#i'm personally leaning more on the first one. where they all entered the book in a similar time frame but in different eras

[writeronartblock]

Finding out that Skully turned out to be a dead historical figure from CENTURIES before the current time and that everyone got their memories wiped after exiting the book.

I suggest an Necro no Hanayome AU where Yuu is the doctor and Skully's the corpse bride

[sansaorgana]

I don't quite understand if the requests are open, but I can't get it out of my head. Can you write something ​​about Gale Cleven/reader ovulating? (with smut please 🙏🏻🙏🏻)

I really love your writing!!!😭💗

hello, babes! 😊 I tried to write the first request of the Reader ovulating and them trying for a baby with Buck being some sort of a soft!dom and I hope he's soft!dom enough in this fic haha I always imagine him super sweet and vanilla personally tbh 🙈

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

You had a busy day running errands all around town since early morning so you sighed with relief when the evening finally came and you could take a long, relaxing bath before putting on a nightgown and go to bed to read a magazine. Your husband was in his study room downstairs where he was working on some papers for his work but he would usually join you in bed an hour before midnight to read a book as well. You enjoyed those quiet evenings the most out of the whole day.

You sat comfortably with your back resting on the pillow and opened the magazine to look for interesting articles. On one of the pages you spotted a nice advert of a new cosmetic brand. You tilted your head and bit on your lower lip, deciding you would like to try it. So, you opened the drawer of your bedside table and took out your small calendar to write down the brand’s name.

It opened on today’s date and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of a little heart that you had drawn there some time ago. That little heart could mean only one thing – you were ovulating. And because of all your errands on that day, you had completely forgotten about it.

You were actively trying for a baby with Buck. You had wanted a baby before his departure to Europe, actually – you had wanted to have his child in case he wouldn't come back. You hadn’t succeeded back then but in the end it had been for the best. If you had gotten pregnant then, Buck would have missed all of your pregnancy and the first year of your child’s life. But now he was back and the war was over. It was the best time to have a baby and you were determined; tracking your cycle, marking the fertile days in your calendar and following your doctor’s advice about the diet to increase your chances.

You put the calendar and magazine down before jumping out of the bed and fixing your hair quickly in the mirror; taking the rollers out as fast as possible and brushing the waves. Then you put some perfume on and caressed the slight creases on the nightgown’s fabric as you put on a gentle smile and walked out of the bedroom.

You went downstairs and knocked slightly upon the door leading to your husband’s study room. However, you didn’t wait for his reply because you only knocked to announce your arrival so he wouldn’t be startled – you didn’t do that to actually wait for his permission to enter. You pushed the door open and saw Buck sitting by the desk as he sighed at some paperwork in front of him.

“Baby,” you called for him softly and he raised his tired eyes at you.

“What is it, love?” He asked, gently.

“How busy are you?” You stood behind him and put your hands upon his tense shoulders to give them a quick massage. He hummed to himself at the feeling of your soft fingers squeezing all the muscle knots.

“Pretty busy,” he answered and you pouted. “What is it, sugar?”

“I’ve just realised that today’s the best day to make a baby this month,” you whispered, a little shyly. Buck looked up at you with a soft smile and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Really?” He asked and you nodded. “Oh, well, then that is more important. Come here,” he invited you to sit on his lap as he moved away from the desk to make some space.

You sat across his thighs and threw your arms around his neck to clasp your hands behind his head. Buck pulled you closer by your hips and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon your lips. When you broke the kiss, you pressed your forehead to his and rubbed your noses together. You moved your hands to his cheeks as your fingertips caressed the thin scars scattered on his face.

“I want to have your baby,” you breathed out. “Please, I want to make you a daddy,” you pleaded.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Buck kissed your lips again, “I’ll give my wife anything she wants,” he promised with a playful smile. “Come, sweetheart, let me put a baby in you,” he lifted you up as you squealed with a giggle.

Buck moved all the papers to the side in one swift move of his hand before placing you gently on the top of his desk.

“You want to make our baby here?” Your eyes widened at him and he froze with his hands on his belt as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me upstairs, baby,” you whined and put your foot on his chest playfully as he grabbed you by your ankle.

“You’re being a brat, Mrs. Cleven,” he warned and you chuckled. “You’re lucky that I’m so in love with you, you know that?”

“Sure, I do, Major,” you saluted and he rolled his eyes before lifting you up bridal style. You threw your arms around him and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

Buck opened the door of his study room with his shoe before taking you upstairs, taking each step very carefully because he didn’t want to drop you or fall down with you on top of him. You took that time to suck on the soft flesh below his ear.

When you finally reached the bedroom, Buck laid you down on the bed gently and admired you for a while.

“You’re glowing, baby,” he admitted.

“Yes, I am,” you nodded, “because it’s time for you to put a baby in me,” you reminded him. “So, what are you waiting for?” You panted and reached out for him as he shook his head and chuckled softly.

“I should teach you some patience,” he took his shirt off and put it neatly on the chair by the vanity table. A Major indeed – he would never just throw it on the floor.

“Perhaps. But we know you won’t because you love to spoil me,” you giggled as Buck took his belt off and put it on top of his shirt. “God, you’re taking so long,” you whined. The idea of him putting a baby in you was exciting enough but seeing him undress was making it worse.

“Alright, come here, little mama,” he finally joined you in bed as he positioned himself above you, wearing nothing but his underwear. “So impatient for your husband to take care of you?” He teased and caressed your face to get your hair out of the way.

“Just want my man to put a baby in me,” you crossed your legs behind his back as your nightgown pulled up and revealed your panties.

“Oh, I’m gonna. I’m gonna make love to you all night long,” he promised and put his big, warm hand on your womb. It made you giggle as you already imagined yourself swollen with his baby. He’d be the best father in the world just like he was the best husband and you wanted nothing more than to give him a child. It would make your family complete.

Buck joined your lips together in a sweet and gentle yet passionate kiss as he allowed his fingertips to run freely all around your body, making you shiver as goosebumps appeared on your skin. You pressed your hands to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. You loved him so much that it was making you dizzy to have him so close and all yours – after all those long months of him being so far away from you… you had been starting to forget that your husband was a real person made out of flesh and with a heart pumping his blood, with beautiful blue eyes and golden hair, those pretty long eyelashes and an adorable smile that reminded you of a little boy. You hoped your child would have the same.

But now he was back, he was here. You hadn’t made him up, he wasn’t a make-believe lover. He was real and he was yours and yours only.

You arched your back to give him better access to your breasts as he sucked on them gently and hummed to himself as he was holding you by your ribs.

“They’re gonna swell soon, little mama,” he murmured while he kissed you all around one of your nipples and then he moved to another. “Gonna be full of sweet milk for my baby.”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you tangled one of your hands in his golden hair to pull on it gently and caress it.

Buck looked up at you with his beautiful eyes as one golden hair strand fell down on his forehead and you gasped at how pretty he looked. It made him blush a little but also smirk. His hands moved down and slid your panties off of you easily. He tossed them aside on the bed and opened your legs further as you revealed to him your glistening womanhood. You would always get so much wetter than usual during your fertile days. And so much more needy for your husband.

You reached your hands out to the outline of his hard cock, desperately wanting him inside of you already. You pulled his underwear down clumsily before he shushed you softly and pushed your hands away. He took it off on his own as it joined your panties on the side of the bed.

Gently, he grabbed you by your thighs and moved you closer to him as easily as if you were light as a feather. He was strong and you loved it – especially the way he was able to make you feel so small and vulnerable under him. Your nightgown pushed nearly all the way up while you were being pulled down to line your entrance up with his cock, revealing your abdomen to him. You moved the sheer fabric of the nightgown out of your face and watched him carefully pressing the tip of his cock to your swollen and wet clit.

A shiver went down your body at the feeling as you moaned. Your fingernails digged into his bicep as the other hand tugged on the sheets.

Buck would always take his time with preparing you for his fat cock. He never wanted to cause you any pain or discomfort. He would rub circles on your clit with his tip as your muscles relaxed and only then he would slowly start to push the length inside, inch by inch, watching carefully your every facial expression and every sigh, every moan, every eye-roll. He savoured them but he also stopped all his movement whenever he’d notice you were in any amount of pain.

Breathing heavily, he lowered himself down as he finally pushed all of his length inside and gave you a while to adjust to his size. Your thighs were surrounding his waist, pulling him even closer as if it was possible. His face loomed over yours and he put his hands on both sides of your head.

“Open your eyes, baby, keep looking at me when I make you a mama,” he whispered and you followed as your eyelids fluttered open. You gasped at the sight of his face so close, his beautiful eyes looking deep into yours as he began to thrust his hips, rutting as deep into you as he could, determined to put a baby inside of you.

You moaned and moved your hands to his muscular shoulders, digging your nails deep into his flesh at the overwhelming sensation of his fat cock stretching you out and making you feel full. You looked down for a brief moment and got dizzy at the sight of your belly bulge and his cock’s outline so deep inside of your pussy. With each thrust he was hitting a spot that was making your toes curl and tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

“Eyes up, baby,” he crooned and you looked at his face again. “Good girl,” he praised and your walls squeezed around his cock. “My good girl,” he added, knowing perfectly well how his words were making you feel. “I’m gonna fill you up with my baby, you’re gonna be all swollen and sweet for me, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered his promises but with time his words were getting less coherent and audible as they were turning into grunts of pleasure.

Buck pressed his forehead to yours as his golden hair strands stuck to his sweaty forehead and you felt his body tensing while his hips’ movement became chaotic. He was close and you cupped his face; his cheeks pink and his full, soft lips slightly parted. He was a sight.

“That’s right, baby, just like that,” you encouraged him, “give me that, all of that, baby,” you pleaded as his spasmodic thrusts were bringing you closer to your own peak, too. “Make me a mama and I’m gonna grow your baby, I’m gonna make you a daddy,” you promised.

Buck moved one of his hands down and put it on your womb, pressing on it gently as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you could no longer force yourself to keep them open at the overwhelming feeling and a knot in your lower abdomen finally relaxing as you reached your high with a loud moan of your husband’s name. He spilled himself deep inside of you with a groan into your ear but he didn’t move an inch once your highs were gone. Still inside of you, he grabbed your thighs and moved them up to press them to your chest before joining your lips together in a sloppy kiss.

After a while you felt him softening and that was when he finally slowly pulled out but he kept your bent legs pressed to your chest in a steady grip as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He would usually keep you like this for at least five minutes for his seed to take.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he cooed to you. “Gonna be even more beautiful carrying my baby, you know that?”

“Why would I want it so bad if I didn’t?” You chuckled and he shook his head with a soft laughter. He let go of your thighs and you sat up to cling to him and pepper his blushing and sweaty face with soft kisses as your hands moved across his chest and arms to caress them. Buck put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to kiss you all over your cheeks as well. Both of your naked and exhausted, sweaty bodies were tangled with each other as you were sitting on your bed and sharing dozens of sweet little kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whispered.

“For what, sugar?” Buck moved away slightly as he cupped your cheek with his hand and raised his eyebrow at you. “We don’t know yet if we’ve made our little baby,” he smiled softly.

“No, I know. But thank you for coming home to me,” you caressed his ruffled hair to move it away from his forehead. “Thank you for being such a good husband to me.”

“You make loving you so easy, sweetheart,” he assured you. “You were right. I love spoiling you because you deserve the world.”

“I don’t want it,” you shook your head as your eyes widened. “I only want you, Major Cleven. You are my whole world.”

Visibly moved by your words, Buck laid you down carefully as if you were made of glass. He lowered himself as well, pressing a kiss to your womb and laying his head on top of it while his arms hugged your waist.You played with his hair and smiled softly at your husband.

“I hope you hear me if you’re there, little one,” he whispered into your abdomen. “You are so loved already,” Buck assured. “And so lucky to spend the next nine months under your sweet mama’s heart,” he added.

“And to have a daddy like Major Cleven,” you played along as you caressed Buck’s cheek. “I chose you the best daddy you could ask for, little bean.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[fawnsflowerbed]

leon x pregnant reader 🥹 you can choose the plot. just fluffy smut or just a fluffy fic. i love your leon writings

Thank you my love!! AlsO UGHHH YES THIS IS ADORABLE I LOVE IT!!!

Leon always wanted that classic white picket fence life with a loving spouse and a child. A perfect little life to call his own. Now that you’re well into your pregnancy, he feels the need to express just how much he loves you.

Warnings/content: Fem reader, 2nd person (you/yours), RE6 Leon, domestic bliss vibe, BIG OL’ FLUFFBALL!!

Word count: 2,400 (est)

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

All of those stories about motherhood being a blessing, glowing experience where you get to connect with yourself and your child on a cosmic level? 

Absolute bullshit. You were due in about 14 weeks and wanted this thing out. Did you love them? 100 percent. That didn’t mean you didn’t miss the days where leaning down didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in every muscle imaginable, or when you could actually sleep. Not to mention some days you marvelled at how a life was about to be brought into the world thanks to you and others you sat crying in Leon’s arms about how fat you were because you’d easily outgrown all of your clothes and some shoes thanks to the swelling. Hormones. Hormones were the devil.

But it was true, you found yourself running your hand over the rather firm skin of your belly in the sun streaming through the kitchen window, trying to ignore the ache in your feet whilst you stood in front of the sink. You could somewhat feel it, that bliss and awe of knowing there was a life growing inside of you. One that you’d made. No matter how sore you were, no matter how big your belly, you refused to be helpless. So you stood, glass in hand over hot soapy water. You gave it a final wipe down before setting it in the drying rack. Next you moved onto a plate.

“Excuse me miss, but you should be laying down.”

Leon’s voice had you turning to see him enter the kitchen, fresh from work but ever so happy despite his busy schedule. He’d been that way ever since you’d found out about your little one, a beacon of light and domestic joy. You hadn’t seen him this happy in a while, although there were a few occasions where he seemed this joyful; the afternoon he asked you out, the night he proposed, your wedding day, when you announced your pregnancy to him. He was happy around you, but positively ecstatic at those times.

“We’re lucky I’m even doing this without rushing to the bathroom again.” You scoffed.

His hands were resting under the weight of your swollen stomach, lifting up slightly to take some of the pressure off of your back. You had those pregnancy books to thank, Leon had studied those things like they were a mission briefing. He wanted to be fully prepared for up until the baby arrived, and that included keeping his beloved wife as comfortable as possible.

You groaned out with a creased brow of relief, lulling your head back against his shoulder. “God, that's so much better. Also I’m already on Kennedy house arrest, might as well keep myself busy while you’re gone.” 

He nuzzled his nose affectionately into the side of your face, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Yeah well I won’t be gone anymore. I’m talking to the board about family leave, considering the fact that junior is giving you hell.”

You frowned at him. “Baby, I'm not due for another three months.”

“First off, doctor said it’s actually 14 weeks.”

That earned him an eye roll. “Same thing, smartass.”

“Second, better safe than sorry. You’re still prone to swelling, and we’re more than comfortable money wise.” 

“How can I not be safe when I’m walking around with a husband for an ankle monitor?”

A grin crept up his face with a slight shrug, ensuring not to disturb you nestled into his shoulder. “At least I’m a handsome one.”

True, the morning sickness was a pain in the ass, stomach, throat and mouth and half the time the smell of certain things like citrus had you rushing to the toilet to throw your guts up, but god if you didn’t love moments like these. Where all you had to focus on was each other and the life you were building together, despite the world constantly trying to fall out from under your feet. This sense of normality amongst the chaos of Leon’s career and the strain it put on your lives that you both powered through, fighting for one another. And now you were both willing to fight for your child and the home you’d spent so much time working for.

With gentle hands he slowly lowered your belly back down much to your dismay, gaining him a disappointed moan as you felt the weight of your unborn baby drag you back down. He then reached around you to take the dish from your hand. Unwillingly you let him.

“Alright, off you go. Rest up on the couch.”

“I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” You grumbled. 

A sweet kiss to the cheek was the closest thing to an apology you got for his statement. “Well you might as well be. I love you sweetheart, but you’ve always been accident prone, pregnant or not.” He took a step back to allow you to slip out of his arms. “Go on now.”

So you did just that, taking your step by step waddle away from the sink and into the doorway of the living room. But not before calling back to Leon.

“Alright, but I’m still cooking dinner! You aren’t allowed near that stove!”

You could hear him huffing from where you stood. “You burn water once, I swear.” He turned his head into the living room for you to hear. “And you aren’t any better, your tastes have gotten weird.”

You couldn’t help but scowl playfully, shouting back. “It’s called cravings! Complain about it when you’ve got a 7 something kilogram bowling ball using your organs as a pillow!”

You were now making some kind of attempt to take a nap but god only knows that was impossible when your child was swimming olympic laps through your uterus and making a very rough effort to barge at your pelvis.

It was time for some mama to baby talk. You pressed both hands to your stomach, whispering down at your unborn baby.

“Listen here, kid. You’re gonna get the shit loved out of you when you get out of me, so how about cutting your mum some slack for now, yeah? Might even score you a puppy.”

“Are you making empty promises because Tiny’s putting stress on you?” Clearly finished with your job and likely planning to order something for dinner, Leon came in to see you talking down at your swollen belly.

“Not like they’ve been using my bladder as a trampoline since forever. Oh, and playing hide and seek around my goddamn ribcage. Perks of their daddy being a government agent, your stupid strength must be hereditary.”

He gave you a shit-eating smile, taking a knee down next to you as you stayed laying on the sofa. “I’m flattered. Means they’ll be a worthy crash tackle competitor.”

Another frown. “You crash tackle our child in the house and I’m putting you in time out.”

“Yowch. Got it.”

Once again you felt the short-lived embrace of domestic bliss, both of you staring intently at the roundness of your body thanks to the life growing inside of you. But something was still eating away at you.

You took his hand in yours to catch his attention. Leon turned to look at you, now seeing the concern on your face.“You’re not- scared, are you? Or is that just me?”

His light chuckle hit your ears as a sign of comfort. “Oh honey I’m petrified. This is scarier than anything I’ve ever done. But I know it’ll be worth it.”

