopped having cancer and was able to heal people. He couldn’t have been responsible for whatever caused his initial health change. Which would then mean someone else was involved. “So then, you could just…heal people?” I ask.

“I discovered it afterward, yes,” he nods, "God's blessed me in many ways.” It didn’t add up. I couldn’t get it to add up in my head. Besides the whole no more sickness ideal, how could he just suddenly heal someone? I mean, how do you even discover you can? Was it an accident? Did the hypothetical person who might have caused him to get better tell him too? Or, tell him to try? Whereas for me I knew it was something I was capable of in general as a witch, but I also had many spell books, history books, journals, and everything to learn from. And if my mother had lived longer she would have been able to teach me it too.

“And his flock just swelled overnight,” Sue Ann added, her eyes full of endearment, “And this is just the beginning.” I study her for a moment, balancing on the thin line of suspicion and paranoia. There was nothing inherently wrong about her or what she said, and maybe it was my mind making up the fact that her last words were just a little aggressive.

“Can I ask you one last question?” Dean asks, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Of course you can,” Roy responded sincerely. He really does seem like a nice guy, genuine, and it could be my inherent lack of sleep that’s making me connect dots that might not even be there. “Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” My heart broke. Of course he didn’t feel adequate, especially when he tried convincing us for the last four days he wasn't worth saving, that we should give up and let him die. I place a careful hand on his knee, I don’t want to scare him away or clam up again, he never was very open. “Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me,” Roy answers, “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

Dean wets his lips, my eyes flickering up to the movement, he leans forward slightly, “What did you see in my heart?” I move my gaze away catching on Sue Ann’s innocent movement of picking up her glass of water, but as she leans over her necklace escapes from its place beneath her shirt. A small wooden Celtic Cross held by a thin silver chain, she catches my eyes, covering the cross with her hand and giving me an innocent smile. She assumes I would think it's just any ol’ cross, she does run religious ceremonies so such a simple totem shouldn’t mean anything else. Maybe there were dots to connect after all, and it was on full display ready to be fastened. I focused my attention back on the conversation, I left my bag in the car so I’d have to wait, and in the meanwhile, I did not wish for her to get suspicious of me either.

Roy smiles softly, “A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.” I feel Dean tense beneath my hand, his face full of shock. Whether Roy did see something or not, it might have been the thing Dean needed to hear regardless.

I wanted to run back to the car and look through my spell book and journal, but Sue Ann was seeing us out and if I had easily become suspicious of her then it was possible she would grow suspicious of what I knew too. I could almost feel her gaze burning into the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Dean's warm hand on the small of my back leading me down the short wooden stairs of their porch. But I had not expected to see Layla and the woman she was with before, I think her mother. “Dean, Y/N, hey,” she greets. “Hey,” Dean responds just as we reach ground level, his hand pressing further into my back before curling around my waist, his hand lying on my side before he pushes me closer against him. I don’t know why he was being so touchy, not that I was exactly complaining. I welcomed it and the warmth it brought.

“How ‘you feeling?” She asks him, tilting her head slightly, her face beaming in sincerity. “I feel good. Cured, I guess. What are you doing here?” he responds.

“You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend.” Layla nods toward the door prompting Sue Ann to step fully onto the porch rather than standing halfway between the screen door. “Layla?” she asks, probably not having seen her from where she stood. “Yes, I'm here again,” Layla answers softly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now.” Sue Ann informed, nodding sympathetically. Every word she said just made me want to turn around and head to the car, I was itching for it. I wondered if Dean could feel it from where he was touching me or just sensed it, giving me a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. But I couldn’t exactly say anything right now so I ignored his look.

“Sue Ann, please,” Layla’s mom pleads, “This is our sixth time, he's got to see us.”

“Roy is well aware of Layla's situation,” Sue Ann declares harshly, “And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke.” And with that, she goes back inside. I might not know exactly what’s going on but her continuous frustrated comments regarding the healing and her perhaps overly religious nature were enough to make me antsy. We should really go to the car, call Sam to see what he found, or even just head to the hotel. Layla’s mom turns sharply to Dean, glaring at him she spits, “Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted.”

“Mom. Stop” Layla insists, looking at us nervously.

“No, Layla, this is too much” her mom fumed, “We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder.” I do feel bad for her, but it's not like we had control over any of this so she shouldn't be mad at us let alone Dean who was quite literally on his deathbed and might not have made it to the end of the week. I open my mouth to say exactly that, but Dean cuts me off before I get a chance, “Layla, what’s wrong?” he asks.

She looks everywhere but him, “I have this thing…”

“It's a brain tumor,” her mother cuts in bluntly, “It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say…” Layla cuts her mom off putting a hand on her shoulder. Maybe it was good Dean didn’t let me say what I wanted to, it would’ve been too cruel to do that to someone who was going to lose her daughter. It seemed like we were surrounded by death, more now than ever and I hadn’t thought that could be possible. I didn’t like death, or sickness though I suppose who does. “I'm sorry” Dean says, and I just nod in agreement not trusting my own voice. “It's okay” Layla responds softly. Her mother shakes her head slowly, “No. It isn't,” her sharp gaze is back on Dean, “Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?” Then she storms away, Layla hesitantly following. I know that woman was just upset and projecting her anger but it was not fair. Grief isn’t fair.

