#i just wrote stuff and prayed it was right

[hearts4sammonroe]

could you write a little fluff of raising two daughters with james, him being the best husband and girl dad despite his past maybe some super cute moments between him and the kids and him and reader. only if you’re comfortable with that of course!

pairing: dad!james kelly x mom!reader

contains: fluff, girl dad James, typical kid behavior.

a/n: thank you izzy!! I’ve never wrote anything like this before, and I don’t have a good relationship w my dad so I pray this is accurate girl dad stuff 💀 i hope it’s okay 😭🫶 also I got the names off of Google lmao.

divider credit: @kodaswrld

James Kelly was trying his best to do his daughter’s hair. You tasked him with getting your daughters ready for the park while you packed lunch. James was miserably failing. Of course, he’d done their hair a million times, but your oldest daughter suggested pigtails. He only knew how to do a ponytail.

“Ah, shit I’ve— I mean shoot I’ve messed it up again.” He sighs.

“Mommy, daddy said a bad word!” Your three year old, Charlotte says.

“Nooo, I said shoot.” James rolls his eyes playfully. After ten minutes, he finished your 7 year old Amelia’s hair. “All done.”

Amelia skipped over to the mirror just to look horrified. “Daddy…”

Thankfully you walked in. “James, what in the world did you do?” You ask, the big grin on your face trying to suppress a laugh.

“I did pigtails!” James shrugs, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Oh, my goodness.” You sigh. For the next twenty minutes, you spent showing him how to do pigtails on your daughter.

Finally, you made it to the park. You had a small picnic lunch which surprisingly wasn’t messy then headed to the playground.

“Mommy, can you push me on the swing? Pleaaaaaase?” Charlotte asks with that gap toothed smile. Of course you oblige.

As you were swinging, James was helping Amelia on the monkey bars. “You can let go now!”

“Are you sure?” James asks.

“Yes, daddy. Promise.” Amelia smiles.

James hesitantly lets go. The poor kid lasted five seconds before falling down onto the mulch, letting out a cry.

“James…” you call out, already knowing the incident happened with him. He was a great dad, the best dad even! But one of those kids always got hurt with him.

“She said to let go.” James shrugs helplessly before picking up his crying daughter. “You okay, doll?”

“Yeah.” Amelia sniffles. “My knee hurts.”

“All right, let me see.” James says, setting her down on the bench and taking his backpack off. Yes. James is a backpack dad.

You walk over, Charlotte on your hip. “It’s okay, baby, see it’s just a little scratch.” You console.

“Yeah, daddy has these magic bandaids. Gonna make it all better.” James says, putting the bandaid onto the girl’s knee.

You, James, and your daughters were now at the grocery store. You were pushing Charlotte in the shopping cart, while James walks hand in hand with Amelia.

“And goldfish, and pudding, and cookies, and ice cream, and…” Charlotte was going on and on with her own requests for snacks. You were just smiling and nodding.

“My knee is all better so I think—“ Amelia stopped to gasp, pointing to the box of cake mix. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, can we pleeeaaaase make a cake?”

James looks over at you, like he’s asking permission. Last time you all tried to make a cake it was a disaster, but you always had to give it a second chance. “… all right.”

“Yay!” Amelia cheers. James grabbed two different cake mixes, mainly because he knew the first one would probably fail.

As you guys were heading into the house, the girls were walking together hand in hand. Just happy to be there. In their own innocent little world.

You look over at James, to see him with a big grin and fishing his phone out. That phone he’s had for years, barely works. But he was taking a picture of the girls, proudly, even with his bad angles.

“Look at our sweet girls.” He smiles.

Surprisingly the baking was going really well! The girls were doing great! But then James messed it up…

“Babe, can you open the bag of flour?”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t open it. He ripped it. The flour went flying everywhere. Everywhere. Not just the counter. It was the floor, the wall, the stove, and all over your daughters.

You look up to see your two little girls covered in flour. You didn’t even know how to react until they bursted into a fit of giggles.

“Daddy messed it up this time.” Amelia giggles.

“Yeah, I did.” James nods with a sheepish smile before getting a puff of flour blown at him by Charlotte. He got her back by tickling her, sending puffs of flour giggles everywhere.

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully and trying to clean up the kitchen counter. And those three menaces… they saw their opportunity. They all threw flour at you.

“James! I just washed my hair!” You squeal, trying to be mad but you couldn’t with the way he was laughing and the girls were giggling.

“Now we all look like that pillsbury doughboy, huh?” James laughed, wiping flour from his eyebrow.

You all indeed looked like the pillsbury doughboy. It was like if he came in extra small, small, medium, and large. Crazy.

Bath time was rough. Getting flour out of two little girl’s hair was hard but you and James worked together. Then had to clean yourselves up for the second time.

You were all snuggled on the couch, in pajamas, freshly clean bodies, all cozy in James’ arms. James had one arm around you, one arm around Amelia, and Charlotte in his lap.

You were watching sleeping beauty. James claimed that he wasn’t interested but he definitely was. He was so invested.

Once the movie ended, he realized you were all asleep and he had been watching it by himself for thirty whole minutes.

He shook his head, chuckling quietly at himself before pulling a big blanket over you all. He glanced down at you with loving eyes, a small smile on his face.

“My favorite girls.”

@anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust

[1-800-i-ship-it]

omg i just finished orv im going insane im im i can finally look at that doc of things i saved for after i finished orv and can look at spoilers...i can finally unblock that orv spoiler tag...im so normal about orv

[exopelagic]

applied for a job!!!

[afterglowsainz]

don’t wanna break up again | oscar piastri

pairing: actress!reader x oscar piastri

summary: you never go to any of oscar races and he’s always been okay with it, until he’s not

fc: rachel zegler

warnings: angst

a/n: i am in such an oscar kick lately you cannot physically stop me (i’ve also never wrote angst before this is so fun!)

—

liked by oscarpiastri, gracieabrams and others

yourusername vacation barbie☀️

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username uhmmm ???

username obsessed with her going on vacation instead of supporting yet another one of his boyfriend’s races

username so now she’s not allowed to go on vacation after working for five months on a movie? grow up

oscarpiastri the prettiest🥰

username oh to be called the prettiest by oscar piastri 😩

username so beautiful 😍

username respectfully looking 👀

username day number 482927 praying for y/n to attend a race

username at this point i feel like the only way she’s attending is if she has to promote a movie or something

username petition for y/n to be in that f1 movie they’re making just so we can see her at the paddock once

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri absolutely love austria 🧡

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username that’s my driver right there !!!

yourusername so well deserved❤️ (liked by oscarpiastri)

username another podium where y/n wasn’t present😊

username i could treat you so much better i swear!

mclaren incredible drive oscar🧡

georgerusell63 👊🏽👊🏽

username next podium is a win👀

liked by gigihadid, oliviarodrigo and others

yourusername star of the year is insane! thank you so much for this award and to all of you, i love you all to the moon and back and without you this wouldn’t be possible🫶🏽 thank you thank you thank you ⭐️

view all comments

username so so well deserved y/n congrats! 🎉

username ms. rabbit has fainted

username oh she just looked unreal tonight 🤩

username she IS the star of our generation 👏🏽

oscarpiastri couldn’t be prouder❤️

yourusername love you! 💘

username she’s just THAT GOOD

username star of the year indeed😍

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

oscarpiastri incredibly proud of the most talented, hard-working, brightest woman i know. you’re not only the star of the year you’re also the star of my life and i know there will be many more awards to come your way🌟

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username oh

yourusername i can’t put into words how much i love you❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

username now i just know he did not went out of his way to go to this award show for her during a race week and she can’t even be bothered to go to one (1) race

username he literally made a post about the critics recognizing her work as an actress and you’re commenting stuff like this? jesus

mclaren congratulations, y/n! 🧡 (liked by yourusername)

username y/n they will never make me like you!

username cutest couple🥰

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and others

oscarpiastri hungary will always be in my heart 🇭🇺 🫶🏽

view all comments

username obsessed with the first picture

username about to tattoo this whole race in my forehead brb

logansargeant congratulations mate🎉

username TWO MCLAREN MAIDEN WINS THIS YEAR ARE YOU KIDDING ME

carlossainz55 congrats oscar👍🏼

username so rookie of the year of him 😩

landonorris congrats muppet 🍾

yourusername so so proud of you congratulations my love‼️❤️‍🔥

oscarpiastri 🥰

username girl you weren’t even there…

liked by lilymhe, taylorswift and others

yourusername six weeks of breathing clean air, i still miss the smoke.

view all comments

username no way they actually broke up😭

username can’t believe it’s been six weeks i thought they were gonna get back after two days

username but why is she calling her relationship with oscar toxic? 😔

username at least she’s going out!

username oh you know it’s getting serious when she’s pulling out the taylor lyrics

username refusing to believe my parents are divorced (i’m older than them)

username finally we’re out of the trenches‼️

username currently praying for oscar’s next girlfriend to be supportive🙏🏽

comments have been disabled.

[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[balladofboothill]

Joe burrow x EMT

note : wrote this purely off kissing a tree with your car brownies and 10hrs of shitty sleep

warnings : brief talk of medical stuff, the q word, couple sex jokes and very short

Like any medical household, the q word is banned (quiet)

"Why the fuck is it so quiet here" Ja'marr comes busting in through the doorway, disturbing the much needed peace of the household, joe shushed him right away as the last time he said the q word he got a stuffed animal thrown his way, "we never speak of the q word here" Joe says quietly as Ja'marr gives him a look as if he has four heads.

Joe asks the strangest questions

"What happens if someone's dick snaps off during sex?" Joe asks, randomly at 4am, "uhhhhh, I don't know, why?" You ask, "dunno just wondering" Joe answered with this strange look in his eye, still slightly confused at why he's asking this, another time while eating dinner he asked what would happen if someone stuck a carrot in their eyes.

Med truck sex.

