#it came so naturally with zero hesitation

[leafsfromthevine]

it's kinda corny-

- it's not, it's sweet. i love you.

i love you.

*dramatic zukka hand on shoulder*

[wolvietxt]

𝓕OR THE 𝓕IRST 𝓣IME …

pairing : dean winchester x female!reader warnings : crying, friends to lovers, fluff, really light angst (squint and you’ll miss it), hunts, food mentions, reader has implied insomnia (self indulgent sorry) wc : 6.1k😈

the gravel crunched under the impala’s tires as dean pulled into the parking lot of yet another roadside diner. the neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting flickering hues of blue and pink over the impala’s sleek frame.  

“another diner?” you teased, sliding out of the passenger seat. your boots hit the ground with a soft thud. “you know, there are other food groups besides pie.”  

dean smirked, locking the car with a flick of his wrist. “and i’m sure you’ll tell me all about them, kid. but i don’t need food advice from someone who orders salad at a steakhouse.”  

“first of all, that was only one time,” you shot back, walking alongside him toward the door. “and second, that salad was really really good.”  

dean snorted, holding the door open for you. “whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin’.”  

the diner was exactly what you expected: vinyl booths, laminate tables, and the comforting hum of an old jukebox in the corner. dean led the way to a booth by the window, sliding in across from you.  

“so,” you started, picking up a menu. “are you gonna do that thing where you order half of what’s on the menu? or just pie and coffee?”  

“both,” dean said without hesitation, his eyes skimming the options. “you know me. go big or go home.”  

the waitress appeared moments later, all smiles and a notepad in hand. dean ordered two burgers and, of course, pie. you went with something lighter, which earned you a raised brow.  

“you sure that’s enough?” he asked once the waitress left. “you’re gonna get hungry and start eyeing my fries. i can feel it.”  

“i am perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thanks.”  

“we’ll see.”  

the food arrived faster than expected, and you fell into easy conversation, catching up on the day’s events. the current hunt had been straightforward so far - just a basic salt-and-burn. still, you weren’t exactly looking forward to it. you never where when it came to hunts, they were more dean’s speciality. the looming anxiety and sense of impending doom wasn’t ever remotely enjoyable for you.

“so, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked, grabbing a fry from your plate. “wrap this one up and hit the road?”  

“probably,” dean replied between bites. “unless we get more intel on that death omen case. sam thinks there’s a connection between the two.”  

“of course he does,” you said with a laugh. “guy can’t take a win without overthinking it.”  

“hey, that overthinking saves our asses sometimes,” dean pointed out, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.  

“true. but it also gets him hexed.” you grinned. “remember that time with the chickens?”  

dean barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “oh man, that was gold. i think we have a picture of him running from that rooster somewhere.”  

“we should frame it,” you said, smirking. “hang it in the bunker’s library for motivation.”  

“you’re evil, you know that?” he remarked, his smug grin widening further.

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, plucking the cherry off of his slice of pie and popping it into your mouth.

your conversations were effortless, the kind of back-and-forth that felt like second nature at this point. it wasn’t until dean reached over and grabbed one of your fries that you gave him a look.  

“you’ve got two whole plates,” you said, swatting his hand away.  

“what can i say?” he replied, popping the fry into his mouth with zero shame. “yours taste better.”  

before you could respond, the waitress returned to drop off the check. she hesitated for a second, then smiled warmly.  

“you two are such a cute couple,” she said, her voice casual but sincere.  

you froze, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  

“we are not a couple,” you blurted out, at the exact same time dean said, “yeah, never.”  

the waitress blinked, clearly taken aback by your synchronized response. “oh, uh, sorry! my mistake.”  

she hurried off, and you stared after her, still processing what just happened.  

“well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” dean muttered, reaching for his coffee.  

“why does this keep happening?” you asked, more to yourself than to him.  

“beats me,” dean said with a shrug, though you caught the flicker of something in his expression - amusement, maybe? “guess we just give off the vibe.”  

“the vibe?” you echoed.  

“you know.” he waved a hand between the two of you. “like… a vibe.”  

“that explains nothing.”  

“then i guess it can just be one of life’s great mysteries, sweetheart.”  

you tried to let it go, but the waitress’s comment lingered in the back of your mind. it wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you and dean were a couple, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. still, it felt… different this time.  

you glanced across the table at dean. he was back to his usual self, leaning against the booth with a lazy grin and a smart remark on the tip of his tongue.  

he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “what?”  

“nothing,” you said quickly, looking away. “just thinking.”  

“about what?”  

“the hunt,” you lied.  

he didn’t press, but you could feel his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the check.  

“you ready to hit the road?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.  

“yeah,” you said, grabbing your jacket. “let’s go.”  

the drive back to the motel was quiet, the hum of the impala’s engine filling the silence. dean had turned on the radio, and metallica’s prince charming filtered through the speakers. you leaned your head against the window, watching the dark countryside blur past.  

“why are you being so damn quiet?” dean said after a while. “i know i’m always complaining about it but it really doesn’t feel right when you’re not yapping my ear off.”

“‘m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. your mind was still replaying the waitress’s words and the way dean had brushed them off so easily.  

“well, get some rest,” he said, his voice softer now. “we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”  

“okay, dean.” you nodded, letting your eyes drift shut as baby rumbled on.  

the next morning, you were back on the road, this time heading toward a small, rundown cemetery. the salt-and-burn had gone smoothly, but the death omen case was proving to be trickier than expected.  

“so what are we looking for?” you asked as dean parked the car near the edge of the cemetery, trying to rub your eyes subtly so he wouldn’t notice your fatigue.

“old journal entries mentioned a spirit tied to a cursed locket,” he said, grabbing his duffel bag. “we find the locket, we find the spirit.”  

“sounds easy enough,” you said, though you both knew it rarely was.  

the two of you spent the next hour combing through the overgrown graves, your flashlights cutting through the dark.  

“anything?” dean called out from a few rows over.  

“not yet,” you replied, brushing aside some vines. “but this place gives me the creeps.”  

“aww, don’t tell me you’re scared, sweetheart,” dean teased, his grin audible even from a distance.  

“you wish,” you shot back, though you couldn’t deny the way your nerves prickled.  

as you moved to another section of the cemetery, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone - or something - was watching you.  

“dean,” you called out, your voice quieter now.  

“yeah? you okay, sweetheart?” his voice softer now, a hint of panic sneaking through. 