You ran your thumb across his knuckles. “We both waited long enough for this.”

“God, if that ain’t the truth.” He swallowed, eyes looking down for a moment before he looked back up into yours. This time with a touch of sadness and longing. “I never- I never thought I’d get to have a family after everything that happened. After being strung along by my job day after day I thought I’d never have that life I always dreamed of having. But then I found you.”

A loving squeeze to his hand in return to his loving nature, followed by your own joke to lift him back up. “Yeah and your swimmer found the egg, asshole.”

Just as you planned he was smiling, leaning up and over to kiss at your forehead. “Grouch all you want, sweetheart. You’re allowed to, considering the fact that you’ve been carrying around an extra tiny human.” Then his hand was leaving yours to rest on your belly. “I just- I love you so much, and if this baby is anything like you then I’m confident we’ll be okay.”

You’d marry this man for a thousand lifetimes if you could. Leon had been nothing short of a saint to you ever since you’d met, and the glow of dating turning into marriage and then parenthood had made your bond stronger than ever.

Maybe it was from seeing you talking to them or maybe it was that fatherly instinct but Leon was now craning his neck down to start talking at your stomach.

“Don’t you go being too much like your papa, okay? You can take my rugged looks and cunning wit, and definitely my humour. But you’re gonna have your mama's heart. And hopefully her laugh.” He turned to you for a second. “Man, can you imagine if they have your laugh?” Now back to the baby. “You just wait until you can hear it properly, junior. Your mother has the most amazing laugh.”

You shrugged through sore shoulders. “It’s not that great.”

Your husband was quick to disagree. “I’m sure the baby thinks otherwise.”

“Well-”

And then there it was. A hard budge to the swollen shell of your stomach, right next to Leon’s hand as if reaching out at him. 

The first full forced movement. 

You both instantly looked at each other in awe despite your obvious discomfort.

Leon stumbled for a moment. “Holy shit, did-”

“That was a kick. The baby kicked.”

If you thought he was smiling before this he was now positively beaming with pride, drawn right back down to your child. “A kick. That was a kick! It’s like she hears me, oh my god.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, she?”

“I’ve got a knack for these things, your cravings gave it away.”

“Okay the fact that I wanted strawberries and cheese does not prove your theory, that’s a myth. They just made it look really good in Ratatouille.”

“Yes, and our daughter made you so emotional you cried when Remy got kicked out of the kitchen but that’s besides the point.” His ear was pressed right up against you, head tilted slightly against your tummy to speak against your skin to the baby in a soft voice. “Hey baby girl, do you hear me? You hear your daddy?”

Another swift kick, one that had you resting your own hand on your stomach with squinted eyes. Yup, strong like their dad. But you didn’t want to complain too much, not when Leon sat with his eyes wide and teary in absolute delight and awe. With two large hands cradling either side of your belly and an ear up to your skin almost in disbelief. The joys of fatherhood were hitting him all at once and it was nothing short of beautiful to witness.

“It’s like I can hear her heartbeat. There’s- that’s our baby. That’s our baby in there.” He was saying it quietly, as if to himself out of shock of the life inside of you.

“Lee, you’re crying.” You acknowledged with a saddened tone, wiping a stray tear from under your husband’s eye without even acknowledging your own thanks to your rushing hormones. “Honey, are you okay?”

No response, not yet anyway. He was still too busy memorising the way your child was responding to him. When the haze lessened just a smidge, Leon leaned up to rest his forehead against yours, a wide smile on his face as he spoke in a hushed whisper.

“I’m just so happy.”

Your heart could’ve broken right then and there. All Leon ever dreamt about was a family, ever since before Raccoon City. And he thought that dream was lost forever along with the place he’d sworn to protect on that day, but now it was your shared reality. He was about to have a baby with the love of his life, and he couldn’t be more thankful.

“Thank you, love. Thank you.”

You smiled right back, a smile short lived as you groaned out in pain, feeling the baby barging up against your bladder. That was your warning. “Oh yeah we gotta move. Bathroom.”

He shook his head slightly with a light-hearted scoff, blinking back up his tears. “On it.”

That was the cue for him to shift so you could waddle your way on sore feet to the bathroom, somewhat of a ritual at this point. If you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions or begging the baby to let you sleep, you were peeing. Leon stood outside the toilet as you finished up, leaning against the wall as you continued your conversation.

“I’m gonna hate you when this thing comes out.” You called out from the bathroom while drying off your hands, your voice echoing off the tiles before coming back out to join him.

Leon seemed to be the one glowing throughout your pregnancy, and he was showing it off right now in the way he stared at you like you were the most heavenly thing to walk the earth. He found you beautiful before you were pregnant, the most beautiful person in the world, but seeing you bearing his child just made you so much more gorgeous to him. “I’ve been warned of labour hate, I’m ready for it and the thousands of swear words.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, settled against the wall with his hands on your hips. “I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much that you have no idea. Thank you, for all of this. For letting me have you. You and our tiny.”

“We love you too, Lee. But get me pregnant again and I’ll have you neutered.”

[asoiafsworld]

BELONG TO YOU - two

pairing; ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings and tags; dealer!ellie, reader being shy and anxious, and literally not knowing how to talk to someone lol, weird dude being kinda creepy but hes barely there, joel is alive in this and ellie's biological father, sarah is alive too, mentions of jealousy, very slight allusions to smut, overall mostly fluffy

author's note; i'm still so floored by the amount of love u guys have shown the first part, thank you so so much. i hope you have fun with this!! also don't mind any typos i need to beta read tomorrow i just wanted to get it out lol

one

You feel stupid.

It’s friday night and the hallways are filled with people leaving their rooms to leave for parties and gatherings. You make your way upstairs to your floor and know that you will feel much better when you’re in your room, either continuing to study or lay down in your bed and do nothing but sleep. Your roommate is out at a party so you have some time for yourself, not that she’s often in your room to begin with. When you reach your door and look into your bag, there’s a second where you freeze.

It was just a few hours earlier that you were packing your notebook from your desk into your bag and took out your keys to make room when your mind wandered off to the encounter you had just three days earlier. The way this strange girl had just talked to you like it was nothing, smiled at you so sweetly and looked so fucking pretty had your mind spinning nonstop. You couldn’t stop thinking of her, no matter what you were doing… It was the first time in such a long time that someone simply spoke to you as a friend and you were desperately clinging on to the idea of talking to her again. In all that daydreaming, you hadn’t put your keys back into your bag and left them on your desk.

Since your roommate isn’t there either, she had locked the door when she left so there was no chance of getting into your room until the early morning hours when she would come back. You sigh deeply at your own stupidity and somewhat feel like crying when you realize that you don’t have anywhere else to go. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and simply choose to sit down on the ground next to the door for now. You let your bag fall to the ground next to you and lean your head against the wall, closing your eyes for a few seconds to drown out the noises you hear from the staircase. You want nothing more than to be in your bed and sulk at your loneliness and maybe dream more of the girl that plagues your thoughts. You see people coming down and up from the staircase and enter your hallway, most of them coming up to the door next to yours. You watch as a few of them knock on the door and are let in by someone you don’t see and leave again just a minute later with a little bag in their hands. You suddenly realize that the door they knock on and the room they enter is Ellie’s.

You know that Ellie is pretty popular around campus, mostly because people know her for selling weed. You don’t really know what to think of that, never having tried drugs or have the desire to do so. All you know is that despite the reputation that Ellie might have, you know that she’s a nice and kind person. To you, at least. In that one time you ever talked to her.

You shake your head at your naive thoughts and take one of your textbooks out and begin to read a section about the geology of oceans, not really reading but only thinking more and more of the conflict in your head. You feel so stupid for letting yourself get so invested in Ellie and the way she had talked to you, how easily she had talked to you and smiled at you. It was naive and stupid of you to get so invested into the one interaction you had with her but how couldn’t you? You’re desperate for affection and attention, just like every other human and you receive so little of it. Taking another deep breath to calm down, you try to concentrate on the book in your lap. From the corner of your eyes, you see a boy knock on Ellie’s door, looking like he’s headed to a party. You notice him staring at you but pointedly ignore his gaze, staring down at your book and at the words in front of you. The door opens and he’s let in and it takes every ounce of self restraint to look up and get a glimpse of Ellie. God, how could you let yourself be so entranced by this woman?

Ellie hands Jake his two packs of weed and takes the money offered to her in return. Friday nights are always some of her busiest times since most people come to get weed to smoke with their friends at parties on the weekend. He must be her last one however since it’s late and Dina and her other friends are already waiting for her. Jake thanks Ellie but before he opens the door, he turns around to her with a smug grin.

“That’s a cute ass neighbor you got, Williams.” He’s out of the door before Ellie can respond in any way and she frowns as he leaves the door open, not bothering to close it. Who the hell is he talking about? She walks up to the door to close it when she sees you sitting on the ground across your door, a book in your hand and looking up at her like a deer caught in headlights. She almost wants to run down the hall and strangle Jake for calling you cute. She doesn’t know why.

You’re not sure how to react when Ellie suddenly stands at the door and looks at you in surprise. She must think that you’re weird for sitting in front of your door and you almost wish that she hadn’t come to the door, that she would have pretended not to see you because this is pretty embarrassing for you. Her gaze goes from surprised to soft and… endeared? No, you’re reading into it, that’s definitely not how she’s looking at you.

“Hey. What are you doing here in the hallway?” Ellie leans on the doorframe and crosses her arms in front of her chest and the pose makes you feel… something. It’s as if she’s radiating this power, a natural dominance that she simply holds within herself. You feel totally normal about this.

“Uh, my… roommate is at a p-party. And I, uh… forgot my keys.” There’s a second where you feel like bashing your head against the wall behind you because of the way you speak. It just makes you so incredibly nervous because you’re so unused to interactions like this. Maybe the fact that it’s Ellie talking to you makes you nervous too… She’s so gorgeous and sweet and it makes your head dizzy to think that you’re talking to her.

“Oh, damn, that sucks.” She looks at you in empathy and then opens her mouth again to say something but no sound comes out. It’s as if she hasn’t come up with what she wants to say yet and it makes your heart clench because it makes her look so cute. “Do you… wanna come inside? You don’t need to sit out here the whole time and I doubt your roommate will come back soon. Besides, I wanted to show you my drawings.”

Your breath hitches and you stare up at her and try not to look like you want to bolt and run away. The idea of being in Ellie’s room and hanging out with her makes you feel excited and anxious all at once and the mixing of those two feelings is… definitely something. You try your best to put on a small smile and nod your head.

“Y-yeah, sure.” You’re scared that you will squeal like a schoolgirl if you say anything else. You put your book back into your bag and sling it over your shoulder as you stand up, giving Ellie another smile as she moves away for you to enter her room. Her scent hits you as you enter the room and you feel embarrassed about how you subtly smell as much as you can of her. She closes the door behind you and you look around the room, her beautiful drawings displayed all over it. There were many different ones of landscapes, people or animals, some of them colored and some not. They were hung all over the walls of her room and you admire how brave she is for letting her art be openly displayed. You step closer to a drawing of a man on a porch with a guitar in his hand. The drawing is one of the more simpler ones, not colored in and seemingly ripped from a journal page. You hear Ellie come up next to you and turn your head to her and smile at the way she looks at the drawing fondly.

“That’s my dad. I went easy on him, he looks ten years older than he is in the drawing.” You giggle at her comment, the sound coming out easier now that she’s heard it from you before. The way she had looked at the drawing had tugged at something in your chest… It’s similar to the feeling you got when you felt jealous over someone having a good relationship with their parents. You know it’s stupid to get jealous over something like that but you can’t help it, the squeeze of your heart is not something you wish for but it appears all the same. It feels different with Ellie, though… you don’t feel jealousy or envy, more like happiness. Happiness that she has a father in her life that seems to be good to her and that she loves. She deserves it, you think. She’s simply too cute to get jealous over.

“You… You’re very talented. Your drawings are all very pretty.” You take one last look at the drawing of her father and briefly wonder if he ever taught Ellie how to play the instrument. You’re sure she would be talented at that too. You continue to look at the other drawings and recognize her friend Dina from one of them.

“Thank you. It’s just something I do for fun and I enjoy it a lot.” You miss the way Ellie blushes over your compliment as you trace your eyes over a colored painting of a forest, the greenery of the trees and grass and blue of the lake so beautiful to look at. Your eyes wander down to her desk where she has a big collection of different comics sitting. You let your bag drop down to the ground as you reach down to take a closer look, curious about what Ellie likes to read.

She watches you with a small smile, her heart feeling like it will leap out of her chest at the way you pay attention to every detail of her drawings and comics. Ellie has never felt like this before, she barely knows you and yet feels so drawn to you in a way she never has before. She’s had a few relationships before but she’s never felt about any of her girlfriends the way she feels about you. You may be shy and reserved but the small smiles you would give her are enough to make her feel weak in the knees. She’s interrupted from staring when her phone buzzes in her pocket and she suppresses a annoyed huff as she pulls it out and checks the message Dina had sent her.

did u fall down the stairs or are u on your way to the party

Shit. The fucking party. She looks up from her phone to see you browse through the first volume of Savage Starlight and read it enthusiastically. You have a smile on your face as you read and your eyes are slightly squinted as you read and her heart does what feels like an acrobatic trick. She shakes her head and quickly texts back.

nope, not coming. got someone else to spend my time with who’s a thousand times cuter than sweaty drunk college girls

She quickly puts her phone on silent before sliding it back in her pocket. When she looks up, you have a bright smile on your face as you read the words and god, Ellie just feels like she needs to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you forever. You look up from the comic and at her, a sudden apologetic look on your face.

“I hope I’m not interrupting your night or something. I… I can leave if you have somewhere to be.” You try to hide the disappointment in your voice and suddenly feel so stupid for being here. She probably has a thousand better things to do than hang out with you in her room on a friday night.

“No, you’re not, got nothing planned. Besides, I invited you. I want you here.” The words leave Ellie’s mouth before she can stop them but for some reason, she doesn’t regret them. Yes, it might be embarrassing to say this when it’s only the second time you’re meeting her but she can’t really bring herself to care. You seem sweet but also very anxious so she would take on any embarrassment she might face in order for you to feel comfortable around her. Your eyes widen at her words and you feel dizzy at the words, from pain and from happiness. No one has ever said something like that to you or made you feel like they wanted you around. But she does. For whatever reason, this pretty, talented and funny girl wants you around and wants you here, in her room. It makes you feel so warm in your chest. You managed to nod and hide the incoming smile on your face.

“I… I want to be here too. With you.” You hope that you said the last two words so softly that she didn’t hear them. She smiles at your answer and looks down at the ground with blushy cheeks and oh my god, she���s so cute, I want to bite her cheeks. Your eyes widen a bit at your thoughts and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from actually doing it. Ellie looks up again and gestures for you to sit down on the couch that she comes to sit down on. You sit down next to her, still putting some distance between you but you can’t help but crave her closeness. You remember the way she had touched your cheek, her caress so soft and gentle. You wonder briefly what you would have to do for her to do that again.

“So, now you can see why I’m doing fine arts. You have to tell me why you’re into marine biology now.” The way Ellie speaks has you transfixed, your eyes looking more at her lips than anything else. You like the way she speaks so much and her voice is soothing to your ears. You wonder if besides possibly playing guitar, she also knows how to sing. It wouldn’t surprise you since she really seems to be multi talented.

“Uh, well, I-I grew up close to the ocean and often spend my time at beaches and with animals there. Was just always something that I was interested in, I guess. I also didn’t know what else I should do… So I went with this.” You stutter slightly as you speak and nervously play with your fingers as you speak. You try to hold eye contact as much as possible but it doesn’t really work since you have to keep looking away from her. God, she probably thinks I’m a weirdo. Can’t even talk about something so normal without being nervous.

“That’s nice. Must be cool growing up by the beach. I wouldn’t know, having grown up in a desert.” She chuckles lowly and the sound makes your head slightly spin. You raise your brows questioningly and she smiles at you, making you feel weaker than ever before.

“I grew up in Texas with Dad and my sister, Sarah. We later moved to Wyoming and now I’m here. Been living in deserts all my life… You wouldn’t know the things I’ve seen.” She says the last part dramatically and it makes you giggle a little. It makes you wonder if she’s like this with everyone… Truthfully, you expected her to be a much different person due to her being a drug dealer but she has been nothing but kind and sweet to you. Shouldn’t judge people so quickly.

You try to hide it but there’s a small sound that leaves your mouth as you yawn. You had been up early for a specific class and it was close to midnight now. Mentally you curse your roommate for leaving you stranded even if she’s not responsible.

“Oh, you must be tired. Come on, you can sleep on my bed, sleepy head. Your roommate won’t be back until the morning anyway.” You watch as she stands up and walks over to her bed in the corner. You stand up as you watch her pull the blanket on top away.

“No, Ellie, that’s really not necessary. I… I can just sleep on the couch.” You try to sound convincing but Ellie doesn’t seem to listen to your words. She turns back to you when the bed is ready and her eyes are still fond but serious in a way you haven’t seen before.

“You will sleep on my bed and I’ll take the couch, pretty girl. Unterstood?" The hairs on your arms stand up at the sound of her authoritative voice and you swear, you feel something deeply exciting and daring. Her words make you feel like a docile pet and the nickname doesn’t make things any better. You can’t do anything else but nod as you look at her hazily. She nods in approval and in that moment, you would get on your knees to get her approval. You swallow heavily as she walks to the couch with a blanket and pillow, setting up her sleep space quickly. You quickly get under the covers and drag the blanket up to your chin, desperately hiding your blushy cheeks. Ellie turns the light down and lays down as well. She looks back up for a second and wishes you a goodnight before lying back down again, her back turned to you.

You only then notice the scent on the pillow you’re laying on and almost want to moan at how much you’re enveloped by her wonderful smell. Along with the way her voice had sounded just minutes ago, it really didn’t help in how plagued your mind is by her.

You fall asleep like that, her smell in your nose, her voice on your mind and your hand wedging itself between your thighs.