JK! But he did ask if that was possible while he was watching you load it. "Could you ride me on that stretcher?" Joe asks in a bland tone for the question he just asked. "Joe baby, great idea but I'd like to keep my job." You answered to him, clearly joking upset

Thinks it's the coolest thing that he now has a personal nurse for when he's sick

Man flu is the worst thing to ever happen to men, Joe is 100% down for the count, acting like he's gonna puke his lungs out, "nurse can you please give me some cough meds" Joe begged as best he could between the coughs, "yeah here." You said as you hand him the cough meds, "this isn't what I expected to be using my schooling for" you though to yourself, praying you don't get sick next

If his friends get injured while they're doing guy things he'll text you a picture and ask what to do

A text pings during your lunch break of a photo that Joe sent, it's of a pretty sizable open cut with a fishing hook stuck in it, Joe had taken a couple high school friends fishing at your family's pond earlier before your shift, texting back "don't remove the hook, cut the line and go to the ER", a couple hours later you receive a photo of the stitched up cut

any EMT is awful to watch football with

Watching a random college game after a long shift with Joe should have been relaxing until you get bored and start commentating the injuries that can happen, "during my first week I saw a player snap his entire latissimus dorsi" you commentate as Joe looks in slight horror

Thank you for reading :) please reblog to support writers!!<3

[annebaby]

hello all! its summer break, so hopefully i will stay motivated to write. one of my friends helped me come up with this idea, so i hope you like!!

warnings: fingering (r receiving), kissing, biting, public sex

divider from here!

coffee shop 

college english - absolutely horrific. i’ve gotten a new essay assignment every week, each one being over a topic that was far too complex to make sense of. however, i had aced all of them. 

so this week, i was fully prepared to ace another essay. my brain had been working overtime trying to predict the upcoming topic. 

i travelled to the college’s local coffee shop, looking forward to my headphones, an iced matcha, and a few hours of pure focus. 

i entered the shop, finding a seat tucked in the back corner. i set my stuff down and went up to order, feeling my phone vibrate while i was waiting for my drink. 

it was an email from my professor with this weeks essay assignment. 

“how do you challenge yourself to let go of things stopping you from being independent?” 

what the fuck?

normally, this would be an easy topic. an easy answer to a simple question. but right now - it wasn’t. 

i had just gotten over a fresh breakup with my now-ex girlfriend, kate martin. it was hard enough seeing her as the poster athlete all over campus, being reminded of her looming residence in my heart. 

however, i recently had begun to work on myself and forgetting all the memories we had once shared. our breakup was civil, but the constant gossip of every recent hookup she had was like a dagger to the heart. 

i prayed this assignment wouldn’t bring up all those feelings again. it was hard enough to get to where i was now. countless nights of crying to my roommates, eating junk food, drinking, etc. had gotten me to where i was now. i was happy. 

that was until i saw my english assignment. 

“iced matcha latte!” the barista called out. 

i walked up to the counter, thanking her before sitting back down in my corner and opening my laptop. i put on my headphones, taking a deep breath before locking in and starting to write. 

i wrote for what seemed like hours. i wrote about how i had gotten over my recent breakup by working out, giving myself time, and hanging out with friends (minus the excessive drinking). it was hard not to think about her blonde hair sprawled across my pillows when she would stay over. it was hard not to think about the way she would kiss me after she won a game. it was hard not to - wait, no. 

i wasn’t doing this again. i couldn’t do this again. 

i took my headphones off and paused my music, taking a break from the writing. i looked up and noticed how crowded the coffee shop had actually gotten. people had been piling in, and now it was almost full. 

the line was at least 7 people long, each one talking to another person with them. i smiled to myself, feeling happiness radiating throughout the cafe. 

until i saw that blonde hair. it wasn’t cascading over my pillows though. it was falling onto the shoulder of the girl she had brought with her. kate martin and the new mystery girl of the week, who would’ve guessed?

i scowled at the sight of them, anger filling my veins to distract me from my jealous, sad feelings. i wanted that to be me. that SHOULD be me. 

fuck, why am i like this? 

i pop my headphones back on my head, resuming the music with the volume all the way up. i try to ignore her presence, acting like i simply never saw her at all. its easier that way. i don’t want to see her doting on another new girl. 

i regain my focus on my essay, but this time the words aren’t coming out as easily. instead, i was re-typing all my sentences. each word was filled with hate and anger, reflecting my feelings in this situation. 

frustrated, i look up across the shop, immediately catching kate already staring at me. 

god. 

i quickly look away, pausing my music and heading to the restroom. i shut the door behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. all i see is a women who is defeated. a woman who is tired, angry and upset. 

before i let the tears fall, i put my face in my hands. im squeezing my face, gently tugging on my own hair, and sighing out of anger. my leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down, my anger starting to physically course through me.

the door opens. i turn my head to see the very person causing me to be this way. 

kate notices me completely disheveled, locking the door behind her. 

“hey, are you okay?” she asks. her hand reaches for my shoulder, but i stand back.

“im fine,” i say, trying to push my way past her back out to my laptop, my sanctuary. 

but, she won’t let me pass. instead, she picks me up and sets me onto the bathroom counter, standing between my legs. i look away, not being able to look her in the eyes with tears now generously streaming down my cheeks. 

“you’re not fine,” she says, cautiously wiping my tears. i swat her hand away.

“what makes you think you’re still allowed to touch me? talk to me like this?” i bawl.

i hop off the counter, now standing in front of her. 

“go back to this week’s fuck and leave me alone,” i head for the door, but i’m stopped as kate grabs my wrist and pulls me back around to face her, unbearably close. 

“please, just talk to me,” kate pleads. 

i squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain flooding throughout my head. 

i look up at her, tears still falling down my face. 

“you’re such an assho-

i’m cut off by kate’s hands on either side of my face, pulling me in for a sweet, hungry kiss. my hands hover over her, surprise engulfing me as i struggled to comprehend what was happening. 

she pulled back, looking at me between my eyes. she was desperately trying to assess my reaction. 

a moment of boldness was all it took for me to lose all control, and there was no need for her to assess when my hands reached her waist and pulled her into me. i smashed my lips to hers, her hands gripping my ass. 

i groaned into her and she uses her opportunity to invade my mouth. taken aback, i stumble backwards until my ass is against the sink of the restroom.

“jump,” she whispers.

i suddenly realize how unfortunate this situation is - making out with my ex girlfriend in a coffee shop while she’s out with another girl. 

its almost as if kate sees the realization cross my face when she says, ”its fine, its fine," against my neck. her voice gives me chill bumps, flashbacks to our previous encounters flashing through my mind.

her fingers are toying with the waistband of my shorts, dipping in and out teasingly. i feel her lips moving and nipping at my neck, no doubt leaving marks for me to discover later - kate’s signature move.

i whined her name, practically begging for her to slip her fingers in me. she smirked against my skin. i hated being so needy, but kate loved to tease. i could not handle that right now.

“please kate, please,” i whispered. 

“what do you want?” she breathed.

her stupid pride. her stupid ego. had i really forgotten the way she’d make me beg for her? i laughed. 

“you don’t deserve to hear me beg.��

i grab her wrist and move her fingers to my center, immediately feeling her fingers tense at my wetness. 

i grab her shoulder with my free arm, my forehead digging into her neck. her fingers started tracing circles on my most sensitive spot, causing me to bite her shoulder to keep myself from moaning. in response, i feel two of her fingers dive into me, curling and straightening as she fucks me with them. i lift my head up to look at her face, her eyes looking downward between us the whole time. 

“fuck,” i whisper. i feel myself coming undone, seeing her that focused on the connection between us was sending me over the edge.

she smiles and meets my eyes quickly. 

“c’mon, you can do it,” she breathes. she leans forward and takes my bottom lip in between her lip, tugging on it. i felt the tightness in my stomach loosen. 

kate breathed out as if she had been holding a breath this entire time. she helped me finish out my high, before sticking her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean of me. 

she stands in front of me, unphased. meanwhile, i’m heaving, my legs shaking and cramping. i look at her, my face puffy from my previous crying.

and we just start laughing. i hop off the counter, standing on my tip toes to give her a quick kiss. this felt like old times, our feelings felt like they had never left.

“tell your whore that i’m back,” i whisper. 

her eyes widen in amusement, her hands finding a resting spot on my waist. 

“i’ll be at your place later so we can talk about… this.” i motion back and forth between us.

i leave her grasp and walk back out in the coffee shop, returning to my laptop. smiling to myself, i read the essay that i had so effortlessly typed out. i delete the entire thing before closing my laptop. 

i couldn’t write about being independent after my ex girlfriend had ruthlessly fucked me in the coffee shop bathroom. 

[luvfae]

i love ur thanos stories, you wrote him so in character !! could you do a fanfic where he meets reader in the games and she’s kind of weird ? like she’s very calm and unfazed by everything and people avoid her because she asks strange questions and just seems to be in her own world completely ? i think the contrast of thanos being loud and himself with a reader with this personality would be cute :)

UNFAZED

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: typical squid game stuff, death, blood, swearing, dark humor.

The first time Thanos noticed you, he thought you were beautiful.

The second time, he thought you were insane.

It was during Red Light, Green Light. People were screaming, blood splattering the ground, bodies dropping like flies—and there you were, standing still, watching it all like it was mildly interesting.

He was running past you when he heard you mumble, “I wonder how many people have died in the exact spot we’re standing in.”

What the fuck?

He nearly tripped.

Who the hell thought about that in a situation like this? Most people were crying, praying, or pissing themselves. But you? You tilted your head, staring at the bloodied ground like you were considering something deeply philosophical.

Then the music played, and you walked forward, completely unbothered, hands in your pockets.

Thanos couldn’t stop looking at you.

When he finally made it to the finish line, panting and cursing, he turned his head—and there you were, still strolling like you had all the time in the world, like people weren’t being gunned down behind you.

When the last gunshot rang out, signaling the game was over, Thanos exhaled, shaking his head. But his eyes found you again, and for a brief moment, you locked eyes.

Then you smiled.

And Thanos—who never shut up, who always had something to say—just stood there, stunned, watching as you turned and walked away like none of this meant a damn thing to you.

Yeah.

He had to talk to you.

After Red Light, Green Light

People were avoiding you.

Not just steering clear, but actively avoiding you—whispering, sneaking glances, looking at you like you were something unnatural.

Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising.

Not after what you said.

Some guy had been crying over his dead friend, shaking his body, begging him to wake up. And you? You just crouched beside him, tilted your head, and said:

“It’s kind of poetic, don’t you think? He died reaching for the finish line but never made it. It’s like a metaphor for his whole life.”

The guy had turned white.

People started moving away from you immediately after that, muttering about how you were crazy or fucking cursed.

You didn’t mind. It gave you more space.

Ever intrigued, Thanos sauntered over and dropped down beside you, settling in like he’d known you forever. You barely acknowledged him, offering only a slow, dreamy smile—like you hadn’t just survived a massacre, like you weren’t trapped in a death game. Like none of this even phased you.