“i think we’ve got company.”  

he was at your side in an instant, his flashlight sweeping the area. “stay close,” he said, his tone serious now.  

you nodded, your heart pounding as the shadows seemed to close in around you. whatever was out there, you had a feeling this hunt was about to get a whole lot messier.  

the night was heavy with an unnatural stillness, the kind that made your skin crawl. somewhere deep in the shadows of the cemetery, you just knew something was watching you.  

you stayed close to dean as the two of you scanned the overgrown headstones, flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

“you hear that?” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.  

“hear what?” dean replied, his gaze darting around.  

then it came again - a low, guttural moan, echoing through the cemetery like a warning.  

“that,” you said, gripping the iron crowbar in your hand a little tighter.  

dean’s jaw tensed. “stay behind me,” he muttered, pulling out his gun.  

“you know i’m not great at staying behind,” you quipped, though your attempt at humor fell flat against the weight of the moment.  

“yeah, i noticed,” he said, flashing you a wry grin despite the tension. “but humor me, darlin’. just this once.”  

the two of you moved cautiously toward the source of the sound, your flashlights dancing over moss-covered graves and weathered stone angels. the air grew colder the closer you got, your breath puffing out in visible clouds.  

then you saw it - a faint, ghostly figure hovering near an old, crumbling mausoleum. its features were obscured, but its presence was anything but subtle.  

“that’s gotta be our spirit,” dean said, his voice low.  

“looks like it’s guarding something,” you observed, nodding toward the mausoleum door.  

“the locket,” dean guessed.  

“how do we get past that thing without getting our faces ripped off?”  

“i distract it, you grab the locket,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious plan in the world.  

“oh, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “because splitting up always works so well for us.” when you looked up at, him he finally noticed the twinge of fear in your tired gaze.

“trust me, sweetheart,” dean said, flashing you a soft smile he hoped appeared reassuring. “i’ve got this.”  

against your better judgment, you let dean take the lead. he stepped into the spirit’s line of sight, his gun raised.  

“hey, casper!” he called out. “over here!”  

the ghost turned toward him, its hollow eyes locking onto his figure. it let out an unearthly wail that sent chills down your spine, then began moving toward him with an unnatural speed.  

“anytime now!” dean shouted, firing a round of rock salt to slow it down.  

you darted toward the mausoleum, shoving the heavy door open with all your strength. inside, the air was damp and musty, the faint smell of decay clinging to the walls.  

your flashlight landed on an old wooden box sitting atop a stone altar. you didn’t have time to think - you grabbed the box and pried it open, revealing the cursed locket inside.  

“got it!” you called out, stuffing the locket into your pocket and running back toward dean.  

the ghost was still focused on him, though it was clearly losing its patience. dean fired another shot of rock salt, sending it reeling.  

“move it, kid!” he yelled, glancing back at you.  

“i’m coming!” you shouted, skidding to a halt beside him.  

together, you pulled out matches and a small jar of accelerant. you didn’t waste a second, dousing the locket and striking a match.  

the moment the flames touched the cursed object, the ghost let out a piercing scream, its form disintegrating into a shower of sparks before disappearing entirely.  

“well, that was fun,” dean said, lowering his gun.  

“yeah, a real blast,” you replied, still catching your breath.  

he turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you said, nodding. “thanks for the save.”  

“always,” he said with a small smile, clapping you on the shoulder. “come on, let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up.”  

the drive back to the motel was quieter than usual. the adrenaline from the hunt had worn off, leaving you both exhausted.  

“you’re really bad at staying behind,” dean said suddenly, breaking the silence.  

“and you’re really bad at not playing the hero,” you shot back.  

he glanced at you, his expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “you’re gonna get yourself killed one day, you know that?”  

“not if you’re around to save me,” you said lightly, though there was an edge of truth to your words.  

he didn’t reply, but the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened said enough.  

back at the motel, you both collapsed onto your respective beds, the exhaustion from the hunt settling into your bones. the cheap, scratchy sheets were far from comfortable, but you barely noticed, too tired to care.  

“you want first shower?” dean asked, already kicking off his boots and wincing at the creak of the bed frame beneath him.  

“you take it,” you mumbled, waving him off and stifling a yawn. “i’ll just... lie here for a sec.”  

he paused, giving you a look. “you good? you’ve been dragging all day.”  

“just tired,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “nothing a shower and some sleep won’t fix.”  

dean didn’t seem convinced. “you sure? you’ve been looking... kinda rough.” his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “when’s the last time you actually got a decent night’s sleep?”  

“i sleep,” you said, avoiding his gaze by focusing on the ceiling.  

“yeah, but do you sleep?” he pressed, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “like, real sleep. out cold. no tossing and turning. none of that zombie stuff.”  

“i’m fine, dean,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked any real bite.  

he lingered for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced but unsure what else to say. eventually, he grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom with a quiet, “if you say so.”  

the sound of the shower running filled the silence, but your mind was louder. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep - it was just that you couldn’t. not really. the hunts, the adrenaline, the nightmares - they all tangled together into a mess you couldn’t quite escape.  

you stared at the water-stained ceiling, your thoughts drifting back to the hunt and, inevitably, to dean. the way he’d thrown himself between you and that ghost without hesitation, his instincts sharper than anyone you’d ever met. it wasn’t just about the hunt; it was about him.  

you sighed, shaking your head at yourself. this wasn’t the time to overthink things.  

when dean emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing after him, his hair damp and sticking up at odd angles, you were still lying in the same spot.  

“your turn,” he said, tossing a towel onto your bed.  

you groaned, forcing yourself to sit up. “if i fall asleep in there, it’s your fault.”  

he smirked, stretching out on his bed and crossing his arms behind his head. “just don’t drown, sweetheart.”  

rolling your eyes, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, the hot water doing wonders for your sore muscles and the lingering chill from the hunt. by the time you came out, the room was dark, and dean was already passed out, one arm draped over his face.  

you stood there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest, his face relaxed in a way you rarely got to see.  

“goodnight, dean,” you murmured softly, pulling a blanket over yourself as you sank onto your bed.  

as you lay there, the quiet hum of the motel settling around you, you tried to let the exhaustion take over. but your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, your body still on edge despite how tired you were.  

at some point, dean shifted, his voice groggy but unmistakable. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you lied, turning onto your side to face the wall.  

“you sure?” his voice was softer now, thick with sleep.  

“get some rest, dean,” you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.  