I look at Dean, his jaw clenched tightly, a slight furrow of his brow, his eyes a little far away in thought. I recognized that look. “Don’t listen to her” I declare, slipping from his hold to look at him straight on, “Death is not kind and it is not just, but you deserve to live. You deserve to live just as much as Layla or anyone else does. I know that look and I know you're thinking poorly of yourself, which I hate that you do so ‘cause you’re amazing and brave and kind and you care so much for others regardless of your gruff attitude.” His eyes are wide and written with shock but I continue, “So don’t think for one second that you don’t deserve to live.” I didn’t realize my chest was heaving, or that a lump had formed in my throat. I’ve watched too many people die, I’ve been down the rabbit hole of grief. I knew it well, it became a second skin. And I've watched someone run themselves into the ground because they didn’t feel like they deserved to live, or at least not when the love of their life was dead. I watched the evolution of that grief while dealing with my own and my brother’s. Death was not kind.

His jaw was slack with surprise and I know I said too much, I gave him a sharp awkward nod before turning around and heading for the car. I have something to look into.

Dean throws his keys on the bed the second we enter, the soft jingle of the metal ringing through the quiet room. I unzipped my sweatshirt, making my way towards Sam who sat at the small table to the side of the room. I take a seat next to him, putting my sweater behind me, “So what’d you find?” He seems hesitant to answer, his adam's apple bobbing, “Um, I’m sorry Dean” he says weakly looking up at his brother.

Dean takes his jacket off putting it on top of mine, his face written in confusion, “Sorry about what?” he asks, leaning on the back of my chair, his knuckles just barely brushing my back. Sam huffs out a breath, “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.” My eyes widened, I shouldn’t be surprised it was just another dot to be connected to whatever was going on with the damn cross. “The exact time I was healed” Dean adds solemnly, voicing what we were all thinking.

“Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits,” Sam explains, “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

“Oh frick” I mumble, apparently nothing is allowed to be easy for us. And I wasn’t exactly expecting that to be what we’re dealing with. “Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?” Dean asks for confirmation, even though it’s clear that’s what’s going on. “Somehow. LeGrange…” Sam sighs, “he's trading a life for another.”

Dean stands up straight backing away from the table, from Sam, “Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?” Sam shakes his head, “Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.”

“You never should've brought me here.” Dean declares, running a hand down his face.

“Dean, I was just trying to save your life.” Sam reasons.

“But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.”

“I didn't know,” Sam answers quietly.

I stand up abruptly, “Hey, there’s nothing we can do about that now. What’s done is done.” This all got very complicated very quickly, maybe Adeline was right you can’t save someone from death without making difficult decisions and sacrifices. “But what we can do is stop this from happening again, before it gets worse” I add and I know I don’t sound so convincing. You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, and we had crossed that line whether intentionally or not, just wanting to save Dean from death was already putting a foot past that line. “That’s the thing I don't understand, how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?” Sam questions. “Oh, he’s not doing it,” Dean answers, “Something else is doing it for him.”

“Do you mean the thing with Sue Ann?” I ask with a tilt of my head, maybe he had picked up on it too. “What?” his face contorts in confusion, “No? What are you talking about?”

“Oh” I say, now I'm confused, “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“What are both of you talking about?!” Sam exclaims looking between us. Dean sighs, pinching the space between his brows, “The old man I saw on stage” he explains, “I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew.” He pauses and I begin to wonder if it’s for dramatic affect. I motion my hand for him to continue and he does, “There’s only one thing that can give and take life like that. We’re dealing with a Reaper.”

“Pardon?” I say, my mouth agape. “Yeah,” Sam agrees, face just as shocked as I am, “You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

“No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper.” Dean clarifies, taking the seat I once occupied, “There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” My mouth still hangs open, it can never be something normal with us, ever. “But you said you saw a dude in a suit,” Sam voiced.

“What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?” Dean countered, “You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you guys couldn't.”

“Oh my god,” I say, the realization finally hitting me, “That’s where it comes in!” Both boys stare at me confused, “Where what comes in?” Sam asks.

“Okay, remember I said I recognized something and thought it was a little strange,” I paused waiting for them to nod before continuing, “It was a Celtic Cross, which was all I could focus on the entire time ‘cause like what is it doing there. And then I started thinking of what it symbolizes, here’s the interesting part” I point out, “So basically, the Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension. The cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. Which now makes total sense with the whole Reaper thing.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m not following here” Dean admits. I huff a laugh, “Right. Let me get to the point. So, as far as I know someone has to control the Reaper to, you know, dictate who lives and dies and to do that you need a spell. And I’ve seen it before…” I head over to my bag that I had just plopped down right next to the door when we walked in, I pull out my spell book holding it up, “This book has been in my family for generations. Now as you know my mother and her family didn’t see eye to eye, so when it eventually became my mothers and she ran away she changed a lot of stuff in here, crossing things out etc.” I open the book, flicking through the pages, “Basically there’s some pretty dark stuff in here, straight up black magic, some stuff even ancient,” finally I find the page, “Aha!” I turn the book around pointing at the page, “As you can see by the frowny face in the corner my mother did not appreciate this spell. Anyways, this is a binding spell for a Reaper where you create a black alter with bones and human blood etc, you get the point. You can then control it with a Celtic Cross, and before I saw Sue Ann with the necklace.”

“So you think Sue Ann is using dark magic to control a Reaper and kill people to save people because you saw a necklace?” Sam asks. I close the book, “Yeah, and it makes sense she was desperate when her husband was sick. I don’t know how I didn’t think of this sooner.” I knew this page existed, I've seen it in passing multiple times, especially some time since Dean was in the hospital. I guess I did listen to Adeline’s warning because even though I was ready to go far to save him I had kept away from pages like this. “Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean points out. I shrug, “Money? She’s psycho? I don’t know, maybe there’s a connection with the victims.”

“How would we break it?” Sam voices.

“We gotta get that cross from her, the one around her neck” I answer, “And let me just add, that Reaper is gonna be pissed, I mean the second it gains back its control…” I don’t need to say it out loud for them to get what I mean.