“So,” he said, smirking. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a fucked-up place like this?”

You blinked at him.

Then, completely serious, you said, “Did you know you can tell how long a body has been dead based on the color of the blood pooling in their limbs?”

Thanos stared.

What. The. Fuck.

You continued, tilting your head. “I was watching earlier. Some of them turned pale faster than others. Which means they probably had worse circulation before they died. It makes you wonder about their medical history.”

Thanos opened his mouth. Then closed it.

He had flirted with a lot of women in his life. And every single one of them—without fail—either blushed, giggled, or played along.

But you?

You were talking about corpse discoloration.

He had no idea how to respond to that.

“…Right.” He cleared his throat, regrouping. “Anyway, you’re cute. You should stick with me—I’ll keep you safe.”

You hummed. “You’re on drugs, aren’t you?”

Thanos choked.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I—I mean—” He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No.”

“I doubt that,” you said easily, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Your pupils are kind of weirdly dilated. And you’re talking fast. Stimulants, probably.”

Thanos didn’t know whether to be impressed or offended.

“I like you,” he decided. “You’re fun.”

You didn’t reply.

Thanos let out a laugh—sharp and amused, because he wasn’t used to being ignored, much less dismissed so easily.

“I’m Thanos,” he said, leaning in slightly, his usual confidence slipping back into place. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied, tilting your head. “And you?”

He blinked.

“Thanos. I just told you that.”

“Oh.” You shrugged, entirely unbothered. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Thanos stared at you, torn between laughing and being personally offended. Most people hung on his every word, eager for his attention, desperate to impress him. But you? You couldn’t even be bothered to remember his name.

He grinned.

“I think I love you,” he said, half-joking.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you replied easily, pulling your knees to your chest. “We’re in a life-or-death situation. Your emotions are probably just heightened due to adrenaline.”

Thanos let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You just blinked at him, as if the thought had never crossed your mind.

He studied you for a long moment, taking in the dreamy, far-off look in your eyes, the way you seemed almost bored despite the chaos surrounding you. He had met a lot of people in his life—liars, manipulators, people who pretended to be something they weren’t. But you?

You weren’t faking it.

You were just… like this.

Untouchable.

Unshaken.

Unfazed.

And fuck, he was fascinated.

“So, Y/N,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, eyes glinting with amusement. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You hummed, considering. “The same thing as you, I suppose.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You turned to look at him, your gaze slow and lazy, like you were looking straight through him.

“Surviving.”

Thanos couldn’t help the way his grin widened at your response, the sharpness in your tone only making him more intrigued. You didn’t say things like that to impress, or even to challenge. It was just… matter of fact. A simple observation that had him leaning in closer, drawn to that calm, detached confidence you wore like armor.

“Surviving, huh?” He repeated, more to himself than to you. “I like that answer.”

You didn’t smile back, but there was a small flicker in your eyes—a brief moment where it almost seemed like you might’ve been amused. He could see it, hidden just beneath the surface of that indifferent expression.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you said, voice matter-of-fact. “We’re all just waiting for our turn.”

His smile faded for a second. It wasn’t lost on him that you were right. No one in the game was truly safe. He couldn’t shake the idea that your calmness wasn’t just for show, though. You were waiting for your turn, but there was no fear in your eyes.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re too concerned about it,” he noted, crossing his arms. “Most people would be scared, running around like headless chickens. But you? You’re just… here.”

“You’re right,” you said softly, your voice still far too calm for the circumstances. “I guess I’m not scared. Not yet.”

Thanos tilted his head, studying you more closely now. “What’s your deal, huh? You’re not like everyone else in here.”

You blinked, giving him a look that could only be described as mildly curious. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

He shrugged, not exactly answering your question but also not denying it. “Maybe.”

You didn’t respond right away, but there was a beat of silence, a moment where the two of you were left alone in your own thoughts, the rest of the chaos going on around you completely irrelevant.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me,” you said after a while, almost absently. “I’m just aware of things… most people choose to ignore.”

“And what do you think they’re ignoring?”

“Their own mortality.” You leaned back against the cold wall, staring ahead. “Everyone acts like they’re invincible until they’re not. But me?” You looked at him then, your gaze cool but steady. “I’ve already accepted that I’m not. That’s why I don’t react. I don’t have time for it.”

Thanos blinked, the intensity of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He wasn’t sure why, but that calm, grounded air you had around you was starting to do something to him. It was like you were speaking a truth he hadn’t been ready to hear, or maybe didn’t even want to.

“You’re one strange person, Y/N,” he said with a half-smile, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or be genuinely intrigued by what you just said. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone like you before.”

You didn’t reply immediately, letting the silence hang between you two. But the corners of your mouth twitched, just for a second, like you almost wanted to laugh. Or maybe it was just another strange quirk he didn’t understand.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough, Thanos,” you finally said, using his name with that same strange casualness you used for everything. “Everyone does, eventually.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a promise, but Thanos found himself leaning forward slightly, captivated.

“Maybe,” he said, voice softening, his usual bravado slipping for just a moment. “But, uh, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily, are you?”

You glanced at him with that same blank expression, your eyes unreadable. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Thanos felt his pulse quicken, that feeling he got when things were starting to shift. There was something about you that got under his skin, something that made him want to figure you out—whether you wanted him to or not. You were like a puzzle, one he didn’t know how to solve, but hell if he wasn’t going to try.

“Good,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re gonna need someone to keep an eye on you, Y/N.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if it was for his own safety or hers, but for the first time since the game started, he wasn’t thinking about the other players or how to win. All he cared about was you—this strange, unfazed person who didn’t blink at the carnage around her, but still somehow seemed to have a grip on what was really going on.

For now, though, Thanos would be your friend. But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to get closer.

He couldn’t stop himself.

[calypsocolada]

PRACTICAL | s. shinazugawa

synopsis: you work at the butterfly mansion and your least favorite hashira comes to visit.

authors note: this is my first fanfic so please be nice haha I kinda just wrote this without any direction. I know nothing about medical stuff so bear with me.

cw warnings: mentions of blood, some cussing, slightly suggestive. that’s it I think let me know if I missed anything!

wc: 2.5k

________________________________________

One word that you’d use to describe Sanemi Shinazugawa was cold. Cold like the icy morning air that stung your cheeks. That made you grab scarf and pull it up over your nose to hide from its sharp bite.

You worked at the butterfly mansion, all the great Hashira’s came through here. All of them so different. Giyuu was quiet but kind. Mitsuri outgoing and thankful (you always liked when she was around). Tengen was flirty, claiming that he had room for another wife before winking at you. And although that offer was tempting he was far too much for you, you did like his wives though. You never really saw Obanai much but on the off chance you did you gave him space, he didn’t seem much of a talker. You never met Gyomei. Rengoku was one of your favorites, he went completely out of his way to make you laugh, to share his food with you and sometimes while he was training, he’d teach you a few things. Tokito was adorable, he wasn’t around much but when he was you loved talking with him. Explaining things that he didn’t understand and smiling when he did. Now Sanemi, he was your least favorite hashira. He was rude, loud and obnoxious. You’d pray that you got someone else’s bedside to take care of when you saw him being carried into the mansion, bloody and bruised. He wasn’t even conscious this time and still you were annoyed.

You remember when you first met him, you smiled as you brought his food and medicine and although he didn’t return the sentiment you still were polite. You asked how his day was, he grunted. You helped him eat (both of his arms were broken) he gripped at you to go faster. You gave him his medicine and he laughed when you dropped the cap on accident. When he was a bit better to be able to stand and train his body back he was 10x worse! He called you healer girl even though you reminded him of your name countless times. He never left you alone, he’d follow you around and crack stupid jokes, he’d splash water in your face multiple times during the cup game and once when you were talking with another girl, he eavesdropped and laughed at something you considered a low moment in your life. Right then and there you decided Sanemi Shinazugawa was your least favorite person.

The next few times he came around you purposely made sure you were halfway across the mansion at all times, busying yourself with other things. You heard from some other healers that he was in bad shape after your second day of hiding. You felt terrible.

“Is he conscious?” You’d asked one of the girls.

“No! We’re all very worried!” She answered back. You sighed. You were the best healer and if you kept hiding out because of some stupid things you’d feel responsible for not helping. So you dragged yourself to Sanemi’s room. He was currently sharing a room with Rengoku. A smile lit up your face at the sight of him.

“Ren! What’re you doing here?” You exclaimed as you ran across the room, he jumped to his feet to meet you in a hug and spun you off your feet. You laughed happily as he sat you back down.

“Got here at the same time as Nemi here, I was in a bit better shape then him.” Rengoku fills you in. You turn to look at Sanemi. He was pale, his cheeks flushed, he had cuts and bruises littered all over his skin, his torso was wrapped with white gauze that clearly needed to be changed because some blood was seeping through. “Wondering where you were, thought maybe you were away or something.” Rengoku says as you walk over to Sanemi’s bedside. He was sleeping fitfully, obviously uncomfortable from the pain. You reached out, the back of your hand pressing against Sanemi’s forehead. He was burning up, his cheeks and forehead clammy.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whispered as you reached for a cloth, dousing it in cold water and ringing it out. “I was hiding.” You told Rengoku. His brows turned in in confusion. You made a face and signaled to Sanemi. Rengoku’s eyes grew as he mouthed the word ‘oh’ as though he understood. You pressed the cold cloth to Sanemi’s forehead and he seemed to relax just a bit.

“I too like to hide away from my feelings.” He joked and your face instantly blushed.

“Negative feelings.” You corrected quickly.

“Negative?” Rengoku echoed. “You don’t have a crush?”

“No! Of course not!” You burned, trying to keep your voice as a hushed whisper. Rengoku cocked his head like a dog at you, you rolled your eyes, turning back to Sanemi. He’d moved closer somehow, clearly unaware of who was currently taking care of him. You pulled the rag away and rung it out with cold water again, pressing it to his cheeks as you pulled the cover from his body. He was radiating heat so before you could change his bandage you needed to get his temperature down just a bit. Rengoku watched quietly as you got to work. Slowly evening out Sanemi’s temperature.

“He likes you.” Rengoku whispers into the silence. Your eyes snap up to his, hand pausing before you checked his temperature again.

“I think you’re very mistaken, Ren.” You corrected as Rengoku squinted his eyes.