[ari-freeworld]

'*•♡Finding Space In Your Heart ♡•*'

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03 - Two-Wheeled Tension

Pairing - Biker/Roommate!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

An - I'm so glad so many of you guys are enjoying this series!!! Hope you like this one, it took a while. Planning on making a few more parts. Anywayssss enjoy srry it's so long <333

Summary - After Kirishima moves in with his girlfriend, Mina, Bakugou finds himself in need of a new roommate. He’s on the hunt for someone who can tolerate his loud (and expensive) Ducati, his odd hours at the mechanic shop, and who is fairly tidy and able to pay their share of the rent. After having no luck finding the right person, his long-time friends Mina and Kirishima suggest an old friend of Mina's—enter you, a young professional writer looking for a place to live during your partnership with a publishing company.

Notes/warnings - Qurikless AU, aged up characters, Slow burn (eventual smut), cursing (it's bkg duh), drinking mentioned, fem/male masturbating, nsfw

wrds - 2.4k

01 , 02

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The morning of your first day at the publishing company dawned bright and early. Standing in front of the mirror, you meticulously checked your outfit, making sure every detail was perfect. Your nerves buzzed, making it difficult to keep your hands steady as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. Today was the day you had been waiting for—the start of your dream job—but the anxiety gnawed at you, threatening to unravel your composure.

As you adjusted your blouse for the umpteenth time, there was a knock at your bedroom door. Bakugou’s gruff voice filtered through. “You ready yet, princess?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door to find him leaning casually against the frame, his eyes raking over your outfit. His usual intense gaze softened slightly, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You look good,” he said simply, but the sincerity in his voice eased some of your tension.

“Thanks,” you replied, managing a smile. “Just... a bit nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re gonna fucking crush it. Don’t stress it.”

His words were reassuring, and you felt a rush of gratitude. “Thanks, Bakugou. I mean it.”

He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you could see the concern in his eyes. “C’mon, I’ll take you.”

The ride to the publishing company on Bakugou’s Ducati was exhilarating as always. The wind whipped past you, and you held onto him tightly, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. It was a short ride, but it was enough to clear your mind and fill you with a renewed sense of determination.

When he finally pulled up in front of the building, he cut the engine and turned to face you. “Knock ‘em dead, princess.”

You smiled, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. “I will. Thanks for the ride.”

With one last reassuring look, you headed inside, feeling a surge of confidence. The meeting with the publishing team exceeded your expectations. The room was filled with enthusiastic faces, all eager to hear about your ideas. As you laid out your vision for the book, their nods and smiles fueled your confidence. They were genuinely impressed with your work, offering constructive feedback and expressing excitement about the project's potential. It felt like a collaborative environment, one where your creative input was valued and encouraged.

Throughout the day, as you and your new team mapped out the initial plans and timelines for your book, you found yourself frequently checking your phone, eager to update Bakugou. Each break in the meeting gave you a chance to share a quick text with him. "Meeting's going well—they like it :)" you typed after the first hour, your words measured but conveying your underlying excitement.

Bakugou’s response came swiftly, a mixture of pride and his typical brusqueness: "Knew they would." His text was brief but supportive.

By the end of the day, you were mentally exhausted but filled with a profound sense of accomplishment. The team had outlined a robust plan for your book, and their enthusiasm matched your own. They welcomed your ideas and provided insightful suggestions that enhanced the project's scope and depth.

Returning home, you found the apartment empty. Bakugou was still at his shop, as expected. As you put your things away, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

“Gonna be late tonight. Don’t wait up. Eat dinner without me.”

The bluntness of his message was typical, but there was an undertone that felt almost sorrowful. After spending nearly every day together for the last couple of weeks, the apartment felt strangely empty without him. Each room seemed quieter, the absence of his presence a stark contrast to the energy he brought. The silence was deafening, a void that amplified the loneliness you hadn’t felt in a long time. Even after seeing him earlier that day, his absence weighed heavily on you.

You wandered through the apartment, each step echoing in the emptiness. The living room, which had become a shared space of laughter and companionship, felt hollow. The absence of his teasing comments and reassuring presence was like a physical ache. You couldn't help but worry that you were depending on him too much, that your growing attachment would overwhelm him.

Feeling the weight of the empty apartment pressing down on you, you decided to invite Mina over for some company. Her lively presence would be a welcome distraction from the pervasive sense of isolation.

Mina arrived with her usual energy, carrying a bottle of wine and a bag of groceries. “Let’s cook and get drunk,” she declared with a grin.

The two of you set to work in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces. The wine flowed freely, and soon the apartment was filled with the aroma of delicious food and the sound of laughter. As you chatted about your new job, the conversation inevitably turned to Bakugou.

You chatted about your new job, but inevitably, the conversation turned to Bakugou.

“So, how’s it been living with the hothead?” Mina asked with a mischievous grin, perched on top of the counter.

You laughed, a bit self-consciously. “It’s been... interesting. He’s been really helpful, and we’ve gotten closer. It’s weird not having him around.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Closer, huh?” Her tone was dripping with suggestion.

You blushed, trying to brush off her teasing. “It’s not like that. I mean, he’s... He’s Bakugou, you know? One minute he’s flirting just to tease me, the next he’s looking at me with those intense eyes, like he can see right through me.”

Mina chuckled, pouring you another glass of wine. “Well, maybe you should just fuck him and find out.”

Your head snapped up. “What?! Are you crazy? We’re roommates.”

“Exactly,” Mina said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “That way, you’ll know if there’s something real there or if it’s just sexual tension.”

You shook your head, trying to process her words. “But what if it messes everything up? I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Mina shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. “Life’s too short to wonder ‘what if.’ Sometimes you have to take the risk. Plus, I heard Bakugou’s last relationship didn’t end too well. Maybe he needs someone like you.”

For some reason, hearing that Bakugou was with another girl made your heart sting and your stomach turn. The thought of him being with someone else was like a knife twisting in your chest, sharp and relentless. You imagined him holding her, his rough hands caressing her skin, his lips whispering sweet nothings into her ear. The idea of him laughing with her, sharing those private moments you had come to cherish, was unbearable. It was as if every laugh, every fleeting touch you had shared with him was now tainted by the ghost of another woman. You hadn’t thought about it before, and now you wondered if he was interested in anyone now. Each imagined scene felt like a betrayal, making the loneliness you felt all the more suffocating.

“It would be weird…” you responded, but internally, you were asking yourself if it really would be.

After dinner, Mina left, and the apartment felt empty once again. You wrapped up the leftovers and placed them in the fridge, leaving a note for Bakugou: Don’t work too hard. 

The next few days followed a similar pattern. Bakugou was constantly busy, leaving early and coming home late. Each morning, you found a note from him on the coffee pot, usually something simple like Don’t forget your lunch. The notes were a small comfort, but you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of loneliness. You missed his presence, his voice, and even his gruff demeanor. You realized how much you had come to enjoy Bakugou being around. He made you feel taken care of in a way you hadn’t felt before. 

You especially enjoyed the moments when he came home from the shop, his cologne mixed with the faint scent of rubber clinging to him. There was something comforting about that smell, something that made you feel safe. And in the mornings, after his early workout, he would come in panting and sweating, looking out of breath but exhilarated. His intense eyes would soften when they met yours, and you felt a strange mix of admiration and longing.

One night, the loneliness became too much. The apartment was dark and quiet, and you found yourself thinking about Bakugou more than you wanted to admit. You missed his touch, his warmth. The need for him became overwhelming, and you found yourself craving his presence in a way that was both thrilling and frustrating. You worried if he felt the same way about you. Did he miss you when he was away? Did he think about you as much as you thought about him?

Without thinking, you retreated to your room, the need for release consuming you. You lay back on your bed, your mind filled with images of Bakugou. You thought about his strong, muscular body, the way his crimson-colored eyes seemed to pierce right through you. You could almost smell his familiar scent, a mix of cedarwood and something uniquely him. Your hand drifted down your body, fingers slipping beneath your underwear. You gasped softly, the sensation heightened by the thought of him.

Unbeknownst to you, Bakugou had come home early that night. He had planned to surprise you, but as he stepped into the apartment, he heard the soft sounds coming from your room. Curiosity piqued, he moved silently towards your door, which was slightly ajar.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch. You were sprawled on the bed, your hand between your legs, your eyes closed in pleasure. His name slipped from your lips in a breathless whisper, and he felt a surge of desire so intense it nearly knocked him off his feet.

He knew he should turn away, give you your privacy, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He watched, mesmerized, as you brought yourself closer to the edge, your body writhing with need.

In an instant, his pants grew tighter, and his breathing heavy. He looked down, his dick practically trying to free itself. He quietly unzipped his pants, his cock springing out and hitting his stomach with a thud.

He should feel ashamed, like a pervert. All thoughts were out of the window and he could focus on were your pants and the wet noises coming from under your shorts. He wondered what you smelled like, tasted like. God, he wanted to know what you felt like. How you would cling to him, while pounding you into the mattress. He would leave no place unmarked, biting you, sucking on your beautiful skin till it turned purple.

Your movements grew more frantic, and you arched your back, moaning his name louder. The sound sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't take it anymore. His hand moved to stroke himself, trying to match the rhythm of your movements. He bit his lip, stifling a groan, the pleasure mingling with the forbidden thrill of watching you.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, your eyes fluttered open. You were lost in your own world, oblivious to Bakugou's presence. You gasped, your body convulsing as you called out his name, the waves of your orgasm washing over you.

Bakugou's own release followed almost immediately, his breath hitching as he spilled into his hand. He quickly moved back, retreating to his room before you could notice him.

Slipping into his own bed after cleaning his mess, he stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. The raw desire he felt for you was undeniable, overwhelming. He wanted you under him, wanted to feel your body against his, to hear you moan his name in pleasure as he drove you to the edge and beyond.

But with that desire came a torrent of conflicting emotions. You were his roommate, his friend. He valued your companionship, cherished the bond you had built. He didn't want to risk ruining it by acting on his impulses. Yet, the depth of his longing made it hard to think clearly.

His thoughts swirled, vivid images of you beneath him, your skin flushed, your eyes half-lidded with desire. The thought of your bodies entwined, his name on your lips, consumed him. He ached to make it a reality, to cross the line from fantasy to truth.

He knew you wanted him too, with the way you moaned his name, the way your body responded to your own touch while thinking of him. But was that all you wanted? Just a good fuck? The uncertainty gnawed at him. Did you see him as just a means to satisfy your desires, or was there something more?

There was something deeper, something more than just physical desire in his heart. He realized how much he enjoyed the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your passions. These small things had invaded his mind and life in such a short amount of time, but he couldn’t quite grasp what they meant. He knew he wanted you physically, but he struggled with understanding what he wanted outside of that.

What if you did fuck? Would that be all there was to it? Just sex? The thought made his heart ache in a way he didn’t fully understand. He worried about what would happen to your relationship if he gave in to his desires. Would it ruin the bond you shared? Would it complicate things beyond repair? Would you both be able to go back to being friends, or would it always be different?

He thought back to his last relationship, the pain of betrayal, and the vulnerability he had shown only to be hurt in return. He had vowed never to let himself be that open again, to never let anyone have that kind of power over him. The scars of that betrayal still ached, a constant reminder of why he had built walls around his heart.

But now, lying in the dark, he felt those walls begin to crumble. The thought of you, the way you made him feel, was breaking through his defenses. His heart hurt at the thought of letting someone in again, of risking that kind of pain. But the desire to be with you, to have more than just physical connection, was even stronger. Yet, he couldn't fully grasp the depth of his feelings, remaining blissfully unaware of the feeling that was quietly blooming in his heart.

Sleep didn't come easily for Bakugou that night. He tossed and turned, his thoughts a tangled mess of want and restraint, desire and fear. He wanted you more than he'd ever wanted anything, and the realization only made his resolve waver.

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Tagssss - @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @uhnanix @sweetadonisbutbetter @daniwasnothere @lotusstarr @lainlovelain @sodavrr @juniper-july19 @n30nwrites @imsuperawkward

Lmk if you want to be added!!!

[octarinecat]

A challenge

Author notes: 1845 words, NSFW, Raphael x female Tav, TW: a lot of alcohol, foul language, minor violence, choking, mention of noncon

“You know what I noticed? That I've never seen you drunk. How is that possible?” Tav wondered aloud and turned on her side, looking at him expectantly.

Raphael finished reading a paragraph in the book and looked at her with amusement.

“That's impossible, little mouse. I'm immune to the effects of alcohol.”

“You have too much mass. Maybe you just drink too little of it to find that it works on you?” She continued to pursue the subject.

Raphael rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book. One of his hands dived under the bedclothes and he began stroking the skin on her thigh. Tav mused for a moment, but returned to the topic that was weighing particularly heavily on her mind this evening.

“I wonder how you would behave under the influence of alcohol. Would you be more aggressive? Or more mellow? Hmm…” She sighed loudly, but jumped up on the bed, as at that moment the cambion pinched her.

“Curiosity killed the cat!” He laughed in a low voice and closed the book. He then corrected himself on the bed and looked at her. “I don't mean to demean my person, who do you think I am? I would prefer your grey cells to focus on other subjects. Perhaps on my anatomy, or my fluency in several languages? Choose wisely, my dear.”

“Leave my grey cells alone. Ah so yes, lets make it a challenge. Prove to me that alcohol doesn't work on you.” She said in a confident voice, emphasising the word “challenge”.

“Challenge?” He laughed. “And what reward awaits me for proving to you how wrong you are? I'm concerned that the mere satisfaction of winning won't be enough for me." Raphael replied, and his eyes travelled downwards, where they stopped at her breasts with a dreamy look.

Tav clouded over, doing business with him had never been easy. “What more do you want?” She asked and bit her teeth.

Cambion leaned in and batted his long eyelashes, at the same time glaring at her with his eyes. In his mind, he carefully considered what he had just had to say.

“I want you to stay for more than a single evening.” He said, and his eyebrows raised in anticipation of her answer.

“For a weekend, for example?”

“One week is the absolute minimum.” He shrugged.

“Why do you need me for that long?” She asked expectantly, scanning his face with determination for the deeper meaning of his words.

“For entertainment.” He answered briefly and showed her almost all his teeth in a smile.

. . . . . . . . . .

Few days later they met up again in the front door of Elfsong Tavern, in the late evening.

“Ah, that famous den that has hosted so many heroes of Faerun.” He sighed and opened the door for her, allowing her to enter first.

They were struck by the heat of the great hall filled with people. The smell of roast meats and various types of alcohol filled their nostrils. She noticed how he wrinkled his nose in distaste. Raphael grabbed her hand and led her through the main hall up to a room with a stage further away. There were several musicians on the stage, playing cheerful music. They sat down at some smaller table.

“What do you fancy tonight, my dear?” He asked, discreetly observing his surroundings.

“Me? After all, you were the one who was supposed to drink today, weren't you? I don't plan to drink.” She was surprised, as she had not foreseen this option in her plan. She nervously looked around the stage, searching for a point of interest. “I'll have water, maybe something else later. Listen, someone has to be sober to get you home.”

Raphael laughed with amusement. “I'll bring something right away, don't move from here.”

After a long moment he returned bringing alcohol. Analysing the size of the glasses, Tav concluded that it might be whisky.

“Whisky? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, devil's blood whiskey. What else do you think you could drink? Beer is for the commoners, isn't it?"

Of course, he didn't bring her anything to drink except whiskey.

There was a little commotion on stage and the music became much livelier. A beautiful elf began to sing and tempt the people in the hall with their voice.

Tav looked at Raphael, who started sipping whiskey from his glass. His gaze moved lazily around the room. She knew that gaze, she had seen it more than once before. He was looking for the clients.

“Hey. You're not at work.” She returned her attention to him and reached for her glass.

“I'm not right now. But who knows, maybe I will be soon? Look at all these naive people, they're asking for a hell of a contract. I shiver at the thought of succeeding in tormenting an innocent soul today."

“Please, Raphael. You'd better focus on drinking. On relaxing. Charming me with conversation. Remember, that challenge of ours still?”

One glass of whisky was emptied. It wasn't much, yet Raphael was giving signs of a change in his mood. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and began to talk about an artefact that had recently caught his eye.

“...And do you know what happened next, my dear? At first I ignored this information, but when I met with another client I realised that…” Tav listened with interest to his story. His voice had a soothing effect on her. And perhaps it was the whisky. To be sure - she sipped it very slowly so that she could observe the changes in the cambion's behaviour.

A second glass. More buttons revealed his torso, drenched gently with sweat. It was terribly hot in the tavern, and people-as if there were more of them. She was also uncomfortably heated; she untied the straps of her shirt, which was not ignored by him.

“It's pretty hot in here, isn't it?” He stated with a sassy smile and scooted over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and, as unobtrusively as possible, brushing the lobe of her ears with his lips.

“To you, that's for sure. Oh, is the alcohol going to your head?” She laughed and took the last sip from her glass.

More glasses of alcohol were served and Raphael became more and more inebriated.

“...And I made him eat those eyeballs. Fucking animals. He thought he'd fool me, me?!” He finished with a loud bass laugh and took a long sip from his glass. His eyes occasionally scanned the room, Tav was convinced he was preying on someone.

The night was still young, the cambion was seemingly starting to get drunk, yet not quite. Tav went off to the bathroom for a moment, which did not go without a little dizziness, and when she returned she saw that Raphael was speaking in a raised and angry voice to a man, waving his hands in front of his eyes. She quickly walked over to him and instinctively grabbed his arm.

“Come on, leave the man. Why make a quarrel over nothing." She said and pulled him towards the table. Meanwhile, more glasses filled to the brim with alcohol appeared on the table.

She hadn't had time to sit down on the bench when he grabbed her by the hips and planted her on his lap.

“And then came the CLAW!” He murmured quietly then unexpectedly raised his voice on the last word.

“Oh hells! Raphael!!!” She shouted in surprise and a couple of people in the room burst into laughter. Tav blushed and glared at him. He answered her with a wide and dreamy smile. “Are you all right, my dearest? Did the little mouse get scared?” He cooed.