“right back at you,” he muttered, the faintest hint of concern lingering in his tone before his breathing evened out again.  

you closed your eyes, willing yourself to follow his lead, even as your thoughts refused to let you.

a storm rolled in by the time you and dean reached the next job. thick, gray clouds churned overhead as rain hammered against the impala's windshield, the wipers working overtime. the cabin in question - a decrepit thing that looked more haunted than it probably was - loomed at the end of a dirt road.  

"of course it's in the middle of nowhere," you muttered, peering at it through the rain.  

"yeah, because monsters love suburban neighborhoods," dean said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he parked the car.  

you snorted, unbuckling your seatbelt. "remind me again why we couldn’t tackle this in daylight?"  

"because the kid who called us swears the thing only shows up at night," he replied, grabbing his shotgun and tossing you a flashlight. "come on, sweetheart. we’ve got work to do."  

the inside of the cabin was worse than the outside. peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, and an unsettling number of broken mirrors made up the interior.  

"i'm guessing the shattered mirrors aren't just bad decorating choices," you said, shining your flashlight across the room.  

"nope," dean said. "sounds like we're dealing with a vengeful spirit. probably tied to one of these." he gestured to the shards of glass littering the floor.  

"great," you muttered. "so, we find the mirror, salt it, and burn it. easy enough."  

"you say that now," dean said, smirking as he headed toward the stairs. "but nothing's ever that easy, is it?"  

you split up to cover more ground - though not without a bit of grumbling on your part. it was horrible hunting without dean, the anxiety looming over you multiplying by a thousand. the cabin had two floors, plus a creepy basement you were hoping to avoid.  

"why do i always get stuck with the creepy basements?" you whined after him as he ascended the stairs.  

"because you're the rookie," dean shot back, his grin audible even from a distance.  

"oh, real mature," you muttered, making your way toward the basement door, sucking in as many deep breaths as you could manage.

the basement was every bit as awful as you’d imagined. damp, dark, and filled with cobwebs. your flashlight flickered as you descended the creaking stairs, and you swore under your breath.  

"if this thing jumps out at me, i’m leaving dean to deal with it solo," you muttered to yourself, sweeping the light across the room.  

you spotted an old, ornate mirror leaning against the far wall. it was cracked but still intact - a likely candidate for the spirit's anchor.  

"dean, i found something," you said into the walkie-talkie dean had insisted you carry.  

"copy that," came his reply. "on my way down. don't touch it."  

"wasn't planning on it, boss," you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.  

dean joined you a minute later, shotgun in hand. he gave the mirror a once-over, his expression hardening.  

"yep, that's the one," he said. "you got the salt?"  

you nodded, pulling the bag from your backpack.  

"good. i'll cover you," he said, positioning himself between you and the dark corners of the basement.  

"you know, for someone who calls me a rookie, you sure don’t trust me to handle things on my own," you teased, pouring the salt over the mirror.  

"nah, i trust you," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "just don’t want you getting yourself killed. i'd miss you too much."  

the comment caught you off guard, and you glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. but before you could say anything, the temperature in the room plummeted.  

a figure materialized behind dean - a translucent woman with hollow eyes and a twisted expression of rage.  

"dean!" you shouted, and he spun around just in time to fire a round of rock salt at her. the spirit screeched, vanishing into thin air.  

"you okay?" he asked, turning back to you.  

"yeah," you said, your heart pounding. "but she’s definitely not gone for good."  

"not until we burn this thing," dean said, nodding toward the mirror.  

you struck a match, lighting the accelerant you’d poured over the salt. the mirror went up in flames, and another anguished wail echoed through the basement before fading into silence.  

back upstairs, you and dean collapsed onto the dusty couch, both of you breathing heavily.  

"you know," you said, leaning your head back, "for a rookie, i think i did pretty well tonight."  

dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, you didn’t screw up too bad."  

"high praise," you said, feeling fatigue spread over you once more.

he glanced at you, his expression softening in that way that always caught you off guard. "i mean it," he said. "you did good, sweetheart."  

you couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion or the way he said it, but something about the moment felt different. heavier.  

"thanks," you said softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.  

before either of you could say anything else, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.  

"hey, uh, guys?" sam’s voice came through, tinged with static. "you alive down there?"  

"barely," dean replied, grabbing the device. "but the spirit's toast. we'll meet you back at the motel."  

"got it," sam said.  

the drive back was quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t just the exhaustion. something unspoken lingered between you, making the silence feel heavier than usual.  

"so," you said finally, breaking the tension. "you think sam's gonna be mad we didn’t wait for him?"  

"nah," dean said, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "he’s used to it by now."  

you laughed, shaking your head. "poor guy."  

"hey, he knew what he was signing up for," dean said. "besides, he’s probably just glad you didn’t burn the whole cabin down."  

"oh, so now i’m a fire hazard?"  

"just saying, i’ve seen you with matches," he teased, and you couldn’t help but laugh again.  

back at the motel, sam was already poring over research for the next hunt.  

"how’d it go?" he asked, barely looking up.  

"spirit's gone," dean said, flopping onto one of the beds. "but the place was a real fixer-upper."  

"great," sam said, clearly not listening.  

"you know, you’re a terrible audience," you said, plopping down beside dean.  

sam hummed distractedly, still scrolling through his laptop.  

"don’t take it personally, sweetheart," dean said, grinning at you. "he’s just jealous he missed all the action."  

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. despite the exhaustion, there was a strange warmth settling in your chest, one you weren’t quite ready to examine too closely.  

later that night, after sam had gone to bed, you and dean found yourselves sitting outside the motel, the night air cool and refreshing after the storm.  

“you still can’t sleep, huh? we really gotta get that checked out.” dean uttered, breaking the silence. “c’mon kid, what’s got your mind going so crazy?”

"you ever think about, you know, taking a break?" you asked, staring up at the stars, surprised with how he could always clock you so quickly.

"from hunting?" dean asked, raising an eyebrow.  

"yeah," you said. "just... doing something normal for once."  

he snorted. "normal’s overrated."  

"come on," you said, nudging him with your elbow. "you’ve never thought about it? not even a little?"  

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "maybe," he admitted finally. "but normal’s not in the cards for people like us."  

"i guess not," you said softly, though you couldn’t help but wish it were different.  

the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.  

"you know," dean said after a while, "you’re not half bad at this whole hunting thing."  

"high praise," you said, smiling faintly.  