“He told me you were his favorite…” Rengoku trailed off, looking up as if trying to recall the memory fully. You shook your head with a laugh.

“Ren, please.”

“No it’s true! He asked for you before he lost consciousness.”

“He probably said healer girl, there’s tons of us.”

“He said y/n.” You paused, looking over at Rengoku.

“He doesn’t know my name.”

“Of course he does! He talks about you the most when he’s drunk.” You blushed deeply suddenly. There was no damn way Rengoku had this all right. The man wouldn’t lie to you but he must’ve misheard. “He talks about your hair, he likes the color, and your laugh and-“

“Shut your- damn mouth.” Sanemi suddenly growled causing you to jump, his eyes were narrowed at Rengoku. Rengoku held in a laugh as Sanemi starts to sit up.

“No, no. You can’t-“

“I feel fine.” Sanemi pushed your hands away but he was grimacing and getting paler by the second. You swallowed before pushing him back down by the shoulders.

“You are not well!” You snapped. He looked at you surprised. You’d raised your voice at him, your eyes like molten lava. He was quiet, didn’t push your hands away this time. Your jaw tightened as you backed up. “You never listen to me so I’ll call another healer to-“

“No.” Sanemi cut you off. You stared at him.

“No?” You echoed angrily. He didn’t look at you, his cheeks were turning red, he must’ve been heating up again from being awake. He didn’t look even when he talked to you.

“I don’t want anyone else to help, I want the best.” You felt every nerve in your body heating up, your throat dried. The once anger you felt slightly calmed in your chest. Replacing itself with embarrassment or something close to it. You’d forgotten Rengoku was in the room, observing this moment when he cleared his throat.

“I think I’ll go for a nice walk, leave you two to… this.” He said, leaving swiftly. When the door shut and silence prevailed you cleared your throat.

“I’ll help if you don’t fight me on everything.” You said in the silence. For a moment you think he hadn’t heard you until slowly he nodded his head. You sighed, grabbing the rag that had fallen and running it back under cold water. “Lay back.” You directed and just like he promised Sanemi laid back as you dabbed the cold water on his cheeks and forehead. This moment was silent and intimate and for once you didn’t dread being beside him. That was until Rengoku’s words drifted back into your head. About you being his favorite and how he talked about you often when drunk. You almost laughed out loud at the thought.

“What is it?” Sanemi asked and suddenly, you had checked out slightly but blinked and you were back to reality.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response.

“You look— amused.” He says. Your thoughts must’ve shown a bit on your face. You masked over it and shook your head. You reached back on your cart for some more gauze and some solution and when you turned back Sanemi was watching you, not angrily like usual but almost reverently, like he was interested in what you were doing.

“I’m gonna replace your bandages.” You said and he nodded his head. You helped him sit up, he shivered at your cold touch as you unwrapped his torso. It wasn’t terribly bad, but the stitches were coming loose which had caused some bleeding. “Did you try and get up last night?” You asked as you reached for you medkit. Sanemi cleared his throat and you looked at him. He looked guilty. “You did didn’t you.”

“I felt fine.” He says sheepishly. Then adds. “But I passed out in pain before I could get out of the room.” He says and this time, even though through a patient doctor relationship it wasn’t funny, you laughed.

Stubborn as hell Sanemi had passed out because of his stupid actions. Karma. Sanemi looked at you, watched as you softly laughed and slowly the smallest smile spread on his lips.

“That’s not very professional of you.” Sanemi said and suddenly you realized he was teasing. He wasn’t some angry hashira he actually had a personality.

“You’re right,” You start in doing his torn stitches carefully. “It’s not funny.” You said but you were still laughing. That was when like the world had tilted on its axis and flipped 180 degrees. Sanemi pushed up slightly, damning the pain in his torso to press a fervent kiss to your lips. You froze, the moment slowly dawning on you. Sanemi, who claimed to dislike you and not know your name, was leaned over, hand tangled in your hair as he kissed you as if you were going to disappear at any moment. It was odd, but not a bad odd, just crazy. You’d sooner think lightening would strike you inside rather than this man kissing you. And something even stranger was that you were enjoying it, it felt as though everything else in the world had paused around you. Allowed you to have this one moment to yourselves. He kissed you feverishly, like he’d die if he pulled back. That was until Sanemi cursed against your lips.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling back, pain splintering all through him. You blinked back to reality at the sight of fresh blood flowing from his wound.

“Oh-“ you gasped, reaching for a cloth, pressing it against the flowing blood. Clearly he’d lost his mind, so sick and riddled with pain that he kissed you. He probably had no idea he’d done it. You rationalized stupidly as you pressed the rag a bit more and slowly the blood cotted. You both didn’t say a word as you slowly stitched his wound back together, lifting him up to rewrap the gauze. When you laid him back down he weakly caught your wrist. His eyes were so soft on yours. You shook your head. Whatever he had to say it wouldn’t really be him thinking it.

“You’re not yourself right now.” You said but his grip tightened just barely.

“You think a little pain would make me kiss you?” He asks. You burn red all over, you open your lips to speak but he pulls you to him by your wrist, you mouth falling against his. He kisses you more desperately this time. A hand reaching up and sliding into your hair, pulling you even closer to him. You’re coaxed entirely to easy into his lap and you feel him whimper in pain against your lips. It’s a sobering sound. You pulled back, this couldn’t happen.

“Sanemi, we shouldn’t-“

“I want you.” He whispers into the space between you. Rengoku’s words coming to fruition right in-front of your eyes. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.” You laughed, fully pulling back from him.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not that sick.” He refuted, you reached your hand out, pressing against his forehead, he was warm but not burning up like before. “Y/n-“

“No. I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” You snapped. Sanemi watched you curiously as you gathered up your things.

“Why not?” He asked as you looked at him in disbelief.

“Because I don’t believe you.”

“I kissed you twice, what’s not to believe?” He argued.

“That you kissed me in the first place! You— you hate me!”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do!” You threw back. Sanemi shook his head with some sort of finality.

“No. I really don’t.” You stared at him, anger bubbling up.

“Then why call me healer girl? Never using my name when I tell you too! Or annoying me and being rude? Is that how you treat people you care about?” Sanemi stared at you as you spoke. He swallowed and looked away. Nodding his head a moment later.

“I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to what? Treat me like a person?”

“I didn’t want to fall for you.” Sanemi growled, eyes jumping to yours. Your mouth fell open with the confession. “I thought if I was rude to you that you’d just— that you’d stay away from me. But you didn’t. You kept showing up, being charming and unbelievably beautiful and stupidly funny I couldn’t— I couldn’t help it!” Sanemi growls, huffing. You blinked. You felt as though this was for sure a dream. You pinched yourself but you weren’t waking up. You were really unsure what to say. You’d spent so much time despising Sanemi and now you weren’t sure how to feel about him at all. Everything made sense now. He was always around, you were always trying to help. You tried to make him laugh and talk when he didn’t. He was falling for you all this time and you had no idea. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you said truthfully.

“Maybe you feel the same?” He asks and you shook your head.

“You never really talked to me. I barely know you.” You said practically and he looked away from you embarrassed. But you were attracted to him, you felt something when you kissed. That had to count for something. You swallowed dryly and set your stuff back down. You walked and set on the chair by his bed. You went through the motions, checking his vitals and temperature. It was quiet and awkward. When you were done Sanemi caught your wrist as you stood.

“Let me apologize.”

“Apologize?” You echoed.

“For how I treated you.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“Shut up.” You said and when his eyes widened in surprise you leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips. The kiss lingered this time, something fluttered in your stomach when you felt his hand just barely under your jaw. When you pulled back he huffed, his breath tickling your cheek. “You better be very nice the next time you see me.” You whispered in the space between you.

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi! I loved how you wrote Sniper in the dating headcanons post. Your characterization of him is on point!

Could I please request how Sniper would act in the first instances of dating the reader? Thank you so much, have a good day!

→Honeymoon phase with Sniper!

Genre: slice of life, fluff, the slightest of angst

Characters: Sniper ofc

Eek!! Thank you so much, it’s so very obvious how much I favor him, haha! Let’s get this show on the road!

Sniper

Gets most his cues from you, he’s not so used to being in long committed relationships like the two of you have agreed on, so he’s mostly following your lead.

He can seem pretty apathetic in relationships at first, you have to really understand him as a person to know his true feelings and idiosyncrasies.

Early into relationships he almost pretends that he isn’t dating you, doesn’t make many alterations to your relationship besides occasionally holding your hand and kissing you.

He’s absurdly awkward, but he hides it by being quiet, can’t say the wrong thing if you don’t say anything at all amirite.

“Hey Snipes do you want to go out for dinner tonight?”

He looked at you for a moment before answering ���yup.”

You’re gonna have to be okay with planning all the dates and carrying all the conversations for a little while.

Incredibly insecure during intimate moments, not just during sex, but like just private moments between the two of you.

Always afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, this manifests mostly as inaction, but may make some jokes at his expense about it too. Mostly under his breath comments, things said in a laugh, he would die before he was honest about how he felt.

You may allow him to make the jokes as a sort of way to alleviate his stress, or alternatively you could express that you don’t like hearing him say that kind of stuff about himself, in which case he will stop immediately.

He would do whatever you told him to do, even if he protests against that idea to the moon and back.

Whenever you initiate physical contact with him he freezes, like full on holding his breath. He’s afraid that if he moves you’ll stop.

One night he was sat at the edge of the bed, just sort of staring zoning out as he is one to do.

You came over hands on your hips before gently racking a hand through his hair, bonus points if you call him handsome or something of the like.

Will totally blue screen, face bright red and just stopped his tracks. Whatever thought he was having vanishing into thin air. Secretly praying you don’t notice because if you do you’re going to think he’s weird and stop.

“Relax a little Snipes, this is supposed to be the fun bit,” you say gently.

“I-I’m relaxed, mate. All too relaxed.”

“Right, right.”

He’s pretty shit at communication as I’m sure you’ve gathered, will bottle things up until it all boils over, I could see it causing some problems later into the relationship.

Just be patient, it’s worth it.

He’s pretty clingy right off the bat, again hides this in his own way but it’s glaringly obvious. You’re the only person he’s been able to tolerate this long he’s pretty eager to keep you around.

You stood up on the couch, patting your thighs as you did so.

He flicked his head towards you in an instant “where are you going?”

“Oh,” you turned towards him, surprised as his silent strike has suddenly come to an end “just to the kitchen.” You pointed over you shoulder with your thumb.