“So that I don't scare you! Don't do that again.” She scolded him and tried to sit down next to him, but was unable to move his arms tightly clasped around her waist.

“I shall.” He whispered, then slipped one hand under her skirt.

She quickly took his hand away, and his tongue untangled.

“You are so beautiful, I want you here and now. Spread your legs. You are mine and mine alone!” He said to her and began to bite into her collarbone without a hint of shame, additionally gripping her buttocks tightly, which would surely be visible on her body the next day as well.

“That's enough of that. That's enough already! Raphael stop right now!” She reacted by almost shouting. It wasn't her words that stopped him, however, but a physiological need. He pushed her onto the bench from his lap and left towards the toilet without a word.

As soon as he was out of her sight she poured the alcohol from the remaining two glasses into the pot of a plant standing nearby.

Raphael returned after a long minute, shaky and with his shirt unbuttoned all over.

“We're going home now!” She declared as soon as he looked at her. His gaze was frantic, completely different from the stoic calm he exuded on a daily basis.

“Let us go then, my beloved.” He replied briefly after which, without further ado, he grabbed her in half and carried her out of the inn through the back door.

“Fuck, Raphael! I'll rip your legs out of your ass as soon as you sober up!!!” She screamed and kicked the air as he put her against the wall and pressed her against it with his body. There was no one around them, only the faint rays of the moon illuminated their bodies.

“I just don't believe it!!!” She squirmed against the wall, trying to push him away. “You're disgustingly drunk!” She lamented further.

“Don't reject my love...!” He said and leaned in, his lips inches from her mouth. His hand went around her neck squeezing tighter and tighter, taking away her precious air supply. But at the last second something changed. He stopped.

Tav held her breath.

“I win.” He whispered in a coarse, exaggerated whisper and a big smile crept onto his face. His eyes glittered with self-satisfaction. So too did the set of fangs he revealed in his smile. Tav, on the other hand, was close to passing out, and in her mind she was already putting together a plan of self-defence.

“Wh-what?” She answered on one exhale.

“I won. I'm not the least bit hazed by alcohol. And you've convinced yourself that you don't want to see me like this at all. A valuable lesson for you, I suppose?” The cambion replied and released her from his embrace, placing her gently on the ground.

Tav punched him in the stomach until he folded in half and grunted. Raphael grabbed her wrists tightly to prevent more violence on her part.

“Have you been pretending all this time?” She shouted in anger.

“Of course I was. I was surprised you didn't notice. Who would have expected the devil to be a deceitful and deceptive creature?” He said with a confident smile. “Be ready, I expect you to turn up tomorrow and hand over my reward.”

[pendarling]

Approaching Exam

CW: Language, mentions of exam, studying, Math and English

I'm held hostage by the education system so here is a story revolving that.

Hero's pen clicked over and over again as the slow wind trickled in through the window.

They hated exams, and sometimes, they hated studying more than the results themselves.

Hero sat in the quiet room, a closed-off sector of the library that could be rented out for a few hours in a day, and they were lucky enough to get into one after weeks of waiting. They could see why it was so popular after all; the walls in the room allowed for complete silence, and it put Hero at ease despite the slight eerie sense of being alone. Their eyes glanced up at the sky through the window. The clouds moved so slowly, yet time seemed to go by fast. It made their stomach churn at the idea of being unable to get past the first page of the exam when it did happen, and time would slip by them before they got the chance to complete any of the answers. Their eyes flickered back down onto their page at the mathematical equations listed out in front of them.

"Fuck me." they sighed and ran their fingers through their hair. If Hero could trade their life as a student to become a full-time hero, they would, but being a hero didn't pay as well these days and eventually, as they entered adulthood further, they would need to look for a proper job.

'How annoying,' they thought.

The door knocked softly, and Hero turned in their seat as the entrance creaked slightly; their time wasn't up already, was it? They stared at the clock. About half an hour remained still, in walked what looked to be a familiar face, but Hero couldn't put where they'd seen them before. Their brows furrowed when their eyes met.

"Excuse me." The stranger spoke, "Is this room E1B?" They sheepishly laughed at the setting. "I think I'm supposed to be in here today." 

Hero pulled out their phone and checked the schedule they were emailed, "Mmm nope, it says here that this is my room."

The stranger turned their phone toward them as well, "Well, it looks like we got double-booked."

Hero leaned back on their chair, it looked like they'd be having company after all. With a small gesture of the head, Hero directed their new friend to the chair opposite the table. "Sorry." They mumbled they weren't sure why they were apologizing; it was the system's fault for scheduling two persons in the same room within the same hours.

They studied the new character as they set down their items and pulled out the chair. Hero wasn't planning on staring too much, but when someone looked this familiar to them, it was hard to look away. 

They turned their focus back onto their page, still stuck on question 6 out of 30. The practice exam had to be more challenging, and there was no way Hero would make it through tomorrow if they couldn't get this done today.

Sarah is a civil engineer working on a project to design a curved ramp for a pedestrian bridge in a city park. 

Hero ran their pencil under the words.

The ramp needs to smoothly connect two different levels of the park while adhering to safety regulations and accessibility standards. Sarah decides to use a curved shape for the ramp, represented by the function y=√x​, where y represents the height of the ramp at a given distance x along its length.

Hero sighed and ran their fingers through their hair; they were so bored. Why was Sarah even a civil engineer? With all that money to get through the education and become one, she could've instead lived comfortably and married a nice rich husband, assuming her status was at least middle class.

This scenario was so unrealistic, plus it's like ten times harder for women to get into male-dominated fields because of sexism. Hero rolled their eyes and skipped the question. They flipped their page and glanced back at the stranger now reading a book, but what caught them by surprise was their hand, idly twisting a blue highlighter they felt they recognized.

From the back of their memory, Hero recalled a similar situation. 

They sat on the floor bound by a rope. The mission of the day wasn't going as well as they had hoped, and Hero was left at the mercy of Villain while the other sat a few feet away from them on what looked to be a large desk. From their perspective, they could hardly make out what the computer screen in front of Villain was saying, but they could certainly see the way Villain effortlessly twirled the pen between each finger. They always wondered how they did that. 

As soon as their memories left them, it had become apparent. The familiar face across them was Villain.

But what could they be doing here?

There was no way Villain was seriously studying how to annotate for what looked to be an English exam. For some reason, Hero never took Villain for being a student themselves. To be fair, they sort of assumed most villains weren't necessarily part of any civilian activity, and certainly, no villain should be a student of the city they tried destroying. 

Man... if Hero could get Villain to destroy the school facility, they wouldn't be studying at all. However, seeing how diligently Villain remained focused on their work made Hero no longer interested in convincing them.

'Oh God,' Hero turned their face away from their direction, 'What if Villain recognized me and didn't say anything?!' In their bag, Hero knew they kept their dagger just in case they should ever be kidnapped by any particularly vengeful villain; they just didn't think it would be this person of all; they never seemed too fond of doing more than their work let them. Hero swallowed; in that case, they should prepare for a sudden attack if it did occur; there was just no way this was all a coincidence.

Booking two students into the same room? Are you kidding me? The system never messes up. This was clearly a ploy set up to kill Hero.

Their nervousness was felt as soon as their leg began to jump noticeably, shaking the table, much to Villain's delight.

"Excuse me," They set their eyes on them. Hero froze, "Please don't shake the table. I can't write."

"Uh-- sorry."

Hero reached down and unzipped their bag, slowly creeping the knife to their side; they would attack first; Villain wouldn't even see it coming. After unsheathing the blade from its case, Hero measured the distance between the two of them. The table really wasn't that large enough to stop Hero from jumping over it; maybe if they grabbed their arm or the collar of their shirt before throwing Villain down, they would have the upper hand. If that didn't work, maybe a kick or knocking a few items from the table for a distraction. 

Hero remained focused on Villain as their enemy remained unaware. Maybe they were aware and had already thought of all the different counterattacks they could use against them. In that case-- the element of surprise was most valuable.

"What?" Villain frowned at them. Hero shook themselves out of their head; they must've been unknowingly staring for too long. Well, no point in getting embarrassed over it now.

Hero's grip tightened on the handle of the dagger as they chuckled nervously, "Oh, I was just wondering--" They jumped from the table and shoved the blade in Villain's direction. With a calculated move, Villain swiftly moved their head, catching their wrist with their other hand but knocking themselves out of the chair. 

Hero jumped away from them, their ankle stung from accidentally hitting themselves on the edge of the table just as they moved. Villain didn't waste any time and lunged at them, quickly covering the space between them.

A solid blow to their stomach sent Hero stumbling back, and the dagger fell from them with a soft clank; they sunk to their knees, holding themselves from instinctively vomiting.

Villain grabbed the weapon and rushed to the open window, quickly locking it in place and closing its blinds. The room was a lot darker than Hero expected. Had that window always had shutters?

Hero hesitantly stood back up. The sharp metallic edge was pointed in their direction. "Don't even think about trying that again."

Their shoulder tensed at the thought of their next plan; they could run out that door, but what were the odds that Villain had already sent back up to encircle the place, and how would they keep civilians from getting hurt?

Villain licked their lips and inched closer, "Who sent you?" they demanded. 

"Huh?" Was Villain genuinely asking them that? Wait-- did Villain not recognize them?

They laughed softly at the idea of having figured out their enemy's identity before them. 

Hero, the idiot who couldn't get past question 6 on the practice math exam, could easily identify Villain. All this time, they had been under the impression that Villain was intellectually superior to them in every way, and although that may be the case, they were not one for remembering faces. It made part of Hero feel tremendous.

"No one." 

Their bag still contained a few other items of use, such as a small smoke grenade that would definitely come in handy. Hero would have to go online and do the practice exam from their computer; there was no way in hell they'd be able to collect all their things and run. 

Villain wasn't feeling very entertained with the prospect of having to forcibly recall to the best of their ability what they'd done to be assassinated during their downtime. Without letting their eyes leave the other student, they walked toward Hero's bag and reached down; Hero felt a sweat come on; did they know they were hiding more tools in there?

"Hey, don't go and steal my lunch money, alright?"

"Shut up." They pulled the tag attached to the bag and examined the student ID card intently; it looked like an actual student identification card, though the name didn't ring a bell at all. 

"Villain, I'm actually offended that you don't know who I am."

"My bad, I wasn't aware there was an exam for memorizing faces as well." They tilted their neck from side to side, examining Hero's unmoving position. 

Nothing about them stood out, but this person knew their name and must be a hero, at the least, seeing how their only sense of heroism was throwing themselves in danger-- a common feature among most heroes, but that didn't narrow down which hero, in particular, they were looking at.

"Not even my voice?" Hero glanced at them with a slight pout.

Their enemy racked their brain, still clueless about their identity, and their hands roamed around the pieces of paper Hero was working on. "Whatever, are you even a real student or did you just come here to distract me?" 

Hero didn't reply with anything other than a shrug. They didn't initially come to attack Villain, but they also couldn't let Villain live freely within their presence. 

Villain raised the practice exam questions to their face, reading the sheet as if searching for answers to help them understand who they were up against. "You didn't even do most of these right. How did you get 1.6667? It's not even listed in the multiple choice."

They threw down the booklet onto the table; Hero blushed, "I'm not good at that stuff. But don't change the topic, alright? I could've killed you if I wanted to."

"But you didn't." They smirked.

The door pushed open again, and Villain hurriedly tucked the dagger away.

"Excuse me~" A young woman and a few of her other friends stood outside, "We reserved this room for 6 pm...?"

Villain looked at the clock and then back at the group. "We'll be leaving now. Sorry about that." They looked at Hero and egged them to get to cleaning their mess. Their feet moved, albeit nearly struggling to keep themselves upright from the pain of their ankle. They should've been a lot more careful when it came to spatial awareness. Now wasn't the time to mull on that, though. 

Once they had left the library, Villain headed in the direction of their exit. "You still following me?" They spoke, almost irritated.

"You have my dagger, and I would like it back. Please." With a short flick of the wrist, Villain dismissed their request and continued on their way down the flight of stairs. Hero had momentarily wondered what would happen if they had just gotten on with it already, pushed Villain down the stairs and took back their knife. It wasn't like anyone saw it happen anyway; no one stuck around this long after hours, not even the faculty. 

Villain abruptly stopped in their tracks, still a little ahead of them. "Hero?"

"Yes?"

With a slight smile tracing their face, Villain spun their head around to look up at them. For a second, Hero was lost at what they were so happy about until it hit them, and they responded to their name at Villain's call. 

"Fuck you."