"i mean it," he said, his tone more serious than you expected. "you’ve got guts. most people wouldn’t last a week in this life, but you - "  

he stopped, shaking his head like he wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.  

"but me?" you prompted, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand.  

"but you’re different," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.  

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything. instead, you let the moment hang between you, heavy and unspoken but somehow perfect in its own way.  

the next hunt came quicker than expected - barely two days after the cabin job. a string of disappearances in a sleepy town near a dense forest had drawn your attention. while sam was still digging through lore, you and dean decided to scout the area.  

"we’ll take the impala and check out the woods," dean had said, tossing you your jacket.  

"because that worked so well last time," you quipped, zipping up your coat.  

"what can i say?" he said with a smirk. "i like to live dangerously."  

the forest was eerily quiet as the two of you trudged along a narrow dirt path. the afternoon sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above, casting the area in a dim, golden haze.  

"you know," you said, stepping over a fallen branch, "i don’t think i’ve ever seen you willingly go for a hike. kind of nice to see you in your natural habitat."  

dean shot you a look. "i’ll have you know i’m very outdoorsy."  

"oh, sure," you said, grinning. "nothing says 'man of the wilderness' like a guy who packs cheeseburgers for every meal."  

"hey, those cheeseburgers keep me alive," he said, pretending to be offended. "besides, you’re one to talk. what’s in your backpack right now? candy bars?"  

"no comment," you said, giggling as he shook his head.  

you reached a clearing after about an hour of walking. the ground was covered in strange markings - symbols carved into the dirt, arranged in an ominous circle.  

"well, that’s not creepy at all," you muttered, crouching to get a closer look.  

dean knelt beside you, his brow furrowed. "witchcraft, maybe?"  

"maybe," you said. "but why the forest? wouldn’t a house or barn make more sense?"  

"maybe they like the fresh air," he said, scanning the area with his flashlight. "either way, we need to be careful. whoever’s behind this probably doesn’t want us poking around."  

"yeah, no kidding," you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands.  

the rest of the day was spent investigating the clearing, but the markings didn’t offer many clues. frustrated, you and dean decided to head back to the motel.  

"we’ll regroup with sam, see if he’s found anything," dean said as you walked back to the car.  

"do you think this one’s human?" you asked, wide eyed with expectation.

he glanced at you, his jaw tight. "maybe. but something about it feels... off. i don’t like it."  

you nodded, falling silent. his instincts were rarely wrong, and if dean was uneasy, you knew better than to dismiss it.  

back at the motel, sam had made some progress.  

"the symbols in the clearing - they’re part of a summoning ritual," he explained, showing you a dusty old book.  

"great," dean said, flopping onto the bed. "so, what are we dealing with? demons? spirits? something worse?"  

sam hesitated, glancing between the two of you. "it’s a summoning ritual for a wendigo."  

your stomach dropped.  

"a wendigo?" you repeated. "seriously?"  

"yeah," sam said grimly. "and if the markings in that clearing are any indication, they’re close to finishing the ritual."  

"perfect," dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. 

the plan was simple: return to the forest, disrupt the ritual, and kill the wendigo if it had already been summoned.  

"simple," you said, your tone dry as you loaded your shotgun.  

"hey, it’s worked before," dean said, smirking as he handed you a flare gun.  

"yeah, and almost got us killed before," you shot back, though you couldn’t help the fearful expression that broke out on your face.

"what can i say?" he said, shrugging. "we’re good at not dying."  

the forest felt different this time - heavier, like the air itself was charged with something dark and unnatural.  

"stay close," dean said, his voice low.  

"i definitely wasn’t planning on wandering off," you replied, gripping your shotgun tightly.  

he shot you a quick glance, his expression softer than you expected. "just... stay close, okay?"  

"okay," you said quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat.  

the clearing was empty when you arrived, but the symbols on the ground glowed faintly, pulsing with an eerie red light.  

"that’s new," dean said, his jaw tightening.  

"you think the ritual’s already started?" you asked.  

"probably," he said, scanning the area. "we need to move fast."  

you started disrupting the symbols, kicking dirt over them while dean poured salt and lighter fluid around the edges.  

"almost done," you said, glancing over at him.  

but before he could respond, a bloodcurdling roar echoed through the forest.  

"guess that answers that," dean muttered, raising his shotgun.  

the wendigo burst into the clearing, its pale, emaciated form moving with unnatural speed.  

"stay back!" dean shouted, firing a shot that barely slowed it down.  

you raised your flare gun, aiming for its chest, but the creature was too fast. before you could fire, it lunged at dean, knocking him to the ground.  

"dean!" you screamed, panic surging through you.  

he rolled out of the way just in time, his shotgun skidding across the ground.  

"shoot it!" he shouted, and you didn’t hesitate.  

the flare hit the wendigo square in the chest, igniting it in a burst of flames. it screeched, thrashing wildly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.  

dean scrambled to his feet, his breathing ragged.  

"you okay?" you asked, rushing to his side.  

"yeah," he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. "you?"  

"fine," you said, though your hands were still trembling.  

he gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering on yours. "you did good, sweetheart."  

the drive back was quiet, the adrenaline slowly fading. when you finally reached the motel, sam was waiting anxiously.  

"did you - "  

"it’s dead," dean said, cutting him off.  

sam sighed in relief, but his attention quickly shifted to the way dean’s hand lingered protectively on your waist as you headed inside.  

later that night, as you sat outside the motel again, dean joined you, a beer in hand.  

"that was really scary. are you sure you’re okay?” you admitted, breaking the silence.  

"‘m fine, sweetheart,”  he said, his tone soft.  

"i know," you said, glancing at him. "but still."  

he met your gaze, something unspoken passing between you. "you know, you’ve got guts," he said, echoing his words from before.  

"so you’ve said," you replied, smiling faintly.  

he shook his head, his expression turning serious. "i mean it. you’re different. special."  

your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.  

"dean - "  

"just let me say it," he said, cutting you off.  

you nodded, your heart pounding.  

"i’ve been doing this job a long time," dean said, his voice low, almost like he was thinking out loud. "and i’m not exactly the kind of guy who’s good at this stuff, but… i like you. more than i probably should."  

your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat, but you stayed quiet, letting him keep going.  

"it’s not just because you’re super fucking cool or because you can keep up with me," he added, a small smirk tugging at his lips before fading. "it’s because you’re the one person who makes all this crap we deal with feel… worth it."  

his gaze locked on yours, steady and serious. "i don’t know what that says about me, but i know i don’t want to screw this up."  