He stood up and walked over to the kitchen, waiting for you against one of the counters, staring at the floor. You just kind of blink at him confused for a second. This is his van. The kitchen is quite literally a foot away from the couch and he still managed to follow you. He’s so sick.

Still calls you mate even well into the relationship, only starts calling you “darl’” and “love” about a year into your relationship. Even then he still probably calls you mate a lot.

He’s just really smitten with you and is absolutely trying his best.

Omg THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST THIS WAS A DELIGHT TO WRITE. I love this FUCKING dumbass so much. (≧∀≦)

[moonkake-143]

Memories of You | S.H.

A Steve Harrington x fem!reader oneshot

Word Count: 1.3k

Summery: Steve remembers how he fell in love with you and finally knows what love really is.

This isn't edited like at all but I wrote it the other night at like 3am and idk I felt like sharing. It's something I needed to write and I hope you all like it! Steve might be ooc but oh well lol

Steve Harrington was never observant, but he only was when it came to you. You met him in high school. He saw you in English class hidden behind a book, nose crinkled and eyes wide in awe at the words on the page. He smelled the sun on your skin as he passed you by as you talked with a long haired boy. But he was with Nancy, his eyes casted away from you and onto her with pure adoration. Or was it? Steve wasn’t sure how he felt with her, just that it felt right and safe. Then one day you ran into him in the halls, it was his fault of course. He was spacing out and turned a corner and there you were. His large frame had knocked you down and he was quick to help you. 

“Watch where you’re- oh it’s you…” 

Your voice dripped like honey in his ears and he swore he felt his heart pounding out of his chest. Felt the sweetness on his tongue but this was not the time for that. 

“You’ve heard of me?” 

He tried to be suave, tried to channel his long dead King Steve persona. But to no avail he cringed inside and apologized. 

“It’s hard not to hear of you but it’s alright I should have been careful.” 

You looked away from him and to the ground. You didn’t want him to perceive you, didn’t want problems with his friends. So you quickly gathered your stuff and scurried away like a terrified mouse. 

Steve simply stared at you before apologizing again. He tried to hide his awkwardness with a smile but the bell rang and you were lost to the sea of bodies along the halls. 

-

Steve remembers the day you kissed him. You were yelling at him about something he doesn’t remember. Maybe about the kids, school work, hell his parents? He can’t remember, all he can picture from that day is the way you grabbed him by the collar to shut him up with a kiss. A stark contrast to the shyness he was used to. He was stunned at first, his mind going blank, your lips the only thing he could imagine. They were soft and you tasted sweet, like strawberry chapstick. He remembers how wide you smiled after he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to kiss him again. How he didn’t want to stop kissing you, his lips kissing every inch of your face. You giggled and he swore the world disappeared. With Nancy he felt it was right.

But with you it was perfect, it was everything. 

-

Steve remembers the first “I love you” it was after he escaped the Russians. He was so badly beat up but he could only think about seeing you again. He was terrified to think he would die without ever telling you, hoping and praying that you were alright. That you were as far away from this as possible. Once the mind flayer was vanquished he ran straight to you. You were tired and looked a mess, tears stained your cheeks as you ran into his embrace. He held you tight, hoisting you from the ground like nothing. You were sobbing then and he couldn’t stop himself from crying with you. His voice fractured as he spoke.

“I didn’t know if I would see you again, I thought they were gonna kill me down there. But I just couldn’t let them get me knowing I had to come back to say I love you. God I love you so much sweetheart. You mean the world to me, I’ll fight monsters and Russians all over again if it meant I could kiss you one last time.” 

“Steve you idiot, I love you too. Fuck, you could have died! I love you so fucking much don’t ever fight anything without me next to you okay?” 

“Yes dear I am an idiot but I’m your idiot.” 

“Shut up and kiss me you sap.” 

And Steve did just that. 

-

Steve remembers saying “I do”. It was a nice summer day and the ceremony was small. It was attended by all of your friends and family. Robin was your “maid of honor” of course and she wore a suit because it’s Robin. Dustin was Steve’s best man because of course he was. His parents didn’t show, which was for the best he thought. His father never cared for you and his mother didn’t really try to sway him. But he didn’t care this was his day with you. 

He stood at the end of the alter with his suit and tie and his hair slicked back. He was so nervous, so clammy and when the music started and he saw you walking down with Hopper, he was stunned. You were perfect, beyond perfect that he couldn’t help but shed tears. Everyone awed and you smiled behind the veil. He sniffled when Hopper pat his back and handed you to him. Slowly he pulled up the veil and he swore he saw the stars in your eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful…” 

“And you’re so handsome…” 

Once the music settled and the crowd settled they began the ceremony. When asked for vows you pulled out a piece of paper and blew on it as faux dust spread. Everyone laughed and you giggled and he was laughing. You cleared your throat and he smiled bright. 

“Steven Harrington, yes I’m using your government name. We met when you mowed me down in the hallway in high school. But I’ll be honest to say that before that I had always kept an eye on you. You intrigued me, like a puzzle I couldn’t solve. However when I got to know you I realized that you weren’t a puzzle to be solved. But someone to be loved and cherished. You are an amazing man, you’re kind hearted, courageous and have amazing hair- but to me you are all those things and more. You are not a perfect man, nor am I a perfect woman but you are everything. I love you so much, that I want to give you everything because you deserve it, and I hope I can give that to you. Because you are my everything. Thank you for smacking into me in the hallway because I wouldn’t have gotten to marry my best friend.” 

You were shaking the entire time, he could tell. Your eyes were full of tears but you tried to keep them back to keep from ruining the makeup. You took a breath and looked up at him when you finished. When it was his turn he didn’t bother to pull out a paper because he knew exactly what to say.

“My darling sweetheart, I was always observant when it came to you. I noticed you in English class first, where you were hidden behind a book. Your nose would scrunch up and you would have wide eyes when you read the words. When you talked with your friends I would walk by only to smell the sun on your skin and feel like I was home. I was thinking about you that day we met. How you confused me, how you made me feel things I never felt before. How much I wanted to know your heart and your mind. You are a firecracker of a woman, you yelled at me all the time. But I deserved it to be fair. But you are kind, courageous and have the best smile I have ever seen in my entire life. My love for you can not be determined by a number because the number is so massive that it’s inconceivable. You were my everything before I was yours. I loved you before you kissed me that night we fought over something small. I love you now and I’ll love you until the world crumbles and turns to ash and there's nothing but rock. I want to give you the world and more because you deserve it. Thank you for being alive, for dealing with me. Thank you for giving me a chance when I didn’t deserve it. I love you so much.” 

Steve remembers kissing you surrounded by festive cheer and he finally knows what love is.

[sabotage-on-mercury]

I've never been one for New Year's recaps, looking back at the year's achievements (which achievements asks the imposter syndrom) and highlights, mostly because it forces me to look back at the year's low points as well. I prefer to sort everything away, nice and tidy, in the back of my mind, put on a smile and pray through gritted teeth that next year will be better - not out of conviction, but because it simply has to be. 

A few days ago, I stumbled across some lines from a fic I wrote a few months ago, and it stirred something in me. At the time I wrote it, I didn't believe a single word of it.

“Well, stay curious. And brave. You're not stuck where you are forever. It might take you a month or another seventeen years, but you will find something that keeps your soul alive. And it will be worth every minute searching for it.”

Sure, I was clinging on to life with a grim conviction that one day it wouldn't be so painful just to be alive. But that life could actually be good? Hard to imagine. 

For many years I never dared to look back, but today I feel brave enough to do so. 

And I see one of the darkest periods of my life. I see all the tears and panic attacks and hopelessness and anger. I see the days when I was sure I wouldn't make it to today. I see the wounds and scars that this time has left on me that will probably take some time to heal completely, if ever.

But there is something else that I see even more clearly. Little moments that shine as bright and warm as stars in the night sky.

I see the conversations with the most amazing people over tags, DMs, texts, phone calls, video calls that have brightened my days - and then the absolute joy of meeting my friends in person, being invited into their lives, going on trips, spending a wonderful time together, and the prospect of so many more visits to come.

I see moments of being brave, silly and irresponsible - and being highly encouraged to do so - and how that has given me my spark back.

And yes, I also see Good Omens, the comfort it continues to provide in spite of everything. And, of course, the amazing fandom, with its wonderful creators and creations that bring so much beauty to the world. 

I see the hours I spend writing, the joy (and agony) of bringing a vision to life, and the pride of actually finishing something - and then having people take the time to read my stuff and actually like it (still feels unreal). I see myself getting excited about new ideas that may never see the light of day, but that I still love telling to people who are equally excited about them. 

I see the people who have come to me for support or encouragement, who have made me feel helpful, who have made me feel like a relevant part of their writing process and their lives, which still fills me with awe.

I see the journey of finding love, for people, for experiences, for things, and loving them deeply. 

I'm standing here and I can say with certainty: I feel loved. And I'm so grateful for the ways, big and small, that people show it to me again and again.

I see all these people holding my hand and waiting patiently with me until sun rose again and beyond. And I feel at peace. 

And I can look back and embrace it all. 

So is everything all right now? 

No. I still have bad days, I'm still bitter about the challenges behind me, and I see the challenges ahead, and I know I have a long way to go, to create a life I want.

But I'm here. 

I feel alive.

I'm so, so happy to be alive. 

I'm beaming with excitement for the beautiful moments to come, however few or small they may be.

And it's worth every minute, every year I've spent looking for something to make me feel that way. 

So to all of you: Thank you.

You matter, to me, to the world, to someone in your life. 

Happy New Year!

[waihtie]

Gotta fit them in while I can (at work)

Season 4 Episode 18 - The Monster at the End of this Book

○ Lol this guy thinks they're LARPing

○ LMAO he's telling them about "Sam and Dean" in the book series "Supernatural"

● Lol the books are our real episodes

○ "I'm full frontal in here, dude" - Dean while reading one

Just think of all the background information they could get out of all of these books. They could know about all the things that they weren't there for

I'd also keep them as a journal

○ "Sam-slash-Dean"

" They do know we're brothers, right?"

" Doesn't seem to matter"

○ This girl pointing out their worst traumas 😂

○ Chuck Shurley

I really wish I had remembered him when I got to his big character reveal later on. I was like, "Am I supposed to know who this is?"

Also, I find him oddly attractive. I'm into it.