Villain simply hummed, satisfied, and moved on.

~~~ MASTERLIST

TAG LIST: @books-are-everything, @kurai-hono-blog, @iykyunho, @marvellousdaisy, @m3rakii, @crow-with-a-typewriter, @sceirlose, @90scliche, @wondergoddess475

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[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Carnal, chapter three

Summary: Sparks fly between Mattheo Riddle and Daisy Waters aboard the Hogwarts Express

Warnings: 18+, at least one mention of his cock, but mostly cuteness, fluff, Daisy using her wolf senses

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 1322

A/N: This chapter is so cute I wanna cry. Also, I'm not sure where I got the idea that Mattheo is left handed from, but I'm making it true for this fic.

Divider Credit to @enchanthings

Find chapter one here Find chapter two here

Chapter one/character mood boards here Chapter two mood board here Chapter three mood board here

Tag list: @helendeath , @sylviaonyx , @secret-sophieee , @hotcinnam0nspicy , @evaslytherpuff ,

In a small compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express, Daisy waited impatiently. Every few minutes she would lift her head, take a deep breath, and inhale all the scents platform 9 ¾ had to offer, searching for one person in particular. I know this boy is not about to miss the damn train. She tried not to fiddle with the silver wrapped packages on the small table in front of her, instead tapping her nails on the table. 

When a group of younger students tried to enter the compartment she quickly shut them down and sent them on their way. Sighing as the door closed she looked back to the open window, taking another deep breath. Grumbling as she didn’t pick him up yet again, she started to doubt herself. Pinpointing his location in only a couple hundred students was easy, but a couple thousand strangers, that may be asking too much of her only slightly enhanced human nose. 

Rising to her feet she opened the compartment door, leaning against the door frame. It was so noisy out in the hallway, she almost couldn’t take it. Closing her eyes, she listened hard, blocking out every noise she eliminated. No, he wasn’t here. Wait. The sound of a pounding heartbeat caught her attention. Ducking back inside she moved to the window, taking one more deep breath. Yes! There, through the steam and oil, sweat and fear, perfume and cologne, she found him, Mattheo Riddle. Throwing her hands in the air she did a little happy dance, proud of herself and ecstatic to soon be reunited with him. She wanted to rush into the hallway, wrap him in her arms, and have a long overdue heated make out session, but instead she closed the door of her compartment, picked up her book and relaxed in her seat. She knew he would find her when he was ready. 

Desperate to find his Daisy, Mattheo broke off from his friends as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Squeezing past groups of friends spilling into the hall, excited first years running around, and the Honeydukes trolley witch, he searched car after car for her. There has to be a better way. He wanted to simply run the length of the train calling her name but also didn’t want her to know exactly how desperate he was for her company. 

Finally, he found her, in the last car he searched. At first he thought she was asleep, curled up with her bare feet on the seat, a large book resting on her legs. But then she turned onto her back, raising the book into the air and crossing her ankles. It didn’t look very comfortable to him and she must have felt the same because she stood up, nose still buried in her book, and laid down on her stomach facing the window. This seemed to make her happy for a few minutes before she sighed and stood up. He pressed himself into the doorway of the adjoining compartment, not wanting to be caught watching her. The door slowly opened, her sweet voice ringing out into the hallway. 

“If only there were a tall, dark haired man to keep me company on this long, lonely train ride.” She sighed in a dramatic, dreamy way that sent tingles up Mattheos spine and when her hand suddenly jutted out into the hallway he took it eagerly, letting her lead him into the compartment, both of them laughing at how easily she’d caught him. How did she know I was there?

Fighting every instinct that screamed for him to pull her close he sat across from her, searching her face for any sign she was even half as excited to see him. His heart skipped a beat when her lips turned upward into a soft smile, her blue eyes bright with happiness. That smile told him everything; she was fighting just as hard against the invisible pull between them, but she was almost ready to give in. 

“How come you’re on the train today, Daisy? I thought you lived in Hogsmeade.”

“Maybe I wanted to see you…” Yes! “Or maybe I needed things I couldn’t get in town…” Oh. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both…” You little tease. She shrugged and then giggled, the sound of it making his cock twitch. “These are for you.” Her voice was much more sincere as she gently pushed the packages on the table towards him, looking at him excitedly. The telltale sound of pencils rattling in a metal case came from the two smaller packages, making his eyebrows raise momentarily. Did you buy me art supplies?

“For me?” Chuckling as she nodded, he pulled the big package close wondering why she would have bought him something and what it could possibly be. Slipping a finger under the paper he raised an eyebrow, feeling extremely soft leather under his fingertip. A journal, maybe? As the paper fell away he gasped. No, it can’t be. Oh Daisy, you incredible woman. A sketchbook cover, the largest one he’d ever seen, embossed with his initials. Opening it he let out a happy laugh.  She doesn’t miss a thing. It was designed for someone left-handed unlike the mass produced kind he saw in most art supply stores. Did she have this custom made just for me? He stood and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. 

Most of the things he owned had come from Draco, things his cousin had decided he didn’t want. Even Artemis, his beloved owl, had been originally bought for Draco. But this…Daisy had searched out something he was interested in, spent her time thinking of what he would like, and made sure it would be personalized to fit his needs. “Why? This must have cost a fortune, Daisy.” 

She looked up at him, those damn beautiful eyes of hers shining bright as though she thought the answer should have been obvious to him. “When spent for a good reason cost does not weigh heavily on the heart.” 

“But…” 

Her fingers brushed over his lips, stopping his doubt in its tracks. “The cost does not weigh heavily on my heart Mattheo.” 

Why must she be so poetic? “Say it to me plainly, Daisy. I need to be sure I understand.” He did understand, had absolutely no doubts what she meant, but he needed to hear it anyway. 

She took her time responding, tracing his lips with her fingertips, brushing her nose against his jaw. “You’re worth the cost, Mattheo.” 

The way she whispered her words set him on fire and without a second thought he kissed her, moaning as he felt her soft lips, tasted her. It was their first kiss, but it held none of the usual hesitation or shyness, only certainty that this was where they were always meant to be. He kept the kiss soft, loving, pouring all his unspoken affection into it. 

Her soft giggle as they pulled apart made him want to lay her down and take her right there, claim her until they reached the school then get her in his bed and keep going until the sun rose. But, he also wanted to take it slow. Mattheo knew the feelings between them were special, more special than he could comprehend, and it made him want to do this right, love her emotionally before loving her physically.

He sat down, pulling her into his lap, and picking up the sketchbook. “What do you say we break this in, pretty girl?” Snuggling her in even closer to him they spent the next few hours laughing and exchanging little kisses as he sketched. She eventually fell asleep, face pressed against the crook of his neck. Setting his pencil down, one of the two dozen high quality sketching type she had bought him, he wrapped his arms around her, sighing happily and closing his eyes as well.

[ssahotchnerr]

hey lovely, do u have any hcs about how hotch falls in love? like how is the process for him, how it happens... idk🥺 just aaron being in love

cw; description of sex- minors dni

so i see aaron being the kind of person who doesn't realize he's falling in love, until he's actually fully completely in love.

like there wasn't a point where he was like- "oh i'm falling for you," but rather, "i'm already in love with you."

aaron is overlooked a lot :( he's seen as the big stern man who doesn't smile, doesn't display emotions- so others wonder if he even has them to begin with, and it gets to a point where he even starts to believe it himself :( that he can be seen as nothing more, so he tends to get stuck in that ideology and mindset. that's who he is, and there's not much he can do to alter the idea- so he doesn't bother trying- it's easier to give into.

so when you come along, everything changes.

it's the little things that speak the most volume. most days, he would enter the bullpen, and as he's walking to his office, no one bats an eye in his direction. no greetings, and if they do happen to notice him passing, no one dares to say anything to him. he's the most invisible yet most uninvisible person there is; he's known, but yet no one wants to know him.

but when you join the team? he's taking the same route to his office but instead, you brightly smile and tell him good morning- and it's a daily occurrence. hehe that's the first time you ever made his heart flutter <3

and you don't stop there- you always ask him how his day is going, how jack is, show concern for him if he's in a dangerous situation, or you go out of your way to simply spend time with him. hehe you get teased by the others that you might as well move your desk up into his office, because more often than not that's where you're completing your work- all while spending time with aaron. you make him feel so special, and he can't remember the last time someone made him feel so important.

and if you have free time? - you spend it with him. and he wants to spend all his time with you. it's definitely a friends to lovers situation <3 the two of you get so close, it can't help but develop into something more.

just all of that makes him fall in love with you so easily- note previously again- he's already in love before the realization he's falling for you has hit him.

and aaron being in love <33333333 there's absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for you. you've made him feel important, you've changed his mind that he doesn't deserve to be hidden in the shadows, so you can bet he's going to stop at nothing to repay the favor.

if he loves you, he's going to make you feel loved.

he's the kind of partner who knows you better than you know yourself, he's able to key in on all your tells and read you like a book. he's knows the situations you get anxious in, so if you happen to enter one, he's practically attached to your hip- a hand on the small of your back, always leaning in to whisper into your ear to ask if you're okay, if you need to exit the situation, etc.. he'll always always always protect you.

and he spoils you endlessly <3333 whether it's sweet words, kisses, loving glances, surprise flowers <333 UGH he's constantly in awe of you, like he can't believe you exist, or that you're his to begin with <3 and he just loves touching you, he prefers to be maintaining some form of contact with you at all times <3. and when the two of you are having some intimate time, he's more focused on you than himself- he gets pleasure by pleasuring you. he loves love loves being in between your legs, and he gets so vocal about too hehe <333 he's constantly praising you, telling you how good you are for him. and as he's thrusting into you, he's just saying over and over again how much he loves you and how you were made just for him <333333 he literally worships you <333

there's nothing more special than a love with aaron hotchner <3

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 ꒱ 이희승

summary : the one time you can't seen to control yourself happens to be around the one person you find yourself fantasizing about

genre : suggestive, friends to ??, heeseung x gn!reader tws : language, kiss, suggestive content author notes : ariana better put some version of fantasize on ag7 or im ending my life haha... word count : 0.8k

there wasn't supposed to be a tension. the room was silent, reserve for the TV playing against soft taken breaths. however, you couldn't focus on anything but the man sitting on the opposite side of your couch. he stared at his phone — energy locked into whatever he was reading at that moment — hair creating a barrier against your piercing-gaze in his peripherals.

he had come over not too long ago, some time in the middle of the movie you put on to distract yourself from the workday you had just completed. too stressed out when you got home to even take your shoes off and exit the foyer for a couple of minutes; actually, your purse and keys still laid on the floor messily.

now, you do find yourself distracted, and it would be a good thing if it wasn't driving you absolutely insane. if he wasn't so oblivious to you and your presence.

maybe there was a tension, but he was none-the-wiser to it.

you tried to clear your cloudy brain, focus on the animations dancing across the screen, and not scenarios to get the man to finally attach his lips to you flashing through your head like a badly timed daydream.

you swallowed thickly, the lump in your throat dragging the entire way down into the pit of your stomach. you knew deep down he didn't care for you the way you so secretly did him. but, right now you couldn't care less what he thought of you, you just wanted him to think of you.

"heeseung," you exhaled, not even sure where you were going to take the sentence. he raised his head, phone settling in his lap. his sights locked onto you and suddenly you felt too warm for your own good.

honestly, you weren't even sure why he was making you feel some type of way. he hadn't said much since entering your home but, there was something about the man that was too intoxicating to ignore. he was like a good movie with a plot-twist, an enemies to lovers book with a cliff hanger. his aura holding you in rose-adorned chains.

and reality was, you wanted him to be yours.

you couldn't find the right words — actually, you couldn't find any at all. he took your breath away and made something so easy so fucking difficult. you weren't shy, never have been, but nonetheless he made you blush like a school-girl.

yesterday, you wouldn't have had a crush on him, but tomorrow seems to hold a different title — or maybe it was a momentary infatuation. a because of the proximity; lack of being able to pick from the bunch thing.

however, you knew the truth was exactly the opposite.

"hey, earth to y/n?" you hadn't noticed the smooth movements of the man until he was inches from your face: close enough you could smell a minty scent and a cologne that made your head spin. "what's on your mind?"

how could you tell him anything but the truth when you were barely seeing straight? there’s no doubt he could sense it now.

your head was starry with all-things him, the background fading away until you could practically crawl into his skin. you were trying so desperately to behave, to keep the distance from closing. you could lie to yourself and say that it wasn't really your desire to have him, but that lie didn't get any more convincing the more times you spewed it out.

you leaned ever-so-slightly closer, lips almost brushing. you half-expected him to back away — in fact, you were mentally prepared for it. on the contrary, you two were no strangers to flirting with each other. it wasn't even the first time you've been face-to-face like this. but, that was always short-lived and due to copious alcohol consumption.

"you." you breathed out against him, "i'm thinking about you."

the intensity of his eyes locked onto yours was too grasping to look away, despite the nervousness he drenched you with. his arms fell to the cushion on each side of your head, caging you between them. your breath caught with choking force as you gasped quietly. you didn't know why he wouldn't reply, back up or shatter your fantasy. but, then you caught him glance down at your slightly-parted lips and back to your eyes.

maybe, just maybe, you were too mentally weak to deny the gravity of this sober-situation. if you got up, you were sure your knees would buckle and you shivered with anticipation, stomach twisting out for him.

his voice was low, "can i kiss you?" he asked, flicking his eyes to what he wanted and watching your reply roll off them.

your heart rate spiked, palms sweating against the plush surface. your voice was barely audible when you finally forced out a reply, though he heard you loud and clear.

"please."

he finally broke the anticipation — the tension you were sure he didn't have a clue about. and, maybe he didn't a couple of minutes ago, but it's better he catch on later than never, right?

you never realized, until this moment, why the stories always described the pure lust of an awaited first kiss as crashing; but, the way he closed the distance could only be described as such. you might end up regretting it but at this exact moment, with his lips setting you aflame, you didn't have a thought in the world that didn't resemble him.

yesterday, you wouldn't have wanted to go up in flames but, at least, it was by his doing.

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[chronicbeans]

Lilith what will you do with her i wanna know

I'm not entirely sure, but I've been leaning towards the idea that Lilith is not actually Charlie's mother, and that's a lie Lucifer is telling her because Charlie has never met her mother before.

My version of Lucifer is a genuinely bad person. While he's sympathetic in the fact that he doesn't even have the basic foundation to know or learn what is right or wrong, he still acts freely based upon what he wants to do. Those actions he takes are very selfish and based on getting the most immediate pleasures in life without thinking for others. Considering that Lilith left Adam to gain her own independence, and I can see my version of Lucifer trying to control her once she does and enters Hell, I can't see any other option than them breaking up.

So, my version of Lilith might lean more into the idea that adoptive parents are just as much parents than biological ones, with Charlie meeting her for the first time and realizing that Lilith was never her biological mother, or her mother at all. However, upon realizing that Charlie doesn't know her biological mother and doesn't want to go back to Lucifer, Lilith takes her in and tries to help her find her. Overtime, Lilith does become a sort of adoptive parent to Charlie, being more supportive of the hotel than Lucifer ever has because she can recognize that many of the sins the clients are coming in to redeem themselves for are oddly minor compared to others.

In the end, Charlie probably will manage to learn who her "biological" mother is, learning that Lucifer created her from white sand in order to gift to a woman who is still alive on Earth that he fell for, having mistaken the fact that she is a member of The Satanic Temple to mean that she worshipped Satan. In actuality, The Satanic Temple doesn't believe in any sort of magick, Satan, nor does the religion worship those ideas. Upon finding that out a few months after meeting her under a human alias, and "gifting" her Charlie (letting her babysit Charlie because he was pretending to be a single father), he took it as a personal offence and never spoke with her again.

As Charlie grew up, she remembered bits and pieces of this mysterious woman, like her blond hair. Lucifer, in turn, said that her biological mother was Lilith. He had never truly gotten over Lilith leaving, and had never cared to learn the remember the name of the woman on Earth, so it was his go to lie. He claimed that Lilith had beautiful blonde hair and green eyes, as well as the pale skin Charlie remembers. In actuality, upon meeting Lilith, she has brown skin, long black hair, and brown eyes.

Lilith has no strong powers in Hell. The reason for this is that she is just as much a prisoner in Hell as everybody else. She stays in a section of Hell where many of the oldest sinners stay, often talking with the Pharaoh from the Book of Exodus (he refuses to give his identity during life, just going by Pharaoh, but there's multiple pharaohs mentioned so I'll specify him here), Judas, and Adam and Eve. She's not necessarily friends with Adam, but Eve is a good friend of Lilith, and Eve is never seen without Adam, so she gets stuck talking with Adam at times.

[mimisempai]

Equivalent Exchange

Summary

Crowley loves the human invention of the shower for the comfort it brings him, but what he loves even more is Aziraphale's hands in his hair as he dries it.

Notes

Another short and sweet fluffy thing

On Ao3

Rating G -  1100 words

Crowley grunted in satisfaction as he turned off the faucet. One of the things he found superior to everything else about humans was the shower. He didn't really need one, but the ability it had to relax him and make him feel good afterwards was incredible.

The demon got out of the shower, dried off, put on a pair of pajamas, and after briefly drying his hair with a towel just enough to keep it from dripping, he grabbed the hairbrush and headed for the bedroom where he knew he'd find Aziraphale. He smiled when he saw the angel sitting against the headboard, obviously engrossed in a book.

However, despite his evident concentration, as soon as Crowley entered the room, Aziraphale closed his book and placed it on the nightstand. 

The angel watched him approach and smiled as the demon asked, pointing his chin at the book, "Have you finished it?" 

Aziraphale shook his head, "No, but it's not like I never read it."

With that, the angel spread his legs and tapped the space in front of him, motioning for the demon to sit down.

Crowley approached, handed him the hairbrush, and planted a light kiss on the angel's lips before climbing onto the bed.

Then he moved into the space created by the angel's open legs, crossed his legs beneath him, and leaned his back against the angel's chest. 

He curled his right hand around Aziraphale's leg and gently stroked it up to his knee, marveling at how familiar this kind of gesture had become. 

As much as he loved to pamper the angel, he also appreciated it when Aziraphale did it for him, and this little ritual had been going on for some time. After denying themselves for so long, both the angel and the demon enjoyed being touched as much as they enjoyed touching, so this special moment satisfied both of them perfectly.