The Impala bounces down the badly graveled and potholed road, passing a sign that says Service Today. Hopefully we will be just in time. Dean brings the car to a stop and wordlessly we exit, “How do we get Sue Ann alone?” Sam asks. I nervously tap the side of my legs as we approach the tent, some guy handing out leaflets stops us, “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer.” Dean accepts the paper, “Amen brother” he nods. “You keep up the good work” Sam points at the man and he looks taken aback, he probably didn’t get many if any people that agreed. “Thank you,” he says, surprised.

Focusing back on the task at hand I open my mouth about to say something about not knowing where she goes when she does the spell when I spot her near the side of the tent, “I see her” I say already moving in that direction, “Find her spell book and keep Roy distracted too in case this does not work.” I don’t wait to hear a response before I’m running off to catch up with the woman playing God, “Sue Ann!” I call as I approach. She turns, her eyes wide, the necklace peeking out from her blouse, “Hi Y/N, what are you doing back here?” she asks sweetly.

“Oh well you guys are doing such amazing stuff here, wanted to say thank you one last time before we had to head off” I answered hoping my lie was believable. “Don’t thank us, you just thank the Lord” She says pointing to the night sky. I nod, I had to keep her talking long enough to figure out how to get the necklace off, “I have to admit I always had a hard time believing in the man upstairs, but you and Roy really turned me around.”

“Oh I’m glad, it’s never too late to welcome Him into your heart,” she smiles, “Now if you’ll excuse me I must get going, the sermon is starting.” Uh oh, do I just rip it off of her? No, she’s already turning around, “One last thing!” I call out getting her attention again. This time when she turns around she looks annoyed, “Uh, um…”come on Y/N come up with a lie or something, “I saw your necklace earlier today, I think you caught me staring,” I laugh, “I was just…I was wondering where you got it from I’ve never seen something like that before.” She clasps her necklace, “It’s just an old thing, I don’t remember where I got it from.”

“Could I maybe take a closer look at it? Maybe I can find a replica, you know, for my new found belief.” I was practically begging her to just let this be easy, maybe I should ask Dean to give me a lesson on finessing cause this is not working. She clasps it tighter, “I’m sorry, maybe later I really have to help with the sermon now.”

“Right, right sorry” she begins to turn around again but I call out again, “I know you said to thank the Lord and I have and will, it’s just” that gets her attention, “I feel like you and Roy are also responsible and like I said I came to thank you again…I know it’s maybe unprofessional or what not, but, could I just give you a hug? You’ve really done so much for us.” God I was bad at this. Her face softens a fraction, hey maybe I wasn’t bad at this, “Of course.” She holds out her arms and I move closer to allow myself to be embraced, I wrap my arms near her neck hoping she couldn’t feel the tension in my body. “Thank you” I say softly, all the while sneaking my hand to the clasp of her necklace.

She pulls away abruptly, once more grasping her necklace, “What is wrong with you!” she exclaims. I back up, hands up in defense, “After everything we’ve done to help you, healing your boy” she glares at me with wide eyes, “I never expected this from you Y/N.” I stare at her blankly, do I jump her? “You get out of here, before I call over those officers. Looks like your boy is already in trouble too. Disappointing, both of you.”

I look over my shoulder, Dean’s being pushed away by two cops and there’s a large crowd surrounding the tent including Roy. Maybe they evacuated. I turn back to Sue Ann but she’s already pushing past me, heading to the crowd. Oh no. Layla walks up to him next and she seems to be upset with him. How much did I miss? I rush towards Dean, Layla walking away, “What did you do?” I whisper yell. “You said to distract Roy!” he argues.

“I didn’t mean to get in trouble with the police!”

“‘Don’t matter, did you get it?” Dean asks with a quirked eyebrow. “No,” I grumble, “She caught me in my attempt and started lecturing me, I was thinking of just jumping her before she pointed out your run in with the police.”

“You were gonna jump the woman?!” He exclaims.

“I didn’t know what to do!!” I hissed, “And it’s not like I did it!” I let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my arms across my chest, “We need a new plan, where’s Sammy?”

“‘Think he’s waiting by the car, ‘hope he’s got somethin’ Roy’s gonna do a private healing session with Layla tonight.”

“Great,” I mumble, “I really should have jumped her.”

I sit criss cross applesauce on the hard motel bed. For a hunt that I knew so much about I had royally blown it. She was right there. The necklace right there. “Please tell me you found something helpful in their home” I pleaded.

“I found the spell book, written by a priest who went dark side,” Sam answers, holding up the small book, “And she isn’t just killing random people. She’s forcing the Reaper to kill people she finds immoral, from some teacher who was openly gay to a woman who advocated for abortion rights.” The room fell quiet for a moment, there were more layers to this than we thought. “May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work” Dean muses.

“No seriously that’s messed up,” I add, shaking my head. “Yeah,” Sam nods, “I think you should hold onto this book Y/N.” He hands it over and I hold it cautiously in my hand, “How nice.” I’ll probably spend the next couple of days reading it over before ultimately sending it home, I did not need a spell book on dark magic with me, didn't even need to own it but rather me than get in the wrong hands.

“We should head back soon” Dean says, “Layla could be there any minute”

The Impala rolls over the graveled road for the second and hopefully final time today, this time with total darkness cloaking us no lights on. We roll to a stop, “That's Layla's car. She's already here,” Sam points out.

Dean nods slowly, “Yeah.” He was upset, “Dean…” Sam began. But Dean ignores him, looking out the window instead, “You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a coupla’ months.” I should’ve known my dramatic speech from before wouldn’t magically resolve him of his guilt, no one has that power. “What's happening to her is horrible,” Sam reasons, “But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.”