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bit your lip, refusing to let them fall.  

"i… i don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.  

"you don’t have to say anything," he replied, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile. 

but you did anyway. "i feel the same way, dean," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his lips quirked into a small smile. "yeah, baby?"  

"yeah," you said, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.  

the first kiss had barely ended, and you still felt breathless, the taste of him lingering like honey. you pulled back just enough to meet dean’s eyes, your hands still clutching the front of his jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option. he looked at you with a softness that felt rare, his usual bravado replaced by something raw, unguarded.  

"so," you began, trying to find words that didn’t feel ridiculous in a moment like this, "i - "  

but dean leaned in again, cutting you off with another kiss, this one slower but somehow even more consuming.  

"dean," you mumbled against his lips, trying to catch a breath, but his hands cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward him as if the conversation could wait - like anything else in the world could matter right now.  

"mm-hmm?" he hummed, not pulling back. his mouth moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, trailing down to your jaw.  

"i’m trying to - " you started again, only to dissolve into laughter as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.  

"nah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "you’re not trying to do anything but stay right here."  

you laughed harder, the sound bright and almost giddy, your chest shaking against his. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this light, this happy.  

"dean," you said again, still giggling, "let me talk!"  

"nope," he said, his grin audible even as he kissed the side of your neck. "’m way too busy."  

"dean!" you squealed, trying to push him back, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close.  

"what could possibly be more important than this?" he asked, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. his smile was cocky, but his eyes were warm, filled with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.  

you opened your mouth to respond, but instead, a strange mix of a laugh and a sob came out, and suddenly you were crying - just a little, just enough that he noticed.  

his face changed immediately, his smile dropping as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped.  

"hey," he said softly, his brows knitting together. "what’s wrong? fuck… ‘m sorry baby, i - "  

you shook your head quickly, the absurdity of the question making you laugh again, even as more tears fell. "no, no, it’s not that. i’m not upset, i swear."  

"you’re crying, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and concerned. "that usually means something’s wrong."  

"i’m happy, you idiot," you said, laughing through the tears.  

he blinked, his hands still holding your face, as if trying to process the words. "happy?"  

"yes, happy," you said, your voice cracking a little as he wiped at your cheeks. "like... stupidly, ridiculously happy. i just - i didn’t think this would ever happen."  

his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache. "you really thought i wouldn’t want this?"  

"i didn’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "i mean, it’s not like you’re exactly forthcoming with your feelings, dean."  

he let out a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "yeah, well, you’re not wrong there."  

his hands slid down to your waist, holding you close as he looked at you, his green eyes searching your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory.  

"but for the record," he said, his voice serious now, "this? you? it’s all i’ve wanted for a long time."  

your breath caught, and before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his lips soft but insistent, as if he was making up for lost time.  

this time, you didn’t try to pull back or say anything. you just let yourself fall into it, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid up your back, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.  

when he finally broke the kiss, his lips barely left yours, and he stayed close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin.  

"still happy?" he asked, a teasing edge creeping back into his voice.  

you laughed, your forehead resting against his. "stupidly, ridiculously happy."  

"good," he said, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your waist, his touch warm and grounding. "because i’m not letting you go now, sweetheart."  

"bold of you to assume i’d want you to," you teased, smiling up at him.  

"damn right," he said, his grin returning as he leaned in for another kiss, and this time, you didn’t even try to stop him.  

ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[jaythes1mp]

4277 words, 24103 characters, 279 sentences, 116 paragraphs,17.1 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Ideas for the name of the pet turtle are welcome and encouraged🙏

You groggily woke up, feeling warm and disoriented. You stretched out your limbs and shifted up, the sheets falling down your shoulders and pooling in your lap.

The warmth and comfort of your bed suddenly felt stifling as the memories of the night before came rushing back to you all at once. A wave of nausea washed over you, your stomach churning with a queasy feeling that threatened to empty itself. You felt a strong urge to vomit, the events of the night still fresh in your mind, like a raw wound.

The images and sensations of the previous night's events were stark and vivid in your mind. The fear, the pain, the adrenaline. Everything replayed in your head like a movie, each scene clear and horrifyingly real. The realization that you'd been in danger, that you could have been seriously hurt, hit you like a physical blow. You felt your stomach twist and turn, your body's natural response to the emotional onslaught.

You let out a sigh, the queasiness still lingering in your body. Deciding to distract yourself, you leaned down to get some turtle pellets and baby carrot slices from the small container you kept under your bed.

With gentle hands, you unclipped the opening of your turtle's enclosure, pausing for a brief moment as you looked at the small reptile. It was oblivious to the turmoil you were going through. You place the food into the corner where its small bowl was. As you did, the turtle stirred slightly, sensing your presence.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers gently tracing the hard, bumpy shell of your turtle. You take comfort in the feeling of the reptile under your touch, appreciating its gentle presence in the moment. It responds by crawling forward ever so slightly, as if beckoning for more affection.

You chuckled softly, amused by the turtle's attempt. It was a small, innocent act that brought a momentary feeling of peace to your chaotic thoughts. You gently pick the little creature up and delicately press a kiss to its head. Its scaly skin felt cool against your lips, and you notice the slightest tilt to its head as if it was responding to your gesture. You carefully set it back into the enclosure, closing it quietly.

You stand in the hallway, having changed your clothes and brushed your teeth, but hesitating on your next move. You're unsure of how to approach Jason, unsure of how to explain what happened last night. Your mind is swirling, wrestling with the decision of whether to tell him or not.

The very thought makes you feel ill again, bringing back the familiar queasiness in your stomach. You chew on your lip, contemplating your options.

Jason is slumped on the sofa, the TV casting flickering shadows across his face in the early morning light. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from lack of sleep, his features etched with worry and concern. It's clear that he's been awake all night, his mind consumed by thoughts of your safety.

He had barely managed to stop himself from bursting into your room late last night when he heard about the altercation. The urge to go out and hunt the thugs himself had been strong, a fierce and protective instinct that had taken all of his self-control to suppress.

He sits up straighter when he hears your door click open. His ears prick up, straining to hear any signs of your footsteps approaching.

When he hears the sound of your door opening and closing, he leans forward slightly, his jaw clenching. He's been worrying all night, and the relief he feels at the sound of your voice is a mixture of reassurance and relief.