Aziraphale leaned over and asked him gently, placing his hands on his shoulders, "Do you want me to finish drying your hair first?"

Crowley, who had not been drying his hair for that purpose, simply nodded. The angel, not fooled at all, laughed softly in response and pressed a light kiss to the damp hair before gently pushing the demon forward. 

He then grabbed the towel from Crowley's shoulder and laid it on the demon's head to gently dry the red hair, starting with the longest strands at the top of the head, then slowly working his way down to the nape of the neck where he gently rubbed the towel over the shortest strands.

Aziraphale broke the silence and said quietly, "You know, I'm proud of you."

Crowley, more than a little surprised at this sudden praise, asked him confusedly, "For what?"

"Today, I arrived a little early to wait for you at the exit of your planetarium session, and I got to see how well you managed to captivate your audience. There wasn't a single person who wasn't hanging on your every word. You're excellent at what you do, the way you share your knowledge, my dear."

Crowley turned his head toward Aziraphale with that expression the angel knew so well. The expression he wanted to erase. The one that was the same when the demon was told he was a kind person.

Crowley, visibly moved, said nothing, just kissed Aziraphale's hand that rested on his shoulder before turning his head forward again.

They remained in silence for a few seconds while Aziraphale gave Crowley time to collect himself and placed the towel beside him.

Then the angel ran his fingers through Crowley's hair, gently massaging the back of his head, and the demon leaned his head back, resting in Aziraphale's hands and humming with pleasure.

The angel then slowly combed Crowley's hair with just his fingers, gently untying the few knots in the longer hair. Then he grabbed the brush and began to slowly run it through the red hair, starting with the ends of the strands, then making wider but no less delicate strokes from the top of the head to the ends of the longer strands. 

There was a kind of precious bond between Crowley and Aziraphale in these simple touches. They didn't speak, the silence of those moments almost religious, like the echo of a sacred moment, bringing them into communion far more than words could have done.

When he was finished, Aziraphale set the brush down beside him.

Crowley slowly straightened up, turned and sat facing Aziraphale, his legs over the angel's, then wrapped his arms around his neck. He pressed his lips gently against Aziraphale's as the angel in turn wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, returning the kiss with the same softness.

The demon nibbled gently on the lower lip of Aziraphale, who responded by opening his mouth to invite him in. The kiss deepened as Crowley pressed the angel a little closer.

Aziraphale's arms held him tightly but gently, while his hands ran gently up his back under the demon's pajama top.

The kiss lingered until they both pulled away to catch their breath, neither releasing the embrace of their arms.

Aziraphale smiled, eyes misty and cheeks flushed from the kiss they'd just shared. Crowley couldn't resist and slid his hand from the angel's neck to his face, delicately tracing the outline with his fingertips before running his thumb across the swollen lips.

Then he murmured in a breathy voice, " Gorgeous."

Aziraphale replied with a soft chuckle, "Look who's talking.... "

But the demon didn't let the deflection pass, and looking straight into Aziraphale's eyes, he repeated, "Gorgeous, I'll keep telling you until you believe me, my angel."

He shook his head a little before continuing, "How can you see beauty in others and not in yourself? "

Aziraphale shrugged and replied in a slightly bitter tone, "Force of habit, I suppose..."

Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead and said with a mischievous smile, "Then it's a good thing you're paired with a demon who likes to shake things up. You're gorgeous, Angel."

"I love you." 

Aziraphale had just said that without transition, as if he couldn't help himself, as if the confession was pouring out of his mouth without him being able to hold it back.

Slightly surprised, as he was every time the angel said those words, the demon didn't wait more than a split second before he answered softly, "I love you too, Angel."

Then he pressed his lips to Aziraphale's in another agonizingly loving kiss.

Because it was them.

This constant equivalent exchange.

Giving and receiving.

Loving and being loved.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

What Is And What Should Never Be

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

Dean was driving down the road when his cell phone rings. "Yeah?" He said once he answers his phone. "There's a cop car outside." (Y/n) replied as her and Sam look out the window of the motel room to see a cop car outside.

"You think it's for us?" Dean asked her. "I don't know." She said, a bit nervous "I don't see how. I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards." Dean said just as the cop car drives away. "They're leaving. False alarm." (Y/n) said, relieved. "Well, see. Nothing to worry about." Dean said.

"Yeah, being fugitives? Frigging dance party." She said with sarcasm and he chuckles a bit as (y/n) and Sam stand in front of a table, covered in books about a specific demon called Djinn, and on top of them is John's journal, open on the same subject.

"So you got anything yet?" She asked Dean. "Are you kidding me? How could I? You and Sam got me sifting through like 50 square miles of real estate here." Dean said. "Well, that's where all the victims disappeared." She replied.

"Yeah well, I got diddly-squat. What about you guys?" Dean asked. "Just one thing. We're pretty sure of it now." (Y/n) said as she pulls one book closer. "We're hunting a Djinn." She said. "A freaking genie?" Dean asked, shocked. "Yeah." She said.

"What? You guys think these suckers can really grant wishes?" Dean asked. "I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Koran." she said. "My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn't she? Way hotter than that Bewitched chick." Dean said and (y/n) sighs, exasperated.

"Are you even listening to me?" She asked, annoyed, then he clears his throat. "Yeah. So uh, where do the Djinns lair up?" He asked. "Ruins usually. Uh. Bigger the better – more places to hide." She replied. "You know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out." Dean said. "Wait – no, no, no, no, no. Come pick us up first." (Y/n) said.

"Naw, I'm sure it's nothing. I just wanna take a look around." Dean said and he hangs up the phone. (Y/n) lowers her hand with the phone in it and sighs while Sam gives her a concerned look.

The Impala pulls up and almost comes to a stop in front of an old factory. Dean gets out then enters the factory, with a flashlight, swinging open a creaky door. He walks through what appears to be an abandoned office, with typewriter, file cabinets, etc. There's a dripping water sound, but otherwise it appears empty to him.

He looks back and forth in it a few times, and then starts walking back the same direction he came from but this time in the hall. On his right, among all the old things but what Dean doesn't know is that a figure, nearby, is watching him. He doesn't see it and walks on.

Suddenly, it attacks him, pinning him against the window wall. Dean drops the flashlight and the Djinn slams Dean's right hand up against a wall, forcing him to drop his knife.

The Djimm opens its left hand, which begins to glow blue, at the same time that the its eyes begin glowing. The Djimm puts its glowing hand on Dean's forehead and Dean's eyes roll up, and take on a faint blue hue.

Dean wakes up, bare-chested, and wearing a necklace that is not the amulet. He looks around to see a tv was on, playing some old movie. Then he looks to his left to see a nude woman lying next to him, but she had her back to him. He leans over to get a look at her, only to be shocked when he sees that the woman was (y/n).

He gets up, quickly, then looks around for a moment before he goes to get dressed and begin to walk around the apartment.

Sam, in another location, gets a phone call on his cell. He sees it's Dean and looks a little worried. "Dean?" Sam answered. "Sam?" Dean said, worried. "What's going on?" Sam asked. "I don't know. I don't know where I am." Dean said.

"What? What happened?" Sam asked, concerned. "Well, the uh, the Djinn. It attacked me." Dean replied. "The gin? You're...drinking gin?" Sam asked, confused. "No, asshat. The Djinn. The...scary creature. Remember? It put its hand on me and then I woke up...next to (y/n), who was with you..." Dean said and Sam furrows his brow in confusion.

"Why would (y/n) be with me?" Sam asked, confused. "Because you guys were doing research on the Djinn!" Dean exclaims and Sam laughs alittle. "Dean, you're drunk. You're drunk-dialing me." He said. "I am not drunk. Quit screwing around!" Dean growls at him.

"Look, it's late. All right, just get some sleep and, um, I'll...see you tomorrow. OK?" Sam said. "Wait, Sam! Sam!" Dean pleads but Sam hangs up, and flips his phone down, laughing a little. He sighs and slams shut a book he was reading.

Dean puts his phone back in his pocket, frustrated, and looks around. He sees an envelope, and picking it up, sees that it is addressed to:

(Y/n) (l/n)

53 BARKER AVE

LAWRENCE, KS 66044

"Lawrence?" He said, confused, then he looks at two more envelopes, which were addressed to him with the same address as (y/n)'s. "What the hell?" He mutters, confused. 

"Dean?" A voice asked and Dean spins around to see (y/n) standing by the bedroom doorway, wearing a bathrobe. "What are you doing?" She asked as she starts to walk over to him. "Hey, (y/n), uh, I just uh..." he stammers and she smirks a bit at this.

"Does this mean I win?" She asked, smiling, and Dean looks at her confused. "Oh, now don't pull that crap on me, Winchester. We had a bet, remember? You made me watch that horror movie and said if one of us wakes up in the middle of the night first, the other gets to pick date night." She said and Dean gives a slight shake of his head.

"Yeah, yeah....sorry, it's just the dream I had was...pretty bad...couldn't go back to sleep." he said as he laughs, nervously. "Aww, my poor big, strong man." She said in a teasing tone as she walks up to him and places her hand on his chest. "Well, why don't you come back to bed and let's see if I can do anything to help." She said, in a seductive tone, which really made Dean go weak at the knees a bit. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say something like that. He thought.

"Sure. Yeah. In a minute. You - you, you go ahead." He said and she smiles. "OK. Don't stay up too long." She said to him. "No." Dean said and (y/n) leans up and kisses him, warmly. As Dean kisses her back, he felt his heart leaping in his chest as this was something he had been waiting for for a long time. But something in the back of his mind was telling him that this isn't right.

They break the kiss and she walks back to the bedroom. Dean, meanwhile, goes to a bookshelf and sees a photo of (y/n), and another of him and (y/n) embracing. Then a picture, which made Dean's eyes widen, of the couple with (y/n)'s parents. He turns and sees something else shocking, he picks up another photo, and drops it, the glass shattering as it breaks. Dean turns on his heel and leaves the room.

He drives up in the Impala across the street. He shuts off the engine and goes over to his old house from his childhood. Dean begins banging on the door then rings the bell two times as well. The porch light turns on and the door opens. "Dean." Mary said, concerned. Dean just stares at her a few seconds, not believing his eyes. "Mom?" He said, his voice breaks almost like he's on the verge of crying.

"What are you doing here? Are you all right?" Mary asked, concerned. "I don't know." Dean said. "Well...come inside." She said and she steps aside and let's him in. "(Y/n) just called and said you just...took off all of a sudden." Mary said as she closes the door but Dean can't take his eyes off of her.

"(Y/n)? Right....Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed?" He asked her. "Dean, I don't understand -" Mary said, confused. "Just answer the question." Dean said, with a hard tone. "I told you angels were watching over you." She replie and Dsan stares at her. "I don't believe it." He said and he walks over and hugs her tightly.

"Honey, you're scaring me." Mary said and Dean backs off. "Now just tell me what's going on." She said, worried. "You don't think that wishes can, can really..." Dean mutters. "What?" Mary asked. "Forget it." Dean said and he hugs her again. "Forget it. I'm just uh...I'm happy to see you, that's all." He said as he almost starts crying but pulls it together and releases the hug, looking down on Mary.

"You're beautiful." He said and he laughs a little. "What?" She asked, laughing. "Hey, when I was uh...When I was young was there ever a fire here?" He asked as he walks��towards the wall, looking at the books and pictures. "No. Never." She replied.

"I thought there was." Dean said, slightly confused, then he sees a picture of John and Mary smiling with Dean and Sam as little kids in front of them. "I guess I was wrong." He mutters as he sees a picture of him, as a kid, in a cap, looking cool into the camera. Another picture of Dean and his prom date, clearly taken at prom.

Another of Sam as a graduate then another of picture Dean, Sam and (y/n) as teenagers. Dean picks up another picture, which is a black and white photo of John, dressed in baseball clothes with a cap and a baseball bat in his hand, ready to swing, smiling at the camera.

"Dad's on a softball team." Dean mutters to himself then he turns around, to see Mary looking at him, seriously. "Dad's...Dad's softball team. It's...That's funny to me." Dean said and Mary smiles, fondly. "He loved that stupid team." She said and Dean took notice of that. "Dad's dead? And the thing that killed him was a..." Dean said.

"A stroke. He died in his sleep. You know that." Mary finished for him. "That's great." Dean said. "Excuse me?" Mary asked, confused. "That - that's great. That he went peacefully, I mean. It sure beats the alternative." Dean said as he sets the photo back.

"You've been drinking." Mary said and Dean shakes his head. "No, I haven't. Mom." He said and she shakes her head. "I'm just gonna call (y/n) and have her come pick you up, OK?" She said as she goes to the phone.

"Wait. No, no!" Dean said as he puts his hand over Mary's, which is over the phone about to pick it up. "Don't - don't do that. Don't do that. I wanna stay here." He said. "Why?" Mary asked. "Because I-I miss the place. It's okay, you - you go to bed. Okay?" He said and he goes over to the couch, sits down, and looks around a bit.

Mary walks up to him, and strokes his face tenderly. "Are you sure you're all right?" She asked him. "I think so." Dean said, nodding. "Okay." She said and she bends down and kisses his forehead, like all mothers do. She starts out the room then stops by the door. "Get some rest. I love you." She said to him. "Me too." He said. She smiles and then goes to bed. Dean stays on the couch, looking perplexed. 

The next morning, Dean wakes up on the couch to the sound of birds singing outside. When his eyes focus, he sees a picture of the whole family, including (y/n)'s family, the boys and (y/n) as kids and John is wearing a Santa hat, looking very happy. Dean opens his eyes completely, sitting up, confused. Then he dials his phone.

"Hey, it's me. I can't come to the pho-" Sam's voicemail said and Dean hangs up.

"Well I don't think I've seen you in my class before." The professor said as he stares at Dean. "You kiddin' me? I love your lectures. You...You make learning fun." Dean said and they laugh.

"So. What can I do for you?" The professor aske . "What can you tell me about Djinns?" Dean asked him.

Later, the two stand over a bunch of books, looking through  them. "Well, a lot of Muslims believed the Djinn are very real. And they're mentioned in the Koran—" the professor started to explain until Dean interrupts him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Get to the wish part." He said, quickly.

"What about it?" The professor asked him. CDo you think they could really do it?" Dean asked. "Um...Uh, no. No, I don't think they can really do it. You understand these are mythic creatures?" The professor said and Dean nods. "Yeah, I know. I-I-I know. I know. But uh...I mean in the stories. You know, say you had a wish, uh. But you never even said it out loud. Like that, uh...that a loved one never died. Or that, uh, something awful never happened." Dean said.

"Supposedly, yes. I mean they have godlike power. They can alter reality however they want. Past. Present. Future." The professor said. "Why would the Djinn do it? What, self-defense? Or maybe it's not really evil." Dean said, questioning.

"Son? You been drinking?" The professor asked and Dean chuckles a bit. "Everybody keeps asking me that. But uh...No." he said.

Later, Dean opens the trunk to the Impala and sees only old magazines and paper cups and a rag in there, no guns or other weapons. "Well, who'd'a thought, baby. We're civilians." Dean laughs as he closes the trunk, and looks over at the building. A girl is standing in a white shirt, skirt and shoes, staring at him. Dean's smile fades as he senses something. He looks at her for a little while and then starts to cross the street, walking towards her.

Suddenly a car screeches to a halt as it avoids running into Dean. The driver hits the horn and Dean holds out his hand as he looks at the car. When he turns back towards the girl, she's gone. He looks puzzled for a moment, then turns back to the Impala.

Back at the Winchester house, Dean takes a bite out of a big sandwich, grunting 'cause of the goodness. "Mmm. Mmm. Mmm! This is the best sandwich, ever!" Dean said, calling out to Mary. "Thank you." She said from another room

"I tried to get hold of Sam earlier. Where - where - where is he?" Dean asked her. "Oh, he'll be here soon." Mary said. "Good. Dying to see him." He said. "Sweetie, I–I...Don't get me wrong. I am thrilled you are...hanging out here...all of a sudden." She said as she quickly strokes Dean's chin. "But uh...shouldn't you be at work?" She asked.

"Work?" Dean said, confused. "At the garage?" She said. "Right. The garage. It's where I work, yeah. No, I-I–I've got the day off." Dean snickers. "Heh. Good thing." He said as he takes another bite, again with the grunting of goodness.

Then he looks to the window. "That lawn looks like it could use some mowing." He points out. "You want to mow the lawn?" Mary asked. "You kidding me? I'd love to mow the law." He said. "Knock yourself out. You'd think you'd never mowed a lawn in your life." Mary said. Dean shrugs, thinking that no, he never has mowed a lawn. He looks all kinds of happy about the prospect of doing so.

Dean starts the lawnmower then begins to mow the lawn, looking really happy, enjoying it. He's not very adept at it. He sees the neighbor across the street putting out the garbage. He waves to him like a regular guy does in this regular world. The neighbor waves back, telegraphing surprise with his wave, and then Dean continues the mowing.

After he finishes, Dean was sitting on the steps to the front porch, drinking a beer, feeling happy when a car drives up and parks at the curb. "I don't believe it." Dean mutters.

He gets up to go greet Sam and Jessica, who are getting out of the car. Dean attacks Jessica with a hug while Sam takes out the luggage from the trunk. "Jessica." Dean said, happily, as he hugs her, tightly. "Agh! You're, uh...Good to see you too Dean." She said as Dean laughs. "Can't breathe, okay." She tells him and he lets go.

"Sammy." Dean said to him.

"Hey." Sam greets as Dean smiles. "Look at you. You're with Jessica, it's - I don't believe it." He laughs. "Yeah." Sam said, uncertain. "Where'd you guys come from?" Dean asked him. "We just flew in from...Califor–"

"California! Stanford. Huh? Law school, I bet." Dean said, interrupting Sam. Sam chuckles, somewhat disapprovingly, then motions to the beer in Dean's hand. "I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual." He said and Dean stops and stares. "Wait. Mom's birthday, that's, that's today?" He asked. "Yeah. Yeah, Dean. That's today. That's why we're here. Don't tell me you forgot." Sam said and Dean looks a bit dumbfounded.

Suddenly, there was another car horn and they look over to see a new car pulling up. "Oh, looks like (father's name) and (mother's name) are here." Sam said and Dean stares as (y/n)'s parents get out of their car and Mary comes out of the house.

"(Mother's name)! (Father's name)!" Mary said, happily, and the two women go and hug each other then Mary hugs (father's name). "You made it!" Mary said to them. "Well, of course! You didn't think we would miss your birthday!" (Mother's name) said as they chuckle and Dean, Sam and Jessica walk up to them.

"Dean! What a surprise!" (Mother's name) said as she goes to hug him. "Hey, (mother's name)." Dean said, smiling, as he hugs her back. Then Dean looks over at (father's name), who was giving him a stern look. "Hey, (father's name)." Dean greets. "Dean." (Father's name) greets in a stern tone.

"Oh, (father's name), stop it." (Mother's name) said as he glances over at his wife for a moment then turns to face Sam. "Samuel! How are you?" He greets in a much friendlier tone than he did with Dean, which makes Dean look at this confused as Sam talks to (father's name).

That night at a restaurant, they're all sitting at a round table as Dean gets served a plate with asparagus spears bound into an upright sheaf. "Wow, that... looks awesome." Dean said as everyone chuckles. "All right. To Mom." Sam said as he raises a glass. "Happy birthday." He said as everyone raises their glass too.

"Happy birthday." Jessica, (father's name), (mother's name) and (y/n) said in unison. "Thank you." Mary said and they all clink their glasses in a cheer. "To mom." Dean said and he watches as Sam and Jessica kiss and smiles at them. (Y/n) then leans towards Dean, a look of worry on her face.

"I was really worried about you last night." She whispered to him. "Oh I'm...I'm good. I'm really good." He replied to her. "Okay. What do you say, later we get you a cheeseburger?" (Y/n) asked and Dean smiles. "Oh God, yes." He said and she smiles. "How did I end up with such a wonderful woman?" He asked her. "Years of wearing you down until you finally asked me out." She teased and Dean laughs then kisses her.

"All right. Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday." Sam said then he turns to Jess. "Ah...You wanna tell 'em?" He asked her. "They're your family." Jess said, smiling. "All right." Sam said and Mary looks between them, smiling in anticipation.