Dean goes quiet for a beat before getting out of the car, Sam and I following. We approach the tent, peeking inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of people including Layla and her mom, “Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean whispers. I tried to crane my neck to look around the tent, maybe she was off to the side somewhere… “House,” Sam answers simply.

We creep up to the small house, weary of making too much noise we couldn’t afford to get caught, “You guys go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up,” Dean orders. I look at him confused, “Wait, what are you gonna—“ But Dean’s already backing away from us yelling, “Hey!” to two figures in the distance. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?” he yells out, of course he would be taunting the police. The officers drop what looks to be coffee cups before running after him, Dean taking off at full speed. Only he would do something so stupid. “Uh, anyways” I begin, “If she’s doing it at her house she’s probably by the altar, and considering the size and necessities of the thing and the fact her husband doesn't know it would have to be in an attic or basement.”

“I’ll offer you one better” Sam nods off to the side of the building, “a cellar.” He was right, that would be better. And on top of that definite light emerges from the metal doors. Sam leads the way opening up the heavy doors and propping it open as he makes his way down first. I follow suit immediately being hit with the sight that is the altar, a small table adorned with candle operas filled by tall burning candles, parts of dead animals, bones and blood sprawled out meticulously across the red table cloth. And right in the middle was a black and white surveillance photo of Dean before he was healed, the photo smeared in blood.

“I gave him life and I can take it back too” A familiar voice suddenly says. Sue Ann. I turn around hastily being met with cold eyes, behind me I hear a large crash and I don’t have to look to know Sam had flipped over the table. Her eyes flip to the scene and I use the initial shock to rush her, but she was already close to the stairs so it did not take her long to sweep up them slamming the cellar doors behind her. Something clicks and shifts, she must have locked us in here. Sam joins me at my side, pushing and fighting against the barred doors. “Can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked,” she reasons, “And Dean is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will.”

Oh, so that twisted psycho thinks that’s how it is. Well she messed with the wrong witch. “You're gonna wanna back up” I tell Sam. I press my palms to the cold metal of the doors, I’m pissed now. No one gets to use magic, let alone dark magic, on either of my boys. The doors begin to rattle harshly, almost as if there’s an earthquake, “Goodbye Sam, Y/N” she says. I put more force on the door, my entire being focused on it until it burst open bits of chipped paint and screws flying away, a satisfying break of the wood she used to block us ringing in my ears as broken bits of the wood come crashing back down.

Sue Ann stands but a couple feet away, her eyes wide as she watches me exit the cellar with shock and fear. She backs up further and I follow after her like a predator trapping its prey. “I-I read about things like you” she says weakly, her voice shaking. She keeps backing up, “You’re a—You’re a—“ her back hits the wall of a nearby trailer house. “Witch” I finished for her, yanking off that necklace once and for all.

I throw it off to the side, far away, and back up from her. My job was done and the Reaper would come knocking for its own revenge. “My God, what have you done?,” she heaves, pressing a hand to where her necklace used to be. “He’s not your God” Sam says cooly. Her head snaps to something in the distance, her face falls growing pale she must be seeing the Reaper. Then all at once she takes off running, not making it very far before she falls to her knees, her body convulsing once, twice, before falling to the ground. “I think we have just aided in her murder” I muse.

“Yeah…” Sam nods, “We should probably…” This time I nod, not saying anything as we walk away from the crime heading back in the direction of the Impala. We intercept Dean on the way, meeting at the car. I give him a small thumbs up to say we did it this time and he nods solemnly. “You okay?” Sam asks him.

“Hell of a week” he answers.

I glanced up from my phone for the fifth time in the last minute. I was trying to text Adeline to update her on everything but kept getting distracted by Dean's blank face as he stared off at nothing while sitting in bed. I made eye contact with Sam, giving him a sad smile, we were thinking the same thing. He turns to his brother, watching him for a moment before speaking, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean replies gruffly. Sam looks back at me again and I give him an encouraging nod, “What is it?” he asks again this time more gently.

“We did the right thing here didn't we?” Dean asks, finally breaking. It was difficult to answer him, on one hand we stopped someone from playing God and killing people who they found immoral in which none of the victims were bad people, it wasn’t like they were criminals but to her they were still wicked (god forbid someone has a different opinion than you). But on the other hand it was saving people, except to pay one life for another wasn’t exactly gracious work. Yet, we were doing the same thing, trying to play God and cheat death. I had even admitted to being willing to make great scarface’s to do so, in that aspect I wasn’t so different from Sue Ann in the very beginning.

“Of course we did,” Sam answers, and he really does sound sure. Dean sighs, hanging his head, “It doesn't feel like it.” Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and the parallel from only earlier in the week is not lost on me, “I got it” Sam volunteers getting up from his seat to open the door, “Hey Layla. Come on in.”

Huh.

“Hey” she waves awkwardly. Dean quickly rises from his place on the bed, “How did you know we were here?”

“Sam...called. He said you...wanted to say goodbye?”

Dean glances at Sam and I join in on the glaring, he really needs to start telling me things sooner. But he just smiles sheepishly, “I'm gonna...grab a soda.”

I stand abruptly from my chair, Dean should have his time with Layla. Maybe he won’t feel as guilty, “I’m gonna join you” I declare, “A soda sounds great!” I follow Sam out the door, closing it behind me.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello Can I request angst story? The reader's own family has been abusing the reader for a long time, but (love) doesn't know it. reader and ( love ) had arguments and it got to the point where ( love ) said that he wished reader would just disappear. later, the feud between the reader's family became heated, and it got to the point where they pushed the reader from the hotel window and she fell into a statue of an angel. ( If you know the kdrama the penthouse, I got the idea from that ).

Lubu, thor, poseidon, hades, buddha, hercules and jack the ripper.