"Kid?" He calls out, his voice gruff. "Can you come here for a minute?"

You hesitantly walk into the living room, feeling a sense of foolishness for having lingered in the hallway for so long. You realize that Jason doesn't know anything about what happened last night. He would find it strange if he knew you had been standing in the hallway, silently hesitating.

You take a deep breath and summon up your courage, plastering a neutral expression on your face as you approach him where he's sat on the sofa. “What’s up, Jay?”

Jason's eyes instantly meet yours as you enter the room, a sharp, penetrating gaze, one that's immediately scrutinising you. He scans you up and down, no doubt looking for any signs of injury, or anything amiss. But his gaze softens when he doesn't find any.

He pats the cushion next to him, gesturing for you to sit down. "Come here. I want to talk to you about something."

You gingerly sit down on the couch next to Jason, the unease and discomfort you feel evident in your body language. You try to maintain a casual exterior, but the tension in your shoulders gives you away.

Jason glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he picks up on your uncomfortable manner. He turns the volume of the TV down, giving you his full attention.

He takes a moment to observe you, the slight tenseness in your body, the subtle shift in your expression as you try to maintain a facade of normalcy. He's known you long enough to know that something is off. He can practically smell the anxiety and fear radiating off you.

The silence between you stretches out for a moment, the only sound in the room being the low hum of the TV. Jason's gaze remains fixed on you, studying your expression like a hawk. It's clear that he has a lot on his mind, and he's still working out how to approach the topic he wants to bring up.

"You came home late last night." Jason comments, his tone carefully casual. He studies your face closely, searching for any signs of fatigue or discomfort. He's not one to mince words, and while he's trying to tread lightly, he still needs to ask the question.

"I waited up for you. I thought maybe you had stayed over at a friend's house, given you didn't come home last night. But here you are, at home and unhurt."

You visibly shrink slightly as you digest Jason's words. The thought of him staying up all night, worried about you, makes you feel guilty and regretful.

You hesitate, the memories of last night's events still fresh in your mind. The feeling of the cold barrel pressed against your head was still a vivid, haunting sensation. You let out a soft, deep breath, your hand unconsciously moving to rub at the back of your neck, a nervous habit. Finally, you force yourself to speak up.

"Something... something happened last night," you say, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Jason frowns at your wince, his expression hardening with worry and concern. He notices your nervous rubbing of your neck and the way you pause before speaking, the words reluctant and apprehensive.

Your voice barely above a whisper. As you spoke, Jason could see the way your shoulders tense, the slight shake in your voice. He doesn't miss the way you reflexively touch your neck, and his mind instantly jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Had it been worse than the demon spawn had described?

Jason's jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes darkening with anger. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what might have happened, so he doesn’t have to act surprised. The very thought of someone laying a hand on you, of hurting you, makes his blood boil.

He leans closer to you, his gaze sharpening. "What exactly happened? Tell me everything." If that little shithead spared even one detail he was going to kill him.

You inhale deeply, trying to maintain your composure, but the memories of the incident are still raw and unsettling. You shudder slightly, the fear and anxiety from the previous night returning with a vengeance. You rub your bruised wrists, feeling a phantom pain on the spot where the woman had been pressed roughly against you.

You told him in detail about what happened, having to pause during some parts, the reality of the situation having settled in. You could have died.

Jason's face hardens to stone as he listens to your account of last night's events. With each detail, his anger mounts, his veins practically bulging with suppressed rage. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, the restraint it's taking him to not go out and hunt for those women right then and there nearly more than he can handle.

When you finish recounting the incident, there is a tense silence as Jason takes a moment to process everything he's just heard. It was to a T what had been described to the family last night. His knuckles turn white in rage, but the way you fan over Robin even while telling such a traumatising experience causes his eyes to soften.

Jason's tone is firm and non-negotiable as he looks at you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You're not going out alone anymore," he says, his voice leaving no room for debate or negotiation. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command.

You can sense the protectiveness in his words, the raw, primal instinct to keep you safe and away from harm.

Your lips parted automatically, a protest forming on your tongue, but Jason cut you off before you could even speak. His gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing in a warning.

"No," he spoke, his voice leaving little room for argument. "This is not up for debate. Not anymore. You're not going out alone, period."

“Jason.” Your voice cracks with a hint of anger as you speak his name. Your voice strong and filled with determination. "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not a child."

Jason's expression darkens at your stubborn protest, his jaw clenching. "I'm not saying you're a child. But what happened last night shows you're not capable of protecting yourself."

His words are blunt, his tone harsh but there's an undercurrent of concern in his voice. "You could have been seriously hurt.. or worse. This isn't up for debate."

His eyes narrowed, the frustration showing in the sharp edges of his features. "... You think I like telling you what to do? You think I enjoy being the over protective brother who has to watch your every move? You're being stupid and stubborn." He does. He so desperately does, but he needs you to understand.

You freeze at his words, swallowing the lump that’s formed in your throat. His words cut you like knives. You had gotten so used to having him there to rely on that it hadn’t ever occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to look over you.

You never wanted to have to put him in that position. Your voice wavers. “Oh...” You hated how weak that sounded. You were better, stronger than this.

Jason's eyes soften as he sees the pain in yours, his own frustration shifting into understanding.

"Hey," he speaks, his voice gentler now, his features softening slightly. "I do this because I care about you. You know that right?"

He studies you, a small frown on his face. You look so.. vulnerable in that moment. So unlike your usual self. He hates it. He just wants you to understand where he's coming from. He needs you to understand.

"I don't want to control you... I just want you to be safe."

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his frustration still evident in the clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. “I don’t want to have to tell you what to do. But you make it impossible. You’re stubborn and reckless. You don’t think before you act. You take unnecessary risks."

Jason pauses, his words catching in his throat as he realises how familiar these words he's saying sound. They're the same words Bruce used to say to him. The same lectures. You were turning him into Bruce.

He swallows roughly, the realisation of becoming the very person he swore he wouldn't be weighing heavily on him. He takes a deep breath, struggling to control the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Frustration, anger, worry, and a strange sense of deja vu.

"This isn't about control," he continues, his voice slightly strained, "It's about keeping you safe. Alive. If I have to tell you to not do something, if I have to force you to do something, then I will. Because I'd rather you hate me and be alive than love me and be dead."

Jason's eyes lock onto yours again, the intensity in them unmistakeable. He would do anything, everything to keep you safe. Even if it made you hate him.