"What? Tell me what?" She asked. Sam holds up Jessica's left hand, showing of an engagement ring on her finger. Mary laughs happily and (y/n)'s parents applaud and smile. "Oh my God! That's so wonderful." Mary exclaims, happily, and she gets up and hugs Jessica, who's also gotten up. Sam, (y/n) and her parents get up as well, while Dean still sits.

"Congratulations." (Y/n) said as she hugs Jess. "Thank you." Jess said then (y/n) turns to Sam. "Congratulations, Sammy." She said. "Thank you." Sam said as Mary goes and hugs him then (father's name) shakes his hand and (mother's name) hugs him.

"I just wish your dad was here." Mary said to Sam. "Yeah. Me too." Sam said, sadly. "Jessica, let me see that ring." Mary said to Jess and the women all gather around Jess as Dean goes up to Sam. "Congratulations Sammy." He said. "Thanks." Sam said.

"I'm really glad you're happy." Dean said to and Sam looks a little puzzled at Dean's intensity. Dean looks over his shoulder and sees the same girl he saw on campus. She looks much filthier this time. Dean brushes past Sam and walks over. Sam turns around when Dean hits his shoulder while passing by.

Dean passes a lot of people and when he passes the last one, the girl is gone. He turns around and looks at his family, as they stand looking at him, wondering what's up.

"So, Dean, what was uh...what was all that back at the restaurant?" Sam asked Dean as they enter Mary's house. "Ah... I-I thought I saw someone. I'm sure it's nothing." Dean said. "Well, I had a lovely birthday. Thank you. Good night." Mary said. "Good night." Jess and (y/n) said. "Good night." Dean said. "Night, Mom." Sam said then he turns to the others. "Yeah, well I'm beat." He said then he turns to Jessica. 

"Ready to turn in?" He asked. "Sure." Jess said. "All right. Good night guys." Sam said. "Wait a second. Wait a second. Come on, it's not even nine o'clock yet. Let's uh...Let's go have a drink or something." Dean said and Sam gives him a weary look. "Yeah, maybe another time." Sam said.

"Come on, man. Look at us. Huh? We both have beautiful women on our arms. You're engaged. Let’s go celebrate." Dean said to him but there was an awkward silence after thar. Then Sam turns to the girls. "Guys, can you excuse us? I just want to talk to my brother for a sec." He said.

"Sure." Jess said while (y/n) gives a worried look to the boys. "Sam, please don't start." She said. "It'll be fine, (y/n)." Sam said and (y/n) sighs at this and she and Jess leave the room

"Come here." Sam said, onc she turns to Dean, as he walks to the other side of the living room. "What?" Dean asked as he follows. "Okay. What's gotten into you?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, confused. "I mean this whole warm, fuzzy ecstasy-trip thing." Sam said. "I'm just happy for you, Sammy." Dean replied. "Yeah, right. That's another thing. Since when do you call me Sammy?" Sam asked as Dean stares at him.

"Dean, come on. We don't talk outside of holidays. God, knows (y/n) has tried her hardest to get us to talk." Sam said. "We don't? Well, we should. I mean, you're my brother." Dean said and Sam scoffs. "You're my brother?" He said, repeating Dean's words. "Yeah." Dean said, laughing.

"You know, that's what you said when you snaked my ATM card, or when you bailed on my graduation, or when you hooked up with Rachel Nave." Sam said. "Who?" Dean asked. "Uh, my prom date. On prom night." Sam said. "Yeah, that does kinda sound like me." Dean mutters before he speaks up. "Well, hey man, I'm sorry about all that." He said and he walks towards Sam, who backs away.

"No that, look, that's all right man, I-I just...You know I'm not asking you to change. I-I just, uh, ...I don't know, I...guess we just don't really have anything in common. You know?" Sam said and Dean blinks before Sam starts to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Yes we do. Yes we do." Dean said before he laughs. "What?" Sam asked. "Hunting." Dean replies, like it was obvious. "Hunting? I've never been hunting in my life, Dean." Sam said to him. "Yeah, well, then we should go it sometime. I...I think you'd be great at it." Dean said and Sam starts to walk away again.

"Get some rest." Sam tells him and he walks away, leaving Dean in the living room.

Back at his home, Dean was sitting on the sofa, thinking, his brow furrowed when (y/n) offers him a beer. "My favorite. I guess you know me pretty well." He said and she laughs. "Perks of knowing you since I was about twelve years old."

Dean chuckles, softly, beforeshe looks down again and she frowns at this. "You all right?" She asked him. "Sammy and I...We don't get along." Dean mutters and (y/n) sighs at this. "Yeah, you two have had a rocky relationship." She remarked.

"Sam said that you've been trying to get us to talk." Dean said and she nods, slightly. "Well, yeah...you two are brothers and I hate to see you two this broken. But I think Sam's given up on trying to work it out as you have broken his trust one too many times." She said.

"And your dad doesn't seem to like me." Dean said and she waves a hand, vaguely, at this and said. "You know him, he's just being this overprotective dad. He's slowly getting over it, mainly is cause I think mom is wearing him down. She adores you." She said to him as he thinks for a moment.

"I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone." Dean said and (y/n) smiles. "Okay. What's gotten into you lately?" She asked as she raises an eyebrow at him. "This isn't gonna make a lick of sense to you. But I kind of feel like I've been given a second chance. And I don't wanna waste it." He said. "You're right, that doesn't make any sense—" (y/n) said, chuckling.

Dean then leans in and kisses her. "You know, I get it." He said. "Get what?" (Y/n) asked. "Why you're the one." He said and she smiles. "Well?" She said as he kisses her again. "Whatever's gotten into you...I like it." She said and they begin to kiss, passionately.

"Ohhh...come on! Don't do this to me now. I've gotta get ready for work." She groans and she gets off the couch, leaving Dean sitting with his hands as if she was still between them. "You got to work now?" He asked. "I told you. I've got the night shifts on Thursday." (Y/n) said to him and he starts to get up.

"You work nights at the, uh..." he said and he goes to their shared bedroom to see (y/n) standing by the closet, taking out scrubs. Dean stands in the doorway. "…hospital." He said. "I'm dating a nurse. That is so...respectable." he said and she smiles and giggles at his words. 

Later that evening, after (y/n) left, Dean was on the couch, putting his feet on the table, drinking beer and watching TV. He changed the channel to the stock market, cartoon, and then the news. He sees a land plane and hear a reporter. "And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424." The reporter said and this gets Dean's attention and he leans forward as he continues to watch.

"Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the hundred and eight people who lost their lives..." the reporter said and Dean shakes his head. "No, no. I stopped that crash." He mutters.

Then he goes to his laptop reading headlines that relate to cases he has solved.

Indianapolis Sun, December 5TH, 2005 - FLIGHT 424 CRASHES, 108 DEAD; Tragedy shocks the nation, as emergency crews continue to search rubble...

Nine Children Comatose; ... Mystery illness baffles doctors at Dane County Hospital

Parents mutilated in bed..; …Brutal double homicide in quiet residential area causes shock

GIRL DROWNS IN HOTEL POOL; Mother devastated after discovering daughter drowned

He catches a glimpse of a passing figure, a woman in white; maybe the same woman he has seen twice now. He gets up to see what it is. He opens his bedroom closet door and sees several female corpses, hanging. He hears a sound and turns around to see another woman, with a wound in her head, flickering in front of him.

He pants, shocked, and turns back around to the closet – to see nothing out of the ordinary.

Later, Dean was standing by John's grave, staring at it in sadness. "All of them. Everyone that you saved, everyone Sammy, (y/n) and I saved. They're all dead. And there's this woman, that's haunting me. I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is, not yet anyway. It's like my old life is, is coming after me or something. Like it like it doesn't want me to be happy." He said. "Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but...So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" He said then he becomes angry.

"But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?" He asked and he begins to cry while talking. "What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life, Sammy's not supposed to get married? (Y/n) and I can't have a normal life together? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? It's..." Dean said then his lips tremble. Then he hears the sky rumbling and tears begins to falls on his cheek.

"Yeah..." he mutters and he wipes the tears on his cheeks. Then he turns around and walks away.

Back at the Winchester house, Sam was fast asleep when, suddenly, he hears a noise downstairs and he wakes up. He comes down the stairs, quietly, with a bat in his hand then he stops in the doorway, leaning looking into the living room.

He sees the window open and under it, someone is in one of the cabinets. Sam goes in, swinging, but the person gets up and counterattacks, throwing him on the floor. "That was so easy, I'm embarrassed for you." A voice said and Sam looks to see that it was Dean.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked him as Dean gets up, letting Sam get up off the floor. "I was looking for a beer." Dean replied. "In the china cabinet?" Sam asked as he goes to turn on the light and sees the box with their parents' silverware on the floor, open.

"That's Mom's silver." Sam said as he looks at Dean, upset. "Sam." Dean mutters and Sam becomes angry. "What, you...you broke into the house...to steal Mom's silver?" He asked, angrily. "It's not what it looks like. OK, I didn't have a choice." Dean said to him. "Oh really? Why? What's so damn important you gotta steal from your own mother?" Sam asked.

"You want the truth?" Dean asked. "Yeah, yeah I do." Sam said and Dean shrugs. "I owe somebody money." He replied. "Who?" Sam asked. "A bookie. I lost big on a game, I gotta bring him the cash tonight." Dean said.

"I can't believe we're even related." Sam grumbles. "Sam, I'm sorry." Dean said. "Yeah." Sam mutters, quietly. "I'm sorry that we don't get along. And I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People’s lives depend on it." Dean said to him. He turns around and take a knife from the box.

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Sam asked him. "Nothing. Forget it. Just uh...hey, tell Mom I love her." Dean said. Sam frowns, seeing that something is up, as Dean goes for the door. "Dean." Sam said, worried, and Dean turns around. "I'll see you, Sammy." Dean said and he walks out the door, taking one last look at the house and Sam.

Sam stands in the living room where Dean left him, confused, then he hear the Impala's engine start.

Dean was sitting in the car, engine going, thinking, when, suddenly, the passenger door opens and Sam gets in the car. "Get out of the car." Dean tells him. "I'm going with you." Sam said. "You're just gonna slow me down." Dean tells him. "Tough." Sam said, firmly.

"This is dangerous and you could get hurt." Dean said to him. "Yeah, and so could you, Dean." Sam said.

"Sam—"

"Look, whatever stupid thing you're about to do, you're not doing it alone. And that's that." Sam said to Dean, firmly. "I don't understand. Why you doing this?" Dean asked him and Sam sighs. "Because you're still my brother." Sam said and Dean stares at him for a moment.

"Bitch." Dean mutters and Sam gives him a confused look. "W–hat are you calling me a bitch for?" He asked, offended. "You're supposed to say jerk." Dean said to him. "What?" Sam asked and Dean shakes his head. "Never mind." He mutters and he puts the Impala in gear and they drive off.

As they drive down the road, Sam looks down on a bag on the seat between them. "What's in the bag?" He asked, sighing. "Nothin'." Dean replied. "Nothin'?" Sam asked. "Yeah, nothin'." Dean said. "Fine." Sam said and he grabs the bag and begins to open it.

"You don't wanna do that." Dean said. "Oh really?" Sam asked. And he takes out what was in the bag. It's a container of blood. "What the hell is this?" Sam asked, staring at the container. "Blood." Dean replied, flatly. "Yeah, I can see that it's blood, Dean! What the hell is it doing in here?" Sam asked, upset. "You don't really wanna know." Dean said.

"No I-I do really wanna know. I really, really, do." Sam said. "Yeah, well you're gonna find out sooner or later. I needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood." Dean replied. "You needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood, why?" Sam asked. "Because there's this creature. A Djinn. And I have to hunt it." Dean said.

"Okay, um...stop the car." Sam said. "I know how it sounds." Dean said. "Great. Just...stop the car." Sam said, again. "It's the truth, Sam. All right, there are things out there in the dark. There – there – there are bad things. There are nightmare things. And people have to be saved and if we don't save them, then nobody will." Dean tells him.

"Look, I wanna help you, all right. I-I really, really do, but you're having some kind of psychotic breakdown, so, I...just –" Sam said. "I wish." Dean mutters and Sam picks up his phone and starts dialing a number. Dean rolls down his window, grabs Sam's phone, throws it out, and then rolls up the window again.

"What the hell was that, Dean? That was my phone!" Sam yells. "I'm not going to a rubber room, Sammy. And we got work to do." Dean said to him. "What? I was just trying to help you out, Dean. I don't, I don't want you to get yourself hurt." Sam said.

"What? You protect me?" Dean asked him. "Yeah!" Sam exclaims and Dean laughs. "Oh, that's hilarious. Why don't you just sit tight and try not to get us both killed." Dean tells him and be starts the radio and the music blares out.

The Impala drives up between the factory and stops in between two buildings. Dean looks over at Sam, who is asleep. DeN picks up his flashlight and shines it on his face. Sam wakes with a start. "Where are we?" Sam asked. "Well, we're not in Kansas anymore." Dean said as he chuckles at Sam. When there's no reaction, the smile dies. 

"Illinois." Dean said. "And you think something's in there?" Sam asked. "I know it is." Dean said and they get out if the car and head towards the building.

"See? There's nothing here, Dean." Sam said as the boys walk along the the building, Dean holding his flashlight. "Look, (y/n)'s gotta be worried sick about you, Dean. Come on, let- let's just go." Sam said after walking for a few minutes until they hear a sound. "Shh!" Dean said to him

"What the hell is that?" Sam asked him. "Stay behind me and keep your mouth shut." Dean said and they head into a large room. There they see bodies hanging from the ceiling appearing before them. It's the same bodies Dean saw in his closet earlier. There was a drained blood bag hanging next to one of the bodies.

"What the hell?" Sam asked as Dean looks further to the right, and the woman Dean has been seeing was hanging like the bodies. They approach her and see another blood bag next to her, filled with blood. Her eyes are open, but she looks close to dead. 

"It's her." Dean mutters and Sam looks at the bag and at her wrists that are tied, just like the others. She begins to moan and whimper. "Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked then Dean grabs him. "Shh!" He said as he sees the Djinn is coming out.

When it comes out from behind a wall and walks up behind the woman, the guys are gone. "Where's my dad?" The woman crys. "I won't tell..." she sobs as she looks at the Djinn. "Don't." She moves her feet away from the Djinn. "Where's my dad." She cries as Sam and Dean, who were behind a shelf, watches.

The Djinn touches her face. "Sleep." He whispers as some blue flares go over her cheek while he strokes her. The Djinn's eyes glow bright blue. "Sleep...Sleep." he continues and her head falls forward, eyes still open and her feet relaxes, falling forward again.

The Djinn rests his face against her arms, touching her right arm and breathing heavily, eyes closed. He then goes for the blood bag, pulls out one straw and puts it to his mouth, drinking her blood. Sam sees this and gags in disgust.

The Djinn hears this, and turns around right away; its eyes flash blue and he begins to move towards their hiding place. When he gets there, the guys are gone. The Djinn walks up some creaky steps while the boys were standing below them, looking up, following his steps.

When a door closes, Sam begins to breathe loudly. "This is real? You're not crazy?" Sam asked while Dean stares at the woman. "She didn't know where she was. She thought she was with her father." Dean said, thinking aloud.

Then the boys walk up to the woman again. "What if that's what the Djinn does? It doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has." He mutters. "Look man. That thing could come back, all right?" Sam said, worried, but Dean walks past Sam in the opposite direction of the woman.

He looks up at a light bulb and it starts to flicker in brighter light. "Dean, please." Sam pleads and Dean starts to breath, heavily. "What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?" Dean asked then he walks up to the woman. "I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow." Dean said.

"No. Dean, that doesn't make sense. OK?" Sam said. "What if that's why she keeps appearing to me? She's not a spirit. It's - it's like more and more like I'm catching flashes of reality. You know, like I'm in here somewhere, and I'm - I'm catatonic, and I'm taking all this stuff in but I, but I can't snap out of it." Dean said.

"Yeah, OK, look. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're right. I was wrong. You're not crazy but we – we – we need to get out of here. Fast." Sam said and hs starts to pull Dean with him. Dean pulls his arm loose from Sam, who looks at him and throws his arms out like what?

"I don't think you're real." Dean said. Sam, agitated, sucks in a breath. "Dude, you feel that?" H asked as he grabs Dean by the arms. "You feel this? I'm real. This is not an acid trip. I'm real, and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Now, please—" Sam said.

"There's one way to be sure." Dean said and he pulls out the silver knife. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?" Sam asked, backing away. "It's an old wives' tale. If you're about to die in a dream, you wake up." Dean said and Sam shakes his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That's crazy. All right?" Sam said.

"Maybe." Dean said with a determined look. "You're gonna kill yourself—" Sam said as he walks up to Dean but Dean holds out the knife and his other hand to stop him. "OK." Sam said.

"Or I'm gonna wake up. One or the other." Dean said. "OK. This isn't a dream, all right. I'm here, with you, now. And you're about to kill yourself, Dean." Sam said. "No, I'm pretty sure. Like, 90% sure. But I'm sure enough." Sam said and he turns the knife on himself, takes both his hands to the handle, ready to thrust it into himself.

"WAIT!" Sam shouts and Dean stops. Suddenly, Mary walks up next to Dean, in the same nightgown that she died in. Behind Sam, (y/n) appears. "Why'd you have to keep digging?" Sam asked him as Dean looks back at Mary as Jess appears on his right side.

"Why couldn't you have left well enough alone?" Sam asked as Dean looks around. "You were happy." said Sam and Mary comes up in front of Dean. "Put the knife down, honey." Mary said and tears form into Dean's eyes.

"You're not real. None of it is." He said. "It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had." Mary said. "What?" Dean asked. "It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let’s go home." She said and Dean shakes his head. "I'll die. The Djinn'll...drain the life out of me in a couple of days." Dean said, his voice breaking.

"But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime." Mary said and Dean looks over at Sam, who half-smiles and nods to him. "I promise." Mary said as she takes his chin in her hand, and he looks down on her. "No more pain." She said as she strokes his cheek. "Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. Dean, stay with us." Shd said and she strokes his other cheek and he leans into her hand, closing his eyes "Get some rest." She said.

"You don't have to worry about Sam anymore." Jess said and Dean looks over at her. "You get to watch him live a full life." She said and Mary steps away, and (y/n) walks up to him, taking his face in her hands then kissed him. "We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please." She pleads, softly, and Sam walks up to him.

"Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?" Sam asked, echoing what Dean said earlier. "I'm begging you. Give me the knife." Sam said and Dean looks at (y/n), Sam and Mary with tears in his eyes. Then he backs away looking at the floor. He raises his head, looking at Sam and (y/n).

"I'm sorry." He whispers and he thrusts the knife into himself, and blood immediately comes out of his mouth.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"DEAN! DEAN! Dean." Sam and I shouted as we walk up to Dean, who was hanging from the ceiling, a blood bag hangs next to him. "Oh God. Come on." Sam whispered as we shake him. "Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!" I said, panicked, and Dean grunts a little. His eyes begin to focus on us.

"Hey. Hey." Sam said as we shake him awake. "Ahh...Auntie Em. There's no place like home." Dean mutters and I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I thought I lost you for a second." I whispered as Sam pulls out the tube in Dean's throat. "You almost did." Dean whispers and I smiled at him.

"Oh God." Sam said as he breathes, heavily. "Let's get you down." He said and Sam reaches up and starts to cut through the rope as Dean winces over the pain and grunts a little. "(Y/n)! SAM!" Dean yells and I turn around, see the Djinn then I go to the Djinn with the knife.

The Djinn knocks me down then goes after Sam for a moment, gets him to drop the knife. I shake my head and see that the Djinn had got the upper hand on Sam, and is holding him by the throat. The Djinn's hand was glowing blue, and he is moving it toward Sam's forehead, but Sam was struggling, pushing against his wrist and trying to stop him. 

I grabbed my knife and thrust the knife into the back of the Djinn. Then I pull the knife out and it falls to the ground dead. Sam breathes heavily from being strangled and I help him up and go over to help Dean down, who doesn't look too good as he was pale and with red-rimmed eyes.