By the way, Belated merry christmas and happy new year💜🎉

-This wasn’t real- it couldn’t be! He didn’t believe it!

-But there you were, dead, your body being pulled by the police and paramedics off a large stone angel statue, the one that was in the garden outside the apartment building you shared with your family.

-His heart was in his ears, pounding so loudly he couldn’t hear anything else; his eyes were locked on your limp body. The statue was cracked and one of the wings had been broken off- you had fallen from a great height.

-His gaze looked up, seeing the caution tape outside the balcony of your family’s apartment, since it was a crime scene.

-Your family- where was your family?

-Eyes went wide as he saw your parents and your siblings, those you had been telling him about for so long, how they weren’t the nicest to you, being led out in handcuffs.

-Your father was screaming, looking almost pleased, “Yeah, I did it! And I’m glad I did it! That waste of space was totally useless! Y/N tried to leave us when we’d done everything for them! I’m glad I tossed them over-” he was quickly muffled and silenced by the police while your siblings seemed to be laughing and your mother was more worried about getting her dress wrinkled.

-(Love’s) eyes were wide, hearing this, hearing that your family had killed you- they had shoved you out the window.

-His eyes were wide, looking back towards you, seeing your body on a stretcher, covered with a sheet as he felt like his heart stopped, going completely quiet, as his stomach dropped.

-You had been a little ‘clingy’ here as of late, wanting to stay over at his place almost all the time- not that he minded as you did help cook and clean. You would always beg him to let you stay, not wanting to go home as you told him, over and over, that your family wasn’t being nice to you.

-He wished he had believed you. He wished he could take back those harsh words, after he had been irritated about something else and took it out on you when you asked if you could stay the night, “I wish you would just leave me alone!”

-He remembers your heartbroken gaze, he did nothing as you got your things and left without saying goodbye, and now you were dead.

-(Love) found out later that your family had been abusing you for so long, and the reason you had been spending so much time over at his place was because it was a safe place for you- no pain, no yelling, you were safe.

-He ruined it, he had yelled at you, taking out his anger unfairly on you, when you were already being hurt and yelled at when you went home. He ruined your safe space- he chased you off.

-He wished he had listened to you- listened to your words, as you had never outright said it, but you had always hoped he would get what you were saying, because you were scared.

-Every instance of him blowing off your requests, sending you home, every plead and offer to do things around his home to let you stay, each one chipped at his heart.

-He failed you; you had been silently begging him for help for as long as you had been dating, over two years now, and he didn’t get the hint once.

-Your family was charged with your murder as well as your abuse, but they were more concerned about their reputation, as their pictures were all over the news, everyone knew what they did to you, but they had no remorse- they never did.

-But (Love) did, he regretted not listening to you more closely, not paying attention when you were walking around a bit stiffly, from the bruises, he regrets sending you back to them and he regrets chasing you away.

-Your family wasn’t going to see the light of day again, he was going to make sure of it, and if they ever got out, he was going to kill them himself with his bare hands. They snuffed out your beautiful light, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. He visits your grave every day, keeping it clean and putting fresh flowers on it, and he would sit and talk to you, like you were still here with him. The first time he broke down, finally breaking and letting his guilt out, sobbing into his hands with regret, he could have sworn he felt your arms around his neck, hugging him close, resting your head on top of his own, but when he looked up, there was nothing there. He would never forgive himself for what he caused.

            -Poseidon, Thor, Jack, Hades, and Lu Bu

-Wept every day for you, willing and wishing anything he could to bring you back, to have you in his arms again. His grief ate at him, keeping him locked inside his home, the same home he could have shared with you, had he been more preceptive. He would never forgive himself- he’s the one that caused this in his eyes, as he drove you away, back into the arms of those who hurt you for so long. His chest hurt, nothing brought him joy as he held a photograph close to his chest, one the two of you took almost a year ago. Looking at it always made him feel better, seeing you both smiling so brightly together, you were both so happy. It always made him cry now, looking at it, because he would never know that beautiful smile again, he would never know your warmth again. He was lost without you.

-Buddha and Hercules

[jojikawa]

Vash the Stampede x Starfire!reader

Vash the Stampede and a Fem/Fem-bodied reader who is an Alien Princess that ends up in Noman's Land!

dividers

Vash didn’t expect to see many other forms of life apart from Homosapiens. Humans. The standard stuff. Before Meryl, Roberto, and Nicolas, he was mostly on his own. It was hard to separate himself from his brother who would terrorize everyone. They were twins, after all. So, when he came across you, someone who clearly wasn’t human, he was extremely surprised. Just at a glance, he wasn’t able to tell exactly what you were but it didn’t seem good at all. You were humanoid which was identifiable enough, looking similar to a human woman. Vash only learned of you because there was a huge commotion of “some chick” going around and terrorizing a large settlement.

At first, Vash believed it to be Naï before he learned it was a woman. When he finally came in contact with you, he saw how distressed you looked. Your body language showed it all.

Vash was the only person who could restrain you because everyone else wanted to deal with you through violence. Although bullets didn’t have any effect on your diamond skin, they made you much angrier and that would only put more people in danger. He tried over and over to talk to you but you were unable to understand his language, so he communicated the only way he knew that worked.

He pressed his forehead to yours lovingly, hands holding either side of your head. It was an odd gesture but it worked for the plants…and it was the only way to keep you from headbutting him. Lucky enough for him, it worked! You seemed to calm down. Although, it wasn’t because of his thoughtful gesture. You just became extremely confused and eventually docile. Then he removed your cuffs.

“My name is Vash. Can you tell me your name? Where you’re from? I can take you home.”

The only thing Vash received in response was a cute head tilt from you. At first, he believed you to be mute until you actually began speaking. 