You swallow heavily, your heart feeling like it's been squeezed by a vice. The depth of emotion in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, it's overwhelming. You know he means every word he's saying. You know he cares.

But you can't help the anger that's rising up in you. You're not some fragile porcelain doll that needs to be locked away and protected. You're a person. A person that can think for themselves and make their own decisions.

You grit your teeth and let your voice hang low, unemotional. Detached. “Fine. I’ll call Tim to meet up with me at that new arcade between the theatres. Happy? Huh Dad?” You won’t. You just need to get out of here. You don’t want to be around anyone right now.

Jason's expression darkens as you speak, his jaw tensing at the coldness in your voice. Your use of the word "Dad", the sarcastic and detached tone you had used, it was like a slap to the face.

He can see through your facade. He knows you're trying to get him off your back. But knowing that doesn't make it any less painful. It makes him angry. You, acting like he's the bad guy in this. You not understanding the hell he's gone through, the hell he's still going through. It's so frustrating.

But he doesn't snap. He doesn't rise to the bait. He keeps his voice even, controlled.

"Fine."

The anger is evident in the way he bites out the word, but he tries to keep his expression neutral. He knows you're just trying to push him away. But he's not going to let you do that. He's not going to let you put yourself in danger again. Ever.

You huff in frustration and stand up from the couch, your hands balling into fists at your sides. You want to storm out of the room, but you can feel Jason's gaze on your back, watching your every move.

So instead, you settle for walking away from the couch, putting some distance between you and Jason. The room feels too small, too claustrophobic. You need to get out. You need fresh air.

With a final, silent look at Jason, you grab your phone and keys from the side table near the door. You don’t have a destination in mind, you just need to get away. Away from the suffocating atmosphere in that apartment.

Without another word, you open the front door and stride out into the hallway, letting the door slam shut behind you.

You walked through the streets, the cool evening air doing little to cool your temper. Your mind replaying the conversation with Jason over and over again. You knew you were being stubborn, childish even, that you were in the wrong. But you couldn't help it. Right now, you didn't care. The frustration and anger were still bubbling inside you, fuelling your every step. You needed space. You needed to be on your own.

You were an adult, capable of making your own decisions. You’ve had to since you were very young. It wasn't fair for Jason to suddenly start treating you like a helpless child, just because of one isolated incident.

You walked for what felt like hours, the anger and frustration propelling you forward. Night settled over the city, the streetlights casting an eerie glow on the empty streets. Your phone buzzes occasionally in your pocket, but you ignore it. You weren't ready to talk to Jason yet. You weren't ready to face him and his over protectiveness. You just needed to breathe. To think.

You were so lost in thought, so consumed by the storm of emotions roiling within you, that you hadn't noticed the figure until it was too late. You collided with a solid, unmoving object, your forehead connecting with a hard chest.

The impact snapped you back into reality, a small gasp of surprise escaping your lips. You stumbled backwards, your hands instinctively coming up to rub at your sore forehead.

Your eyes widen as you look up, your gaze meeting the man's face. His expression is friendly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he stuffs his phone into his pocket. It's a sharp contrast to the dark, brooding anger that's been gnawing at your insides.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you look up, your heart jumping in your chest. Standing in front of you is none other than Bruce Wayne, his tall, imposing figure easily recognizable even in the dim street light.

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed where you were walking. You stumble backwards, a mixture of surprise and shock on your face.

"Mr... Mr Bruce?" you blurt out, your voice wavering slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you recognised the man in front of you. Your voice laced with shock. You took a few steps back, trying to stabilise yourself and put some distance between the two of you.

His eyes narrowed momentarily at the action of you backing away. A soft chuckle passing his lips. “Mr? I’ve told you to just call me Bruce.” Your name slipped past his lips so smoothly you’d think he’d rehearsed it a million times in the mirror.

It wasn't a coincidence that you ran into Bruce Wayne on these empty streets. Jason had informed them about the situation, updating them all on every detail. But you weren't aware of this fact. You didn't even know that the family knew of each other, let alone the extent to which they kept track of your life.

His gaze is steady as he looks down at you. He seems to be analysing your movements, your expression. He's probably noticed your frustration, the way your shoulders are tense and your face slightly flushed.

His smirk is still in place, his head tilted to the side. Playing his thoughts off as if he was amused by your appearance and not that he’d been standing there the past half an hour waiting for you. Watching the blinking red dot as it turns around each corner on his phone intently. He takes a step towards you, closing the distance you tried to create.

"What are you doing out here? At this time of night no less. It’s not safe.” There was a dangerous undercurrent to his words, a hidden warning. But there was also a hint of concern in his eyes, whether he liked to admit it or not, he did care about you and your safety. He wasn't here to reprimand you or give you a lecture, although it would probably come afterwards. He just wanted answers.

You huff in resignation and look down at Bruce's shoes, finding solace in the simple task of staring at them. The sight of the expensive leather and polished toes seems almost absurd. How did it come to this?Standing on a cold, dark street, staring at the billionaire's feet, after running into him like a clumsy fool.

“... I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why you’re apologising. For running into him, or for being out, maybe...

Bruce is surprised by the apology that escapes your lips. He wasn't expecting you to feel guilty or to even address it. He remains standing a step away from you, watching you intently, waiting for an explanation.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his shoulders relaxing. His voice is lower, a subtle playful warning. "Apology accepted. But that doesn't answer my question."

He takes another step forward, trying to catch your gaze, but you're stubbornly keeping your eyes on his shoes.

He hums in thought, then holds out his larger hand. His expression softening. “Come on. It’s late. Let’s go get dinner, hm?”

A moment of surprise crosses your face at the sudden change of tone. From the firmness and authority to the gentleness and affection in his voice. He holds his hand out to you, his expression a little more tender than before, the hint of a smile on his lips.

He gently taps your chin with his knuckles, trying to get you to look at him. "Come on, I'm not going to bite."

You finally look up at Bruce, a small, ironic grin spreading across your face. Despite everything that's happened, despite the situation you're currently in, you can't help but find some slight humour in this unexpected encounter.

You've had more than your fair share of chance meetings with the billionaire, almost all of them have involved a cozy dinner or lunch together.

Bruce's smirk only deepens as he catches a glimpse of your grin. Despite the situation and the frustration that has been gnawing at you, he can't help but think it's adorable the way your expression changes. The perfect child, unaware of the dangers the rest of the family have to face to keep your wondrous innocence. It softens his heart slightly and makes him want to take care of you more.

"What's with that smile? It's like you're enjoying yourself." He quips, his voice a hint lower as he steps even closer, gently tapping your forehead this time.

You snort, squeezing the elder man’s hand in response. “Is that such a crime?”

He laughs softly at your response, shaking his head as he leads you towards a black limousine that's parked near the curb. The doors are opened by his chauffeur, Alfred. The man looking vaguely familiar to you, but you can’t put your finger on it.

Bruce motions for you to get inside before following suit, settling down on the luxurious leather seat next to you. The door closes and you’re engulfed in the comfortable silence of the car.

Bruce rests his arm on the headrest behind you, turning to look at you. “You didn’t answer my question. Why were you out so late?”

The interior of the limousine is as extravagant as you might expect. Soft leather seats, tinted windows, a mini-bar, and a small flat-screen TV. It's all very impressive and almost overwhelmingly luxurious.

Bruce's eyes are fixated on you, his gaze never wavering as you settle into the seat next to him. He waits patiently for an answer to his question, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Just... needed some air.” It’s not a complete lie.

He hums in acknowledgment, his eyes roaming over your face, trying to decipher whatever thoughts might be going through your head.

Instead, he simply shifts closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently against his side. The action is so natural and so like him that you just find yourself relaxing into the touch.

The arm around your shoulders feels warm and comforting. Somehow, despite your earlier frustration and anger, being tucked into his side makes you feel safe. The familiar smell of his cologne and the steady thump of his heart against your ear grounding you.

Bruce remains silent for a moment, just letting you sit there, feeling you relax against him. His fingers idly toy with a strand of your hair, gently brushing it back from your face.

His hand is warm and firm, a paternal, protective gesture. It's a feeling you've come to associate solely with him and him alone. It's never been an overtly affectionate gesture, but it's one that you've grown used to, one that you've come to appreciate.

You've never told him how much it means to you. How comforting it feels, like a silent reassurance.

You hated to admit it, but you missed this. This warmth, something you never got from your mother nor the countless men she’d have over.

You only ever got it from Bruce. So you can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. You missed this, the warmth and care that he naturally seemed to radiate. It was almost fatherly in a way, but you never dared to think of it like that. You didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. You’ve always assumed it's just a part of his nature, something he does for all the people in his life. You wouldn't dare to read too much into it.

“Where are we going?”

Bruce feels you relax against him, the tension leaving your body as you lean into his side. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently brushing through the strands as he responds to your question.

"I thought we could grab a bite to eat."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes shifting to look out of the tinted window. The night is silent, the city's lights a blur as the car glides smoothly through the streets.

“A buffet restaurant maybe?” It’s worded like a question, but he’s already booked out the place.

You nod against his side. Your hands fiddling with one another in your lap. “That sounds nice.”

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for the readers appearance, no gender mentioned.

Seriously please send in requests, they’re heavily appreciated🙏

[nxuvillette]

TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL

synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.

❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader

❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.

You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand. 

It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?

About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.

Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant. 

It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it. 

For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet. 

He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child. 

Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made. 

The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier. 

“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.

You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink. 

Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening. 

You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again. 

“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?” 

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine. 

Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.

The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.

“I don’t..” you replied, dryly. 

He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”

Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”

Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes. 

Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar. 

You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.” 

The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry,  darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”

You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did. 

However, you were completely wrong.

That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point. 

Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together. 

It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day. 

You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue. 

For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy. 

You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning. 

You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you. 

Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts. 

It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you. 

It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.

At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.

With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself. 

He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case. 

However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing. 

Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.

Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time. 

Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so. 

But, he planned on doing it anyway.

All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.

But, was he?

-

That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you. 

You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him. 

Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”

“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.

Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.

After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was. 

You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”

Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head. 

You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.

Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”

His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth. 

Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.

“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin. 

“Our.. little one.”

Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.

He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes. 

“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be. 

He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”

A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”

The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 20

(Jack is a Grey Wolf Werewolf and greatly enjoys both the hot savana and the cold mountains. He is considered to be more of a lone wolf because he grew up outside of the typical pack setting. At Night Raven, he is determined to try and make his own pack structure to fit into, so far Leona is the Alpha of that pack and Ruggie is the second in command Beta. Jack has zero issue taking orders from Leona so long as it is not too morally questionable, he still has his pride as one of the few in NRC with a strong moral compass.)

Warnings: Yandere, yandere relationships, Yandere behavior, platonic intended yanderes and romantic intended yanderes, Raffle-less madness ensues, facing trauma a bit too quickly and a bit too soon, protective behavior, territorial disputes, wishes, most named characters make an appearance, Harpies, Werewolf, Dragon, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Shinigami, Hellcat, Naga, Genie,

~~~~~~~~

The morning carried on and eventually Idia, Ortho, and your usual Diasomnia guards accompanied you to where another Housewarden meeting was being held. The cycle was beginning over again and apparently Crowley was struggling to decide who would next be your appointed guards. Naturally, you wanted a say in the decision as you had yet to actually get a genuine choice before this point.

Entering the primary room Crowley used for meetings was quite normal for you, but what awaited you was something you didn't expect. Where you had been expecting Housewardens- those you had grown mostly accustomed to, there were several others present at the meeting. Countless eyes turned towards you and it only served to make you feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. Oddly, you felt more stressed being observed by your classmates than you did when facing the Rat that targeted you.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Malleus growled, looking at the many faces you were now faced with. His tail came up to wrap around your leg, as if holding onto you somehow soothed the great Dragon enough to not snap beyond his indignant snarl.

"This, is a collection of everyone who could be chosen as guards for my dear little chick, (Y/n)! I neglected my duty to do another raffle in favor of addressing the issues of security for the Spelldrive Tournament, so I decided to have all Housewardens choose a student or a few students as their fellow guards. This way I can do the raffle now and everyone is already here."

You looked over the many students, glad you could name a few beyond the Housewardens. Those of Heartslabyul were easy to recognize and name, as you had already befriended the five that were present. Floyd, Jade, and Azul were also familiar faces to you, given the fact that you and Jade had started to form a friendship. Both dorm leaders from Scarabia were present. The several from Pomefiore were mostly recognizable, but you didn't really recognize the almost effeminate looking plant-man with Rook and Vil.

As you glanced over the groups, your eyes came to a sudden halt on the furred figure between Leona and