Once we get him down, we walk up to the girl. He puts his hand to her neck, feeling for a pulse. A tear rolls down one of her cheeks. "She's still alive!" Dean said and he pulls out the tube in her neck as I cut her rope. Dean and Sam catch her as she goes down.

"We gotcha. We gotcha. We're gonna get you out of here, OK? We gotcha." Dean said as the girl makes small wheezing sounds while I watch Dean and Sam help her down. "We got you." He said.

"OK, uh, thank you so much for the update. OK, bye." Sam said into his phone as Dean and I were sitting on the edge of a hotel bed. Dean was looking down and I placed a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me and I give a reassuring smile then he smirks back and takes my hand in his.

"That was the hospital. Girl's been stabilized. Good chance she's gonna pull through." Sam said once he hangs up his phone and comes up to us. "That's good." Dean said and Sam nods.

"How 'bout you? You all right?" I asked Dean and he clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm all right. You should have seen it, guys. Our lives. You were such a wussy, Sam." Dean said, chuckling.

"So we didn't get along then, huh?" Sam asked. "Nah." Dean said. "I thought it was supposed to, to be this perfect fantasy." I said, questioning. "It wasn't. It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. That Mom never died, we never went hunting and all of us just never uh...you know." Dean said.

"Yeah. Well, I'm glad we do. And I'm glad you dug yourself out, Dean." Sam said and I nodded. "Yeah, me too. Most people wouldn't've had the strength, would have just stayed." I said. "Yeah...Lucky me. I gotta tell you though, guys. You know, you had Jess, Sam. Mom was gonna have grandkids...(y/n), your parents were alive." He said.

"Yeah, but...Dean...it wasn't real." Sam said. "I know. But I wanted to stay." Dean said as he looks sad and lost. "I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad...all I c– all I can think about is how much this job's cost us. We've lost so much. We've...sacrificed so much." Dean said and I go and remove my hand out of his and wrap it around his shoulder.

"But people are alive because of you." I said and Dean scoffs. "She's right. It's worth it, Dean. It is. It's not fair, and...you know, it hurts like hell, but...it's worth it." Sam said and Dean looks at us then down again, sadly and pensively.

[hyperpotamianarch]

I guess I'm writing erraticly lately anyway, and no one on tumblr ever really tried anything else (do tell if you know a Tumlr user who blogs in an organised manner), so it's about time I talked about Piyutim.

Of everyone around, I'm... not really the most qualified person to talk about it deeply. I am keenly aware that my interest in Piyutim never got all that deep. However, compared to the average tumblr user I probably do know a little bit more, so here goes.

The definition of a piyut is very simple: a Jewish religious poem (it may well be that poem and Piyut come from the same original Greek word). Some of them are said during prayers, some sung around the Shabbat table, or during holidays.

I would start talking about the history of Piyutim, but as I mentioned - I'm not really qualified for it. If we were talking merely about the history of religious songs, I could start with the Song of the Sea, the Song of the Well, Deborah's Song and such things, ultimately arriving to Psalms and moving onwards. But those aren't Piyutim. Some are ancient epic songs, others are songs of prayer or praise, but... I don't know. Maybe they can't be considered Piyutim because the word didn't enter the Jewish lexicon yet. Or maybe we should actually call Tehilim the first book of Piyutim, IDK.

The oldest Piyutim we still have today can maybe possibly date back to the Mishnaic period, a little less than 2000 years ago - between the destruction of the Temple around 68 CE and the codifying of the Mishnah around 220 CE. There's an old Midrash saying about Rabbi El'azar B'Rabbi Shimon that he was a Paytan (read pie-tan, more or less), a writer of Piyutim. We don't really know much about that, however. The earliest Paytan we know the name of and still have Piyutim of, however, if Yose Ben Yose. It was believed by some that he was a Cohen Gadol, Great Priest, during the time of the 2nd Temple, as he wrote a Piyut about the order of work in Yom Kippur and this idea had added to it. However, modern researchers place him far later, around the 5th or 6th century CE. He lived in the Land of Israel, where the tradition of Piyutim started.

The most famous of the Paytanim, though, came a little later: Rabbi El'azar Birabbi Qallir.

All right, so, I'm making here a huge claim and many of the more Mizrahi-leaning Piyut enthusiasts are very likely to be baffled and annoyed by that claim. Mostly because it's very likely they didn't see many Piyutim by the Qallir. At least, so I assume. It would take long to explain that point, but basically: there is scarce Ashkenazi Makhzor which doesn't have at least one Piyut by the Qallir. Ibn Ezra, when criticizing early Paytanim in his exogesis on Kohelet (ecclesiastes), focuses on the flaws of the Qallir. The Tosafot said, at some point, that the Qallir sets precedent to adding Piyutim in the middle of prayers because they believe he was a Tana, from the period the Mishnah was written, and thus could disagree with things written there. Long story. Modern Hebrew scholars sometimes laughed at his weird Hebrew - but the point here is, he was their prime example.

And with all that, many modern Jews don't actually know many of his Piyutim, including Ashkenazi ones. Because his Piyutim were written to say in the middle of the prayer, and this type of Piyutim was cut out of most prayers lately. So outside of a few samples from the High Holy Days, many people are less familiar with his work.

He still set some standards for future Piyutim, though, along with his fellow Paytan of the same period, Yanai: they were likely the first to sign their Piyutim via the acrostics. Also, they possibly were the first to make them rhyme - so if you like to write non-rhyming poetry, do remember it can still be considered a Piyut same as old school Piyutim. On a side note, if you've heard the Piyutim VaYehi Bachatzi HaLaylah or Ve'Amartem Zevach Pesach on the Seder night - both of those were written by Yannai. The acrostic is only the Hebrew alphabet and not his name, but it's still known to be his.

From then on, many Piyutim were written: by Ashkenazi Jews, Sepharadi Jews, Italki Jews, Mizrahi Jews, Yemenite Jews... basically everywhere Jews went. I mean, the Ethiopeans were cut off from the rest of Judaism for the most part, so their religious songs traditions are likely vastly different than the others, but they probably can be cosidered Piyutim as well. Among the most well know Paytanim are Kalonymus, Moshe ben Kalonymus, Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi, Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra, Rabbi Moshe Ibn Ezra (I think they're unrelated? But am not completely sure), Dunash Ben Labrat (who's older than most of the ones in this paragraph, sorry for putting him this late) and Rabbi Shelomo Ibn Gabirol. Most of whom are Sephardi, with Kalonymus and Moshe Ben Kalonymus (related, though I think not father and son) being Italkim who moved to Ashkenaz.

At this point, I might want to make an important distinction within Piyutim: they include, as I mentioned, both liturgical poems - said during prayers - and songs sung during feasts. The latter sort gets a lot of attention in general, and many people only mean those when talking about Piyutim. Things are still more complex than those divisions: there are many subtypes to liturgical Piyutim, depending on where they are to be said. Some of which have sneaked into the ones said in feasts. Two examples I always keep in mind are Agadelchah and Libby U'Vesari. Both of those were written by Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra, as their acrostic points. Both were written as preparatory poems to other prayers - as seen by their very last words being the first word of well known Jewish prayers: Agadelchah ends with "Ve'Yitgadal B'Goy Kadosh Ve'Eliyon, VeYitkadash Shemei Rabah B'Alma", which is more or less the beginning of the Kaddish, while Libby U'Vesari ends with "...Et Ki Eftaḥ Pi B'Nishmat Kol Chai". The last three words being the beginning of the prayer... Nishmat Kol Chai. It's a bit on the nose, really.

My point is, there is a division, but it's not very clearly cut. And if I wanted to make a sweeping statement, like say "Mizrahi Jews still write Piyutim today but are focused on ones for feasts"... I would be wrong. In some ways there is something to it: due to a certain Halachic development, Sepharadi and Mizrahi Jews no longer say Piyutim in the middle of their prayers. However, they have many Piyutim said as prayers unto themselves, plus the Bakashot singing exists, and... Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that much of the Ashkenazi Piyut tradition was more prayer-focused. Due to that, many Ashkenazi Piyutim weren't set to music and thus are less remembered. For example, many early Ashkenazi rabbis wrote Piyutim. If you really look it up, you can find Piyutim by Rashi, Rabbenu Tam and other Tosafot writers. There are Piyutim by Rabbenu Gershom still said in prayer to this day. But if, say, I were to talk to a fellow Jew who happens to be Mizrahi about Piyutim, he could easily deny the existence of Ashkenazi Piyutim. Especially if I, for example, admit that Moshe Ben Kalonymus was Italki and not technically Ashkenazi. Just an example, it's not like such a thing totally happened about a year ago to me.

On that cheery note, I might add that in modern day Ashkenazim really do scarcely write Piyutim. I do personally know a group that still do, specifically liturgical Piyutim, but it's rare. And after that wall of text, I can also feel safe to say a thing or two about the war.

Whoever you might be who made it this far: congradulations. No, I didn't write this wall of text to dissuade people, I really am interested in Piyutim to that level. I even wrote a couple at the beginning of this accursed war. They're... fine, I think, not exceptional.

But here's the thing: not long after I labored to write them, Yagel Harush came along with his lament on Be'eri. And, well, I should never have considered this a competition, because this guy is a proffesional singer and songwriter. He also put his Piyut to music which I did not. Basically, there is no equivalent to be made.

I'm still sad that my Piyut didn't get very far, but I'm happy to see how wide a distribution the Be'eri Lament got. It is an ancient tradition that existed among Ashkenazi Jews as well to write a lament over a Pogrom, so that we'll never forget it. The Piyutim I know by Rahsi and Rabbenu Tam are both of this sort - about the Crusades and the Blood Libel in Blois, respectively.

Thank you for reading, and have a good day!

[imkylotrash]

I used to get lost in your eyes

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader (first person).

My hands are shaking. Any minute now, he'll come walking through that door and I'll have to break both of our hearts. Any minute now, I will have my last moment with him, and my bones are threatening to break under the weight of that knowledge. Keys rattle on the other side of the door, and I take a deep breath to stabilize my thundering heart. It does not do the trick.

"Hey, how was..." His voice trails off when he sees my packed bags by the door. There's no reason to try and hide the tears making their way down my cheeks. He'll know soon enough what will happen tonight.

"We need to talk." The four worst words in a relationship. My voice remains steady despite the cold making a home in my veins.

"What's going on?" He still has one foot out in the hallway as if not fully entering the room will change the outcome of tonight. It won't.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep waiting for you to let me in, because I don't think you'll ever be ready. And I definitely can't continue to be shut out when you're struggling. It hurts too much." I feel my bottom lip quiver as I try to reel back some of the feelings threatening to rip their way out of my heart. For so long, I've managed to keep them contained, but I can't do it anymore. I am tired.

"Please, don't. You know I've been working on this. You know I'm trying to-to-I don't want to lose you." Finally, he enters the room to walk over to me and get on his knees in front of me. For once, I can read him as an open book. The fear of losing me, the broken heart already demanding to be felt even though I'm still here. I see it all, but it's too late.

"I can't keep clawing at your walls, darling. My nails haven't even managed to make a single scratch." Nothing on this earth could prepare me for the feeling in my chest as I watch all hope evaporate from his face. I have to consciously remind myself why this is necessary. How many evenings I've sat waiting for him to come home, to tell me what troubles him. How many times I've gone to bed alone because he'd rather stay in his study and ignore the world. Once, I was naive enough to think that I might one day become his world. That he'd trust me enough to let me see the sides of him that were less than perfect. I did not harbor such sentiments now.

"There must be something I can do," he argues but I've made my decision. It will do none of us any good to dwell on what might have been.

"I'll stay with Lily and James for a few days until I find somewhere to go." It's selfish to bring his best friend into this, but I have nowhere to go and Lily is my best friend. It's only natural to seek her comfort right now. I tell myself it's only for a few days. And it's not as if James won't be able to come over and see Remus. I'd never get in the way of that.

"Please stay." With unsteady legs, I stand up and step to the side to pass Remus still on his knees.

"Please," he whispers so quietly, I almost miss it. If there is something smaller than a quark, I believe that would be equivalent to the size of the broken pieces of my heart lying shattered on the floor. He grips my wrist to keep me from taking another step, but I cannot stay. I cannot destroy myself to make him whole.

"Let go of me, Remus." It comes out as a plea rather than an order, but I cannot bring myself to cause him any more pain than necessary. Fire spreads where his skin touches mine and I curse how weak my body becomes by his touch.

"Don't make me do it myself. Please just let me go." I don't want to have to pry his hand off of me. I can't have that be my last memory with him. After a full minute, he finally lets go of my wrist.

"You are worthy of love, my darling. I'm just not the right person to give it to you." I lean down to press a kiss to his forehead as a final goodbye. The sight of his tear-streaked face will haunt me from this day forward, but I still walk out the door. And he doesn't stop me this time.

[the-kipsabian]

He doesn't really need a tag partner (I'm sure there are people he trusts enough to team with) but if Chuck is out forever can we have Kip step in and be a person for OC to lean on? I mean we could get him on TV possibly weekly (win win in my book) plus maybe we can get OC corrupted and boom it helps push the storyline with Trent? IF Chuck is able to come back, maybe he uncorrupts him? Thoughts?

SO. im sorry ahead of time that this will get longwinded and probably not gonna make a lot of sense but i have A LOT of thoughts regarding this whole situation

so this has been a very common thing to discuss in my dms ever since the shades of the best friends betrayal started when trent and oc entered into the tag team tournament (also shoutout to bugs for dealing with my shit constantly cause i know i can be unhinged ough), and what we dubbed as savior!kip has become a very intense hope in this storyline so... yeah ive been thinking about this possibility a lot ngl

im gonna put the rest of this under the cut cause lmao yeah. im gonna go off the rails

i wanna start this by saying that while i do want chuck to come back, im specifically hoping that he'll come back to team with trent again and to torment oc, that all of this has been one big ruse to see if oc really is their best friend or not (spoilers: hes not. trent is right about everything he said dont @ me). and oc is slowly starting to lack friends; seeing how things are going, things with kris arent that great. shibata and hook have their hands full with so many other things. rocky is obviously siding with trent, even if he doesnt say it directly out loud but roppongi vice forever basically, and the rest of chaos is mostly in japan (and okada is evil now so...). danhausen basically doesnt exist anymore. everyone oc has had around him has slowly disappeared, for one reason or another

so where does that leave us, exactly? you turn to the other side (or more in this case, the other side turns towards you to help out)

kip has been critical on twitter about the don callis family, and basically saying he would never join them due to disrespect from don. and we all know how much kip loves and cares about oc (i dont have to proof this to you you have seen all the sweet tweets and other stuff. this man used to use the kissy face emoji frequently while tweeting at or about oc come on now), so seeing these two words colliding would probably not sit very well with him, i'd imagine. while someone could argue that kip has lost interest in oc since he has dropped the title and thats all that was ever about...

first of all, the "sweet little clementine" nickname has been used multiple times throughout the timeline. this wasnt just a mind game trick to get into ocs head during the title feud, it was in there way way before that ever happened (i believe we are talking about full gear 2020 if i recall my timelines right [its around 3 hours and 9 minutes]); he has always been affectionate about oc in a really weird way (hes british tho so thats probably why). second, how many times has kip been after anyone else between ocs title reigns and after? exactly zero. when mox and fenix were champs, he didnt say a peep (he did, whoever, put out my favorite tweet of all time when oc lost the title to mox). after oc gained the title, he started tweeting again about it. and again when oc lost it, not a word. kip hasnt said anything about the international title or rodney since then; the only time he did post, he told rodney to fuck off cause clementine was his. and since then? kip has been keeping an eye on the best friends feud so... do whatever you wish with that information (1, 2, 3)

the point is, the obsession was NOT with the title; hes just always been affectionate about and towards oc, but in a really weird and obsessive, kind of a destructive way

why is this necessary to bring up? well...

do you really think he would stand idly to the side to watch oc align himself with someone like don callis when all his other friends have abandoned him, all these things considered?

do i need to remind you of something? cause i will remind you of my favorite post

throughout this entire time, kip never gave up (im aware this is technically non-canon as this is a quote from stream but. if you know their history over on twitch, it counts. the feud bled over there during its prime too). yes this technically had everything to do with him tearing ocs friends away from him when this was posted, but.. dont you think its fitting tho? considering the situation oc is in now? and while yes it might seem that kip is taking the side of trent in this whole thing, this was specifically before don callis inserted himself into the situation by whispering whatever the hell into ocs ear

and what better time and way for kip to insert himself back into ocs life as the one person he can still rely on than right here and right now, when oc is so desperate for a connection and friendship that he'll take don callis of all people?

if we want to dig more into my personal observations, kip has never felt as respected or perceived as he did/does when hes across the ring from oc. this feud was the highlight of his career since the comeback (and arguably, his [and miros] feud with the best friends ending with arcade anarchy was the other, so these two have always been connected more or less), its the one thing people keep talking about in reference to him apart from the box; how he should have been the one taking the title from him, how kip should have been elevated from that point forward too. how people talk about him almost only when he has faced oc in the ring afterwards (which has been at least three times if i recall right from the top of my head) or had a chance to challenge again for that title before oc lost it entirely

so what is the conclusion i wanna draw from this? kip keeps bringing him up. he keeps on leeching on him. he wants that attention off of oc, but also from oc. and what better way to do that than to now befriend him, show him support, be there for him when everyone else has abandoned him?

except its not entirely malicious. it might start as such, but its definitely mutually beneficial, more so than intended; sure maybe kip takes the chance to get to oc when hes down and vulnerable, but theres also that high chance that he'll see he can actually help. kip can help pull oc back up and help rebuild him. kip can be useful and important in this equation too, not just oc (which.. its gonna show kips true colors tbh. considering how kip treats oc as a whole, but he was taking trents side earlier about everything when best friends broke apart so...)

i think this is enough of me rambling, so im gonna get to the point of the ask lmao; but yeah, while i'd love for chuck to come back, i dont think he needs to be the one to uncorrupt oc from under kips spell. cause there wont be a spell to begin with. while yes it might start more or less as a corrupting relationship if they got to tag together with oc, i dont think ultimately it would be harmful to him. just like kip would be there to be supportive of oc, eventually he would return the favor by helping kip flourish, like he has done more indirectly in the past. they are mutually beneficial to one another, for better or worse maybe, but its not going to lead oc down a dark path in my opinion. if anything, oc is uncorruptable at this point (especially without the belt but i feel like that story has completely died by now with roddy holding the title so im not going to touch that rn), and him getting love and support from someone genuine, although surprising in this case, it would just make him more likely to return that favor than to turn against it. what i mean is, oc would be the one to uncorrupt kip, if anything

thank you for coming to my tedtalk and im soooooo sorry for all of this