“Zu’u krosis nuz Zu’u nis mindoraan hi.”

“Eh!?” Vash sweatdropped with a blush of embarrassment covering his face. He’s never heard a language like that before. You beckoned him to bend down to your height and once he obliged, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss made his cheeks turn red and burn with delight!

When you pulled away, Vash stepped back. You held your fingertips over your lips. “Mmm…V-Va-sh?” You repeated, broken English and all before correctly saying his name. “Vash.”

You smiled kindly. “I am sorry if I’ve startled you with my actions. It was the only way I could learn your language.”

Vash, now astonished at your ability to speak perfectly, could only stare and fumble over his words. “I-I…uh *ahem* No problem!” He rubbed the nap of his neck with his prosthetic arm. “Can you tell me where I am in the solar system?” You asked politely.

Your new escort noticed that your attire was extremely different. It was skimpy but tattered as if you had just escaped from somewhere. 

“You’re on Noman’s land—H-Hey, you should put something on! It gets really cold here at night.” Vash began to remove his jacket. “Why are you giving this to me? Does it not belong to you?” You allowed him to place his cloak around your shoulders, closing it just a bit to hide your body. It was very much clear now that you weren’t human but your body was extremely humanoid with assets similar to a human female. Your appearance could be considered distracting given that your clothes were partially destroyed, leaving yourself for all to see.

“T-Trust me. You need it way more.”

You looked down at yourself, unsure of what he was referring to. You dismissed it, carrying on the conversation. “Can you please inform me of what the ‘land of no men is’?” You looked around for a brief moment. “Just at a glance, I can see that this place is nearly uninhabitable. Is that the origin or ‘no men’ and if so, why are you here?”

Vash laughed awkwardly. “It’s a long story. First, we need to—“

“Hey!”

The two of you were interrupted by a group of people. They had guns, all pointed at you. They surrounded the both of you and the circle grew ever smaller.

“Out of the way, Vash.” An older woman motioned her gun to the side. “It’s best we trade this gal for a new plant.”

The confrontation made you furrow your eyebrows. Your eyes began to glow. “Do not worry, I will handle the hostiles.”

Vash didn’t know at all what you were trying to do but he could tell you would easily kill these people. “N-No! Wait!” He threw out his arms, trying to cease the conflict between you and the citizens of this run-down village.

Unfortunately, at the same time, the people fired their guns, and lasers shot from your eyes. You would have killed the ones in front of you if Vash didn’t tackle you. Neither of you were hit by the bullets

“What are you doing?” You questioned, pushing him off of you. “I’m protecting them! Dot hurt them!” The man begged. 

“Last chance! Give her over.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Vash, why are you protecting these inhabitants? They are using lethal force on me while you are in the crossfire.”

Vash got up from on top of you before quickly turning to your attackers. “Guys, it’s okay! I’ll fix the plant and you’ll never see her again!”

And that’s how your relationship with Vash the Stampede began. He somehow convinced the townsfolk to let you go despite the damage you caused. You began traveling with him on his adventures and met new humans called Meryl, Roberto, and Nicolas.

They all had their different opinions of you. Roberto wanted nothing to do with you, only believing you’d bring more trouble. I mean, why did you show up the way you did? Yeah, no. Anyways. 

Meryl believed you were important somehow. Vash told her how the two of you met. It would make an amazing story! She asked you many things, even about your homeland. Of course,  she was skeptical at first, but who isn’t?

Nicolas thought you were the cutest. He loved teasing you with words and phrases you didn’t know or failed to understand. He nicknamed you “firecracker” because of your temper.

Yet, not all of them knew your story. Your real story. Being a gentleman, Vash didn’t want to pry, even if you were an illegitimate couple. He felt loyal to you somehow because of your circumstances and he was the only person you ever kissed to expand on the human language. That means you two cared about each other, yeah? There seemed to be some kind of boundary. 

The lot of you settled down for the night with a campfire. The humans were tired and didn’t want to spend the night driving. They were hungry as well.

Meryl wanted to know more about the attack that ensued when you first arrived. She claimed that it would make a good story, even telling you that she could possibly be promoted from it so, naturally, you felt obligated to help one of your friends. The small group began to grow on you and made you feel as though you could trust him.

As you told your story, Vash couldn’t help but give you a sad look. You turned out to be such a nice person and he couldn’t believe the situation you were in.

You sighed. “I have learned that my native tongue is nearly impossible for lower life forms to pronounce. That is why I have you call me (y/n) instead.” You ignored Roberto taking a swig of his drink with a big sigh. “I am from a planet that is…light years away. I am considered to be its leader. Like…a princess of sorts.” 

Meryl almost choked on her water. “A princess!? I have to write this down…” 

“You’re a princess?” Your partner tilted his head, his eyebrows raising at your statements. You silently nodded. Your gaze fell into your lap. “We were invaded by hostile life forms who tried to enslave our people. To keep bloodshed to a minimum, I tried to form an agreement with the invaders.” Your gaze shifted to the side, looking at the distant sandy wasteland. You hadn’t properly processed the whole situation. “We didn’t believe the agreement wouldn’t last long so…my twin sister sold me to them to ensure her own freedom once they attacked again.”

“Evil twin?” Roberto raised an eyebrow. “We have enough of those already.”

“There’s…space wars? Do you hear this?” Meryl glanced at Roberto who shook his head in response. “Not the time, newbie.”

Meryl jumped. “S-Sorry…I’m sorry that your sister sold you out like that.” Nicolas tsk’d, pulling out a new cigarette to satisfy his urges. “Your sister sounds like a real bitch.”

Bitch? You’ve never heard that word before.