He wrote this season 4 books but never published them. The boys use this to convince him they are Sam and Dean.

"Only one explanation...

He's calling himself out for being a "cruel, capricious God" for writing out pain for them. Geeeeeeeeeez

○ Exactly what I meant before. Dean read out what Sam was thinking. They could gain so much perspective.

I wonder what it says regarding Dean's thoughts about Cas...

○ Chuck says Lilith is coming for Sam tonight

● Oh, literally. He says they, um, you know

They're using the newest book about what hasn't happened yet to get ahead of Lilith

○ Dean low-key calling Sam out for being a demon-fucker

○ Chuck talking to Sam about the demon blood stuff

Oh he's really messing with him while seeming so innocent

○ CAS, BABY

I will never get over how FOINE he is

He's saying Chuck is a prophet and must be protected

Cas saying these books will be known as the "Winchester Gospel". The only Bible I'd read.

Chuck pretending he doesn't love being in the story

○ Dean wants to run, Sam wants to stay

○ DEAN PRAYING TO CAS 🩷🩷🩷

Cas helping Dean, even though as an angel, he really really shouldn't 🩷🩷🩷

He can't say "no" to a begging Dean

And looks soooo good doing it

Look how cute he is trying to act so Dean will get the hint

Archangels are tied to prophets. If a profit is in danger, the full force of Heaven Will Rain Down (this is what they can use to fight off Lilith)

○ Lilith and Sam standoff

She's offering to stand down because she knows she'll die before the end of the war

In return for Sam and Dean dying. The life of two for the life of billions.

Kiss Sex to seal the deal (they don't make it)

○ Which archangel are we about to meet?

Apparently none. Lilith dipped out first.

○ Zachariah showing up to Chuck to threaten him into not warning the boys about what's coming, and to write lies to trick them

The first time they go off of God's plan (don't follow it / break it. Powerful)

These get so long, but I never know what information I'm going to need later

I know some of the funny/hot/entertaining things I definitely won't need later, but I just like them too much to keep them out

[tilly-poppies]

Feveruary Day 3: "Caught in the Rain"

Sickie: Wooyoung

Caretaker: Seonghwa

Word Count: 1700

A/N: This was actually the first story I wrote, and it was originally meant to be for the Sicktember prompt "Train Ride," So I guess you can consider this a double prompt but from two different events 😅. Biggest shout out to @darl-ingfics for reading part of this and encouraging me to keep writing. She's a huge reason I even had the courage to make this account at all. Please go check out her stuff, it's so good.

--------------

Seonghwa gazes out the fogged train window, idly watching damp blurs of grey zip past his vision. Heavy rain patters against the glass in a steady rhythm, and it doesn’t seem to be letting up any time soon.  It’s early– too early to be awake. Apparently nobody else got the memo, as the train is at full capacity, filled to the brim with damp, downcast civilians on their way to their early morning shifts. Seonghwa is lucky he was able to find them a seat before the city crowd filed in. What a miserable day for a train ride. And speaking of miserable…

Wooyoung, who’s been sulking against his shoulder for the last ten minutes, coughs wetly into his hoodie sleeve before swiping it once under his nose. He whines, a tiny, nasally, pitiful little sound that makes Seonghwa’s heart clench. He peels his eyes away from the rain-washed landscape to focus on him, giving his shoulder a light squeeze in a show of sympathy. 

“We’ll be there soon, Young-ah. Hang in there.” 

Wooyoung snuffles into Seonghwa’s shoulder and groans. “Didn’ wanna go in the first place,” he grumbles before burying his face into the fabric of Seonghwa’s sweater to muffle another wet cough there. His breath hitches, and he stifles a congested sounding sneeze into the same spot. 

Seonghwa grimaces and resists the urge to squirm away from Wooyoung’s shameless spreading of germs. He would probably scold him if he didn’t currently look and sound so pathetic. Above all, he just feels sorry for him. 

Seonghwa sighs and pulls Wooyoung a bit closer, running a hand up and down his arm when he shivers.

“I know, Jagiya, but you’ve had a fever for two days, and your cough isn’t getting any better.”

Wooyoung huffs and sticks his lip out in a pout. “Such a mean hyung, makin’ me go to the doctor. Meanest hyung.” 

Seonghwa chuckles, amused. At least Wooyoung feels up to being a brat. “I thought you said Hongjoong was the meanest hyung yesterday when he made you take that cough syrup,” he says, brushing his long fingers through Wooyoung’s hair. 

Wooyoung somehow finds a way to pout harder. “You’re both conspiring against me. Only Sannie cares about me.” 

Seonghwa snorts, both incredulous and fond. “Why, because he snuck you the ice cream that I bought you, with my money?” 

Apparently Wooyoung doesn’t feel like coming up with a comeback to that, so he just reburies his too-warm face in Seonghwa’s shoulder, sniffling wetly. Seonghwa scrunches his nose up at the sound. 

“We really should have put a mask on you,” he says, listening to Wooyoung’s congested breathing right in his ear. He has no doubt he’ll be down with the same cold himself within the next few days. San too, probably. 

Wooyoung is clingy on a good day, and it’s only amplified when he’s not feeling well. Seonghwa had tried to avoid it as much as he could, but he’s always been weak to Wooyoung’s puppy eyes. Throw some feeble shivers and a sniffle in, and Seonghwa had quickly lost the battle. 

Still, he’s been careful the last few days while taking care of Wooyoung- remembering to wash his hands after every interaction, taking extra vitamins, drinking extra water. He has some sense of self preservation, unlike San, who’d been attached to Wooyoung’s side since the first sign of illness. It’s sweet, but will definitely cause more trouble later when San inevitably goes down too. Seonghwa can only pray his own immune system will hold out long enough to deal with them both when it happens. Wooyoung always needs extra attention when he’s sick, and San has trouble acknowledging when he needs to just stay still and let his body rest. They’re a handful when they’re both unwell at the same time. 

He pities Hongjoong, who will have to deal with all three of them if his immune system decides to betray him. 

“Hyung?” A soft voice pulls him from his musings. 

“Hm?” He peers down to see Wooyoung looking up at him, eyes red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion. 

“Thank you, for taking me. You’re not actually the worst hyung. I know I’ve been a bit much.” He turns his eyes to his feet and coughs into his elbow, looking sheepish and so, so tired. Seonghwa’s heart aches for him. 

Wooyoung always gets a bit emotional when he’s sick.

“Baby, you’re never too much.” He pulls him closer, wrapping both arms around him. “You’re not feeling good. You’ve been sick for days. You’re allowed to complain,” he guides Wooyoung’s head back to the crook of his neck and rests his cheek on his hair, “and you’re allowed to hate the taste of cough syrup. I would call Joongie mean too if he made me take it.” He pauses to bring a hand up to Wooyoung’s neck and give it a brief squeeze. Still so warm. “Actually, I’d probably call him something way worse.” 

Wooyoung laughs, but it’s watery, the sound choked and trembling as it tumbles from his lips. Seonghwa immediately pulls back to cup Wooyoung’s cheeks in both hands, gasping softly at the hot tears welling up in his eyes and trickling onto his fingers. 

“Oh Wooyoungie.” He pulls him right back in against his chest, rocking gently side to side as the frustration and exhaustion and persistent fever of the last few days finally catch up to him. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He coughs, hard. Seonghwa pats his back in a weak attempt to loosen up some of the congestion. “I don’t know why- why I’m crying,” he gets out between ragged, gasping breaths. The sobbing definitely isn’t doing his cold any favors. 

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa whispers into his hair. “You’re sick and tired. You can cry. I’m right here.” 

Seonghwa’s soothing only makes Wooyoung cry harder. A few other train-goers glance up at the commotion, and Seonghwa can’t be bothered to acknowledge them while he continues cradling Wooyoung’s head to his chest. 

Seonghwa hates this. He hates that Wooyoung has been feeling awful for days, and he hates that he had to drag him onto a cold, dirty train in the middle of a downpour to go to urgent care. He would much rather have him home, in his own bed, medicated and bundled in blankets with Yunho’s humidifier running. But his congestion had moved from his head into his chest, and there’s a horrible rattling sound that comes with every cough, and his fever has been up and down for two days, falling just to rise higher when the medicine wears off. Seonghwa is convinced this isn’t just a cold anymore. He knows the doctor’s visit is necessary. 

That doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

Seonghwa is startled when he feels a featherlight tap on his wrist. He peers up to see a sympathetic looking older woman sitting in the seat across from them, holding out a travel pack of tissues. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are soft– knowing, almost. Seonghwa wonders if she has kids. He mouths a very sincere thank you, bobbing his head in a grateful bow. She smiles at him before turning back to her phone. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung’s tears have slowed, but have left him a sniffling mess. He pulls the collar of his coat over his nose and sneezes four times, far too tired to stifle them like he usually does. They're still quiet though, muted by heavy congestion.

Seonghwa rips open the pack and plucks a few tissues out before pressing them into Wooyoung’s hand. While Wooyoung attempts to clean himself up, he pulls out a few more and tenderly dabs the tears from Wooyoung’s cheeks.

“Ugh, gross,” Wooyoung rasps, words catching on the phlegm in his throat and throwing him into a brief coughing jag. Seonghwa hands him another tissue so he can hack out the obstruction in his lungs.

“Do you feel a bit better after crying?” Seonghwa asks, reluctantly taking the soiled tissues from Wooyoung’s hands and shoving them into his coat pocket to be thrown out later. 

Wooyoung shrugs and plops his head back onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Yes and no, I guess.” He sniffles. “I’ll feel better when we’re home.” 

Seonghwa sighs and presses a delicate kiss to Wooyoung’s forehead. “Me too, Young-ah. Me too.” 

——

The trek from the train station to the urgent care building feels much longer than it should, Seonghwa’s umbrella rendered virtually useless by the onslaught of wind throwing the rain sideways against their faces. Seonghwa does his best to block Wooyoung from the worst of it, but both of them are thoroughly waterlogged by the time they finally trudge through the doors and check in. 

Wooyoung goes through the whole visit in a haze, Seonghwa doing most of the talking in his stead. After he’s given an unsurprising flu diagnosis, they’re sent on their way with a prescription script and well wishes. 

The ride home is much more uneventful than the ride to the urgent care. Wooyoung has long since knocked out against Seonghwa’s shoulder, completely spent from the whole ordeal. He still shivers in his sleep, and Seonghwa’s lips pull down in a frown at every little quake. 