“Bitch..?” You repeated. You turned to Vash. “May I…?” You pointed to your lips, signaling to him something no one else could understand. “Y-Yeah, sure.” 

The humanoid typhoon felt butterflies in his abdomen and his chest burn whenever you wanted to “learn a new word.”

The trio watched as you and Vash closed the distance between each other, kissing each other deeply. It only lasted for a second. You smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Turning to Nicolas, you nodded your head. “I agree. My sister is a ‘real bitch’.”

Vash laughed awkwardly, not at all expecting you to say the word so well. Meryl was even more confused. “What was that?!”

“What was…what?”

“You kissin’ needle noggin,” Nicolas smirked at you, giving you new and different vibes. It was still hard for you to read someone like him. “Needle noggin…? Oh! You mean Vash! On my planet, we can learn languages through lip contact. Vash is my translator.”

Meryl held a surprised expression for a moment before exhaling loudly. “Phew! I thought he was your boyfriend!”

“Boy…friend!?”

“Kissing or ‘lip contact’ is something that people who are a couple do. We…aren’t a couple.” Vash leaned over and spoke close to your ear. It seems that your customs could be mistaken as romantic.

“What’s wrong with Vash being my boy-friend?”

Meryl shrugged. “I mean, if it’s true that you’re some alien princess then Vash is the most unlikely person to be your lover in my opinion…right?” She laughed, elbowing Roberto who didn’t humor her.

To be honest, Vash felt the same way. You were almost…exotic in a way. Who knew that out of all people in the world, he would get along with you: someone who isn’t even from this world! The plant nicknamed the “Humanoid Typhoon”, cast aside without being given a second thought, knew what it was like to feel wanted by someone! In a way, he didn’t deserve you or your kind nature.

“Hm…” You looked down at your lap again before smiling. You clasped your hands together and gave Meryl a close-eyed smile. “I think Vash would make the perfect boyfriend!”

“Anyway.” Roberto cleared his throat. “This, uh, slave trade thing. What’s supposed to happen with that? They’re not gonna come lookin’ for ya, right?”

“Oh! The invaders should not know where to find me, at least for now. The land of no men can not be detected on most locators since it’s unable to naturally sustain life.”

Nicolas stood up, exhaling a long cloud of smoke before stretching. “That’s good enough for me.” He began to walk off. “I’m gonna hit the hay.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Roberto made his way back over to the truck as well. “Come on, newbie.”

“It’s Meryl!” The young reporter narrowed her eyes at the older man. She sighed before standing. “You gotta tell me more about your customs in the morning! You have no idea how many people would be interested in hearing your side.” Her eyes held an innocent sort of eagerness. One that gave you joy. “Sure! I can not wait to tell you more.”

And then it was just the two of you left.

“Is there something wrong, Vash? You are rather quiet tonight…You have not eaten as well.” You took a portion of the cooked meat and held it to his mouth. “Do you need assistance?”

“No, no.” He gently moved your hand away. He gave you a sad smile, conveying how dejected he was to you so clearly. “I just…wish that there was a way I could protect you.”

“Protect me?” You grabbed Vash’s hands. “You have done such a good job protecting me already! I can also protect myself. You have nothing to worry about because we have each other.” Your face began to heat up. It felt like you were unofficially confessing your feelings to him. The only thing that stopped you from fully committing was the thought of rejection. You’ve been through so much with him already, but would he really want to be with a weak leader? A princess who failed to save her people and was captured?

Vash had a fear of rejection too. He knew for certain that you would probably want nothing to do with him once you’ve encountered Naï. There was just no way. They bled the same blood. Somehow, hearing about your hard past almost confirmed it for him. What would happen once Naï found out about you? He would stop at nothing to obtain you. If only there was a way to send you home.

You began to get worried when your partner didn’t answer you. He seemed to have zoned out, which was very unlike him. “Vash?” You called softly, bringing one of your hands up to his cheek. Your thumb rubbed it tenderly and you gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing will happen to me.”

You felt like your words weren’t exactly putting him at ease so perhaps, you would need to let him in on more of your anatomy.

“I…I have something to tell you.” 

This made his eyes widen. You didn’t exactly look happy either.

“You can tell me anything.” He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was touching his face. You inhaled softly, preparing yourself internally. “My powers are fueled through…emotions. Anger, sadness, happiness, and love. I have very strong emotions of love that are connected to you. So, I am not worried about the harm that should befall you or me because I am strong enough to handle it.”

Vash’s already-tinted cheeks turned a deep red. His pupils retracted at your confession. He couldn’t believe the things that he was hearing from you. He’s been trying to push down his feelings for you for months!

“And…” you continued, averting your eyes. “I like the idea of lip contact with you—oh! And you being the male friend.”

“Boyfriend or…just friends?”

You blinked. “Well, you are my friend, that's a boy.” You squint your eyes at him. “…or at least I think you are. You seem to be male-identifying.”

Vash sighed, closing his eyes gently. You seemed to be a bit confused but, how could he blame you? He chuckled out loud before muttering “You’re so adorable.”

Your cheeks burned when he leaned in to kiss you one more time. He placed his free hand on your hip, pulling you slightly closer to him. His other hand gently squeezed your wrist. When he pulled away, he left you wanting more.

When you realized what happened, you leaped out of his grasp, covering your mouth with your hands.

“Aw, I didn’t scare you, did I?”

[rems-writing]

Demon Mingi headcanon

》 Pairing: demon!Mingi x angel!reader 》 AU: supernatural AU 》 Wordcount: 1,260 words 》 Rating: pg-13

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

I'm also tagging @mingikuromi who is a Mingi ult as well :3

Song Mingi, one of the biggest and scariest demons in all of hell. Although, he is not as scary as the designated big three (Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and San)

demon!Mingi, who actually has the softest heart out of all his demonic brothers

demon!Mingi, who is only pinned as scary due to his height, piercing wolf-like eyes, and cold expression on his face

demon!Mingi, who had no interest in opening his heart to anyone since he assumes everyone will just break it without remorse

demon!Mingi, who breaks hearts first so he can protect his

demon!Mingi, who grows bored one day and decides to visit Earth

demon!Mingi, whose human disguise is just as gorgeous as the rest of him 

demon!Mingi, who has a deep love for r&b and would always search for the best tracks by asking people for recommendations since phones aren’t allowed in hell

demon!Mingi, who is just strolling around the park one day when he encounters you

demon!Mingi, whose heart races when he sees you on the bench, drawing the surroundings on a sketch pad

demon!Mingi, who stands afar as his vision is focused on you as the graphite of the pencil scratches the thick surface of the sketch pad’s paper

demon!Mingi, who finds himself slowly falling in love with you more and more as he stares dreamily at you

demon!Mingi, whose eyes grow wide at the sight of two gigantic angel wings sticking out of your back. Due to his enhanced vision, he can see who is human and who is of supernatural origin

demon!Mingi, whose eyes then narrow back into slits as he sees a group of immature human boys skate up to you and try to flirt with you

demon!Mingi, who has a small grin on his face as you looked up at the boys and blatantly told them that you weren’t interested

demon!Mingi, who has the grin disappear on his face when the leader of that skate group opens up his cup of cheap soda and pours it all over your sketch pad and your hair, which you worked so hard to straighten, only for it to go down a sticky and processed sugary drain

demon!Mingi, who feels his palms heat up as you sit there dejected with your head hung low and your ruined sketch clutched tightly against your chest as the boys laugh at you and even try to touch your ruined hair

demon!Mingi, who had absolutely enough of these silly humans belittling you and decided to take matters into his own hands

demon!Mingi, who switches outfits. He went from a casual guy walking around the city to a wealthy businessman with a freezing aura surrounding him

demon!Mingi, who strolls up to you in fast and loud strides as he stands in between you and the boys, glaring down at them with clenched fists and rage filled eyes

“Are you done harassing this young and clearly uninterested person here?”

“H-Hey, man. We were just joking around! Tell him, babe.”

“I don’t know them, sir…”

demon!Mingi, whose heart clenched in pain upon hearing your small and fragile voice. 

demon!Mingi, who decides to forget the rules of demon and angel interactions momentarily so he can help you out

demon!Mingi, who grabs one of the boys’ skateboards and breaks it in half easily before chucking it behind him

“Watch that tongue of yours, boy. Or else your skateboard won’t be the only one being broken in half. Either apologize or leave should you stay so righteously stubborn in your intrepid words.”

demon!Mingi, who feels satisfaction upon seeing the human boys practically piss themselves as they throw stuttered apologies at you and run away crying

demon!Mingi, who turns around and feels his hardened resolve soften upon seeing your angelic features stare up at him with gratitude. From your big eyes down to your pouty lips

“I know that angels aren’t really supposed to interact with demons, but I just want to say thank you for standing up for me. Um… I’m in your debt.”

“Hush, my darling. You are in no debt to me. I only did this because it’s the right thing to do.”

demon!Mingi, who sits beside you yet keeps a respectable space in between you both

demon!Mingi, who smiles shyly when he sees you scoot closer to him and lay your head on one of his broad shoulders, ignoring the way his heart was beating rapidly

“Come, little one. I’ll take you back to your place so you can shower and maybe finish your drawing.”

“It’s ok. It’s not like I’m serious about my sketches. This one was just a basic one anyway.”

demon!Mingi, who couldn’t help the smile growing bigger on his face as you ramble about sketches and art

demon!Mingi, who found himself walking with you back to your apartment as you kept rambling on and on. Not that he was complaining of course. He found it cute and endearing

demon!Mingi, who now finds himself standing in your small apartment as you set down your sketch pad on the kitchen counter to fetch him something to drink. In all honesty, he never predicted to find himself in this situation, yet here he was. 

demon!Mingi, who found your collection of small penguin plushies sitting on the windowsill next to some plants and finding it so adorable. 

demon!Mingi, who was now sitting on the couch, listening to you as you moved on from sketches. You were now ranting about how not all demons were bad and that he was an example

demon!Mingi, who couldn’t help but to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as he scooted closer to you

demon!Mingi, who had to stop himself from cooing at the sight of your blushing face and bashful nature

“I never got your name by the way, sir!”

“Oh… it’s Song Mingi.”

“Hi! I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Mingi!”

demon!Mingi, who blushed as well as he felt you hug him with not only your arms but also your wings. If an angel wraps their wings around you, it meant that you were trustworthy

demon!Mingi, who pulled back and couldn’t help but stare at your lips for a while before shaking his head and looking away

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You’re so pretty. Alas, I can’t do what I’ve desired to do. While relationships between angels and demons aren’t prohibited, it is looked down upon. I don’t want you to be looked down upon and I especially don’t want to take away your innocence. You deserve someone better than me…”

demon!Mingi, who grew surprised when he felt your small hand caress his cheek gently and wipe away a stray tear that apparently fell from his eye

“It’s ok, Mingi. We can figure something out. For now… please don’t leave. I like your presence.”

demon!Mingi, who couldn’t help but cradle your face in his huge hands and felt his heart blossom with so much love as he saw you lean into his touch

“I’ll stay with you for as long as you need. I am here for you.”

demon!Mingi, who felt at home when you fell asleep in his arms after you had showered, dried your hair, and climbed into bed with him

“I’ll protect you until my last breath.” Mingi whispered under his breath affectionately as he kissed your forehead and fell asleep