He knows Wooyoung needs the rest, but a selfish part of him wishes Wooyoung was awake, just so he could distract him from his own anxious thoughts. 

It feels like either minutes or years later when they finally stumble through their apartment door. Seonghwa gets a very winded Wooyoung sitting down on the shoe bench so he can remove his wet shoes and socks. 

Seonghwa holds back a groan when he hears footsteps rushing towards them from the hall. He’s really passed his limit with talking to people today. 

He looks up and sees Yeosang running up to him with an urgency that immediately has him tamping down his frustration. 

“Hyung, finally you’re home. There’s-” Yeosang pauses, looking them up and down. “You’re both soaked.” 

Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose. “What is it, Yeosang?” 

“Oh, sorry. Um, there’s a bit of a problem. Sannie-“ a high pitched sneeze rings out from the living room like a dark omen. “He’s running a fever.” 

[winchesterwild78]

By Your Side

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (together), Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Tessa-Reaper

Warnings: mention of death, coma, out of body experience, angst, fluff, language

A/N: I was tagged by @jackles010378 to write a short story about Season 2 Episode 1. The reader is Dean’s girlfriend and while Dean is “dead” he sees her not leaving his side and when he wakes he finally says the words she’s longed to hear him say.

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. It’s based on characters and an episode from Supernatural, but doesn’t follow the timeline completely. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

You had stayed back at the hotel while Dean, John, and Sam were on a hunt. You weren’t feeling well, the flu, you think. So you stayed while they left. You’d been hunting with John and Dean for a few years now, and Dean’s girlfriend for just as long. 

John was against your relationship at first. He said Dean didn’t need the distraction and you didn’t need the heartbreak. However, you and Dean stood your ground and became a couple. You fought side by side, protecting each other and falling deeper in love.

As the hours ticked on, you started to get worried. Neither of them were answering their phones and they weren’t back yet. Where the hell are they?! They should have been back by now. Just then your phone rang startling you out of your thoughts.

“Hello?” “Hello, is this Miss Y/L/N?” “It is, who’s this?” “Miss. Y/L/N, this is April from Mercy Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for Dean Smith. He was involved in an accident and is in the hospital.” “Oh my god! Is he okay? What about his Dad and brother?!?” “They are fine, his brother is about to be discharged, if you’re able to, you really should come to the hospital.” “Please, tell me, is he alive?” “Ma’am, I think it’s best if you come up here.” “Just fucking tell me! Is he alive or not!!! It’s not that damn difficult!” You screamed into the phone. “He’s alive, but barely.” “I’m on my way.”

You grabbed your stuff as tears fell. On the way to the hospital you prayed to whoever or whatever would listen. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Dean Winchester! Don’t you do it. I can’t live without you.” You were sobbing and had to pull over briefly because you felt like you were going to get sick. Once you were sure you were done you headed towards the hospital again. 

You parked and ran towards the entrance. “Dean Smith, what room is he in?” You yelled at the woman at the desk. She told you what room and you bolted down the hallway. When you got in the room you weren’t prepared for what you saw. There he was, laying so still. He was bruised and banged up, with a tube down his throat. You pulled a chair to his side and grabbed his hand. 

“Dean, I’m here baby. You’re going to be okay. You can’t leave me, not now. Please baby, open your eyes.” You softly kissed his hand and laid your head down on his bed. Silent tears fell. Your phone rang and you saw it was Sam. “Hey Sam.” “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” “No, Sam. I’m at the hospital in Dean’s room.” “I’m on my way to you.” 

Sam walked in and hugged you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was going to call you as soon as I could. They must have beat me to it.” “It’s okay, Sam. I’m glad you and your dad are okay.” 

You turned your attention back to Dean. Slowly rubbing his hand. “I can’t lose him, Sam. I can’t, we can’t.” Sam placed his hand on your back, “I know.” Just then John appeared at the door and tipped his head to you. “How are you feeling John?” “Sore, but I’m okay. Thanks for coming.” “This is my place, right by his side. I know you don’t approve of our relationship, but I love him, John. My place is right here by his side.” 

John sighed and sat on the opposite side. The only sound in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor. You placed your head down on the bed again, silently praying and begging for Dean to wake up, when you heard an alarm go off. You looked up and saw Dean’s heart rate was flat. The nurses and doctor ran in with a crash cart and told everyone to step back. You stood and took a step back, mouth on the ground. Everything was a blur and the sounds muffled. Your focus was on Dean, everyone else faded away.

The doctor grabbed the paddles and yelled “clear” as he shocked Dean’s chest. Dean’s body jumped and you gasped. Sam grabbed you and tried to pull you out of the room. You pushed him off, “No! We have to stay here with him. We aren’t leaving!” 

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and John, but Dean was there. He was standing beside his bed looking at you and hearing every plea and seeing every tear. He walked over to you, brushed your cheek with his hand, “I’m here baby.” Dean looked up and saw a woman who looked right at him. He followed her out and finally caught up to her. “Who are you, and why can you see me?” “My name is Tessa, and I’m just like you. In the inbetween.” Dean followed her around the hospital and asked her how he could get back to you. She always answered in vague ways and it started to frustrate Dean. So he went back to his room.

The doctors and nurses were gone, his heart was beating again and there you were. Sitting next to him, holding his hand. “I love you Dean, we love you. Please don’t leave us.” You cried and held his hand tight. He wished he could feel you holding his hand and wipe your tears away. 

Sam walked in the room and saw you still sitting next to Dean. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t you stretch, grab some food and just take a break. I promise I’ll call you if anything changes.” Dean stood to the side watching his baby brother trying to convince you to leave his side. He grinned, “Good luck, Sammy. She’s a stubborn one.” “Sam, I love you, but right now I need you to leave me alone. We’re NOT leaving his side. I love him and my place is right here.” “Y/N, we aren’t leaving him, but we need to be strong for him. That means eating something and taking care of yourself too. 

Sam didn’t notice it, but Dean swears he saw you lightly brush your hand to your belly. Dean’s eyes went wide. “We love you, we’re not leaving him, we can’t lose him.” Oh my god, you’d been sick for a few weeks, Dean thought to himself. He bolted from the room. “Tessa! Where are you?! I need to know how to get back in my body! I can’t leave her, not now. I need to tell her how I feel about her.” Tessa appeared next to Dean. “Dean, I don’t know if it’s possible. It’s your time to go.” “What? How do you know that?” Dean’s face searched for answers in Tessa’s. “Dean, I’m not a ghost, I’m a reaper. I’ve come to take you away.” “The fuck you are! I’m not leaving her.” “Dean, it doesn’t work that way. When it’s your time, you have to go.” 

Dean went back to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “I know baby, I’m trying to get back to you.” John came back into the room to check on Dean. He saw you still sitting beside Dean. “Y/N, you have to eat something. You have to stay healthy and keep up your strength. If not for you, think about the baby, please.” “Why do you care? You didn’t even want Dean and I together. Why do you care about the baby?” “It’s still my grandchild and I see how much you love my son. Don’t worry. I’m going to fix this. Just promise me to love him even on the tough days.” “John, you know I will.” He placed a soft kiss on your head and walked out of the room. 

Dean stood dumbfounded. His father knew you were pregnant and didn’t say anything. Dean tried for what seemed like hours to jump back into his body and nothing worked. He left the room and went to find John. He was confused to see John in the basement of the hospital. “Dad! Don’t do it!.” Dean saw his dad standing in front of the yellow eyed demon making a deal. Before Dean could see anything else, he was zapped back into his body. 

When you realized he was awake you called for the nurse. They removed the tube and he sat up. You threw your arms around him. “Oh my god, Dean. We almost lost you. I love you so much. Please don’t do that again.” Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you. “Thank you sweetheart, thank you for never leaving my side. I love you.” You pulled back with tears in your eyes. Dean had never said those 3 words to you. “What? How did you know I didn’t leave your side, and Dean you love me?” 

“I saw you sweetheart, I saw it all. I’ve been so stupid. I have loved you from the moment I met you. I knew you were it for me. I love you, all of you and anyone else that comes along.” Dean placed his hand on your belly. “Dean, how did you know? I was going to tell you after this hunt. I had taken a test when I started to get sicker and your dad walked in the bathroom as I found out. We both agreed to tell you after the hunt. He wanted your head to be clear, and I wanted to make sure you all were safe. I knew if I told you I was pregnant, you wouldn’t have gone on the hunt.” “Oh sweetheart, I love you so much.” He kissed your lips gently. 

John walked in the room and saw Dean was awake. He leaned down to hug Dean and whispered something in his ear. Dean’s eyes went wide and he looked over at you. As John stood up he walked over to you, “Take care of him and that baby. For the record, I think you’re perfect for him. Take care of each other.” John hugged you and gave you a kiss on your forehead. Something felt off. 

John left the room and went back to his. Sam came back in and went to check on John. When he walked in the room he found John dead. Sam screamed for help but it was too late. 

When you and Dean were told, he realized John had made a deal with the demon to switch places. Dean remembered what Tessa told him, that it was his time to go. Then he woke up. You held Dean as he sobbed at the loss of his father. Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Dean. He loved you and Sam so much.” Dean looked up at you, “He made a deal, Y/N. He took my place.” “What?! How do you know?” Dean told you about his experiences while he was in a coma, and what Tessa had told him. You cupped his face, “Oh Dean, he sacrificed himself for you, for our baby.” 

You and John never really saw eye to eye, but you would forever be in his debt. He saved the love of your life so your child could grow up with their father. You started to cry when the magnitude of his sacrifice hit you. 

“Sweetheart, I love you and our baby. I will always be thankful my dad put us and our baby before him. I can’t wait to live the rest of my life proving I’m a man worthy of that sacrifice.” “Dean, you’re already that man. You’re the love of my life, the father of my unborn child, an amazing brother and son. You protect with every fiber of your being, even people you don’t know. You, Dean Winchester, are the most worthy man on Earth.”

Dean took you in his arms, “I’ve been a fool. I should have told you what you meant to me before. I shouldn’t have let myself almost die to tell you what you mean to me. I love you, Y/N. Yesterday, today, forever. Seeing you by my side, refusing to leave showed me how much you mean to me. You’re my best friend, my confidant, my lover, the mother of my child, you’re my biggest cheerleader, and I love you!” 

Dean placed his hand on your belly, “I love you too, little one. I will be there to protect you and teach you how to be strong and love and fight for the things and people you love.” You placed your hand on his and smiled. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you, Y/N, so much.” 

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[f1nalboys]

confessional ; lester sinclair

Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2280

WARNINGS: nsfw, no sex, priest kink, blasphemy, perverting the catholic faith etc, hands free orgasm, some nasty stuffs going down in the confessional, cumming in his pants, talk about sacreligious fantasies, corrupting lester teehee. not really proofread, based off of this thing i wrote

The confessional booth is dark and quiet. As Lester sits in the small wooden seat, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, resting on his robes, he ponders for just a moment if this is his true calling. He wonders if the other priests, all older, more experienced and devout, struggle with the thoughts he does. Lester has no time to think about it as he hears the confessional curtain slide open, the clinking of the eyelet rings against the pole having him sit up a bit straighter. 

His thumb runs over the rosary as he listens to the person settle into their side of the booth. Lester swallows heavily as he stares forwards into the wooden door, at the carved wooden statue of his Lord and Savior nailed to the cross, shifting in his seat. He knows the penitent cannot see him, that he is shrouded in darkness and separated by the old wood and lattice, but he knows God can see him and he must be careful. Careful with his thoughts, careful with his actions, careful with leading the flock to the path of righteousness. A hush falls over the booth.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” Lester’s eyes widen slightly and he can feel his pulse in his throat. He knew that voice, knew who it belonged to, and though he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but put a face to the voice. Your image manifests in front of him, translucent, a mirage against the grain of the door. “This is my first confessional.”

Lester nods, forgetting for a moment the image of you is purely in his mind. He clears his throat, which was suddenly dry, and smooths the purple stole. “That’s alright. This is one of my first confessions too, y'know.” He says quietly, a lie, and he can’t help but feel the corner of his lips twitch at the sigh of relief he hears you let out. He wonders what you look like right now, if you’re in your usual attire or something different. It was later in the day, warmer than usual, and he has to clear his throat again to rid his thoughts of what that might entail. “Just… confess your sins and I'll do my best to help lead ya to absolution.”

“Thank you, Father.” You take a deep breath and Lester waits with bated breath, unsure of why he is so interested in what you will confess. The sins have always blended together. Adultery, drinking, gossiping, materialism, jealousy, lying; he’s heard every sin a thousand times over and not once did he ever feel invested past his holy duty. But this is you, the young lamb he was meant to protect. 

No, Lester thinks to himself as you begin to speak, the young lamb God was meant to protect. Not him. “I’ve lied to people before, dozens of times, just to get a better outcome for myself. I’m selfish, greedy, and gluttonous.” Lester hears the waver in your voice as you speak and he wonders for a split second if you knew by his voice that he was the one taking your confession. “I don’t pray everyday, I‘ve missed Mass many times due to laziness…” 

He waits as you trail off to see if you continue speaking. When the awkward silence hangs over the booth like a raincloud he speaks, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even. “Ask for absolution and I can give it to ya.” He says, his accent strong and comforting, his eyes still on the wooden door. He had been sitting on the small wooden seat far past comfort, but the pain and ache in his back was no longer felt.

“Please… can you grant me absolution, Father?” 

You speak right away, as if commanded by him, and your voice sends a shiver down his spine. You were eager to be forgiven, listening to his every word. He realizes that he could steer you wrong, he could push you towards darkness instead of the light, and that you’d follow. He swallows heavily, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. They snap open. The lust for power burned heavy in his heart; he could tell you whatever he wanted and you’d believe him. You would do anything if he said so.

“I can. Say five ‘Our Father’s’ and you'll be forgiven.”

“Thank you, Father.” You say and Lester swears he can hear your relief. 

He keeps his eyes closed as he brings his rosary, an old flashy thing with a red sapphire in the center his mother had passed down to him, to his lips. You begin to murmur the Act of Contrition, Lester whispering along to his part. “Go in peace.” He says, settling back as he waits to hear you stand, for the curtain to be pulled back and for yet another member of the congregation to enter and for him to start the process over again. It doesn’t come. “You alright, sweetheart?”

His voice is etched with concern, his eyes opening and for the first time, he allows himself to look over through the lattice. Your silhouette is there, your head bent down, your hands clasped into prayer, and he nearly gasps at the want that stirs in his stomach. He can’t see you, but now that he faces you, he can see your outline, he can smell your perfume, he can just barely make out the curve of your lips as you whisper hurriedly to yourself. When your head moves up, he sits back as quickly as he can, staring at the door.

“I didn’t confess everything.” 

“That’s alright. Do you wanna confess more?” 

“I do but… I’m afraid it’s sacreligious.” 

The words nearly take his breath away. “Sacreligious?” He says, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He won’t say it - can't say it - but he wasn’t sure that was possible. Not with you, at least. “I think you should kneel and confess.” It’s out of his mouth before he means to say it, his accent growing stronger, but he hears the sounds of you moving from the creaky wooden bench onto the ground. He keeps his eyes on the door but he can see you there, knelt on the ground with your hands clasped at your face, looking up at the lattice with wide nervous eyes.

“I… I suffer from impure thoughts, Father.”

Lester grins softly, shaking his head. “That’s hardly sacreligious. It’s-”

“It’s about a priest, Father.” Lester stops talking, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He blinks, sure he misheard. But he hears you sniffle and he clears his throat slightly. “I-It’s one of the priests here, at this church.”

“Which priest?”

“I can’t-”

“The only way for ya' to be absolved is if you’re completely honest with me.” Lester says, ignoring the guilt building in his chest. This is wrong. He has a holy duty to steer these people right, to the word of the Lord, and yet now he was ever so slowly moving his hand up his leg to his crotch, pushing his robes up to his hips so he can gently press his palm against his bulge. “The Lord is kind to those who trust him enough to confess their deepest sins.” 

Lester hears you sniffle again before you make an affirming noise. “It’s… it’s Father Sinclair.” Lester bites down harshly onto his bottom lip to hold back a noise. The copper taste of blood fills his mouth as he closes his eyes, humming. “I know it’s wrong… I’ve only been coming here, to church, for a few weeks, and with every other priest I’ve been able to control my thoughts. But… there’s something about Father Sinclair… I know it’s wrong of me, Father.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures you quickly, though his voice is thicker than it was before. “No need to cry. These… thoughts that you’ve been having… can you go into detail?” Lester’s head leans backwards, thunking against the wood. “It's important to be honest, you know? You have to tell the truth if you want to be free.”

“I… do I have to?”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then yeah, ya do. You’re embarrassed because you know it’s wrong. It’s hard to be truthful but it’s important. It’s for the salvation of your soul, sweetheart.”

“Okay…” You take in a slow and deep breath and Lester prepares himself for the filth that would soon be flowing from your sweet lips by ever so slightly rubbing his palm against his bulge. It’s almost impossible for him to hold back his hiss of pleasure, but he does so, God willing. His eyes close though he swears he can still see the accusatory stare of the wooden Jesus in the darkness.

“Take your time and remember; you gotta be honest. The complete and utter truth.” He’s not sure if he’s telling you or if he’s begging you. 

A few moments pass and he holds his breath. You begin to speak quietly, your voice close to him now with your position on your knees closer to the lattice that separates you both, and he briefly wonders if this is how God feels when he hears prayers. He wonders if God feels the swell of pride in his chest at the sheer devotion he has been shown or if he is above that. All Lester knows is that he is not.

“I…I sometimes think about him when I’m alone at night. I.. touch myself.” Lester hums, low in his throat, his hand grinding down just a little harder. “I think about him there with me… touching me, telling me how to touch him.” You let out a choked noise, surely a sob at your sins, but Lester hears it as a moan. “Even when I try to think about something else, my mind drifts.”

“Spirits willin' but the flesh is weak, s'that it?”

“Very weak.” You reply and he can almost see you nod your head. “Sometimes during his sermon I drift off… I start thinking about him bending me over one of the pews,” Lester makes a choked noise, trying to cover it with a cough, his cock aching against his pants. He wants to pull his dick out but he knows he will never, ever, be able to go back once he does that. The punishment God had in store for him was already grand, there was no reason to push it just yet. “And whispering in my ear about how I feel better than any earthly thing he’s ever felt.”

“I-I see…” Lester says, his eyelids heavy as he opens them and looks down at his lap. Even in the dark of the confessional he can see the dark spot that was growing on his pants and he is thankful for the robes he dons so he can shuffle out of here and back to his chambers without someone seeing the physicality of his failure. “Is that all?” 

His voice is strained, his hips bucking against the tight fabric of his pants, chasing friction he shouldn’t find enjoyable. He was so close, had only felt this way twice before, both times in the cloak of the night with his hand wrapped tight around his cock and a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. Both times he had stopped, pulling his hand away from himself with a sharp gasp and a furrowed brow, watching his cock twitch and leak until he forced himself to roll over and go to sleep.

“I… I’ve thought about touching myself even now while talking about it.” You say and Lester bites down so hard onto his lip that he feels the skin break underneath his teeth once again, coating them in red, his pants coated in white as he cums. His nerves are shot, white dots floating in his vision as he comes back down to earth. What he just felt, before the guilt and embarrassment and worry settled in, was the closest to Heaven he knew he’d ever get. “That’s all, Father. That’s the complete and utter truth.”

Lester swallows heavily in an attempt to keep his voice level. He isn’t sure if he had made a noise of pleasure when he came, but you wait patiently for his absolution, so he carries forward. He can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling its way up his spine, his cheeks turning pink as he stares down at the mess he had made of himself. “That’s… a lot.” 

“I told you.”

“You did, you did…” He sucks in another breath and blinks hard, trying to clear his mind. “Five Hail Marys and seven Our Father’s should work…” he plans on leaving it there, hoping to get you out of the confessional booth as quickly as possible, but his lips keep moving. “And I think you should come by weekly for counseling. You can request a specific priest, or whoever is available, and they can give you one on one counselin'.” 

“Will you do the one on one counseling with me, Father? I feel embarrassed about admitting this to someone else.”

“I… yes, if you’d like. But you would have to remind me of what you’ve confessed here; I don’t know your voice.” He says, stumbling over his own words. He turns to look through the lattice as you stand from where you’ve been kneeling, letting out a quiet breath of relief. He had gotten through this by the skin of his teeth.

“Thank you, Father Sinclair.” He can hear the smug smile in your voice and he lets out a low, throaty whine as his cock twitches pathetically. “I’ll see you next week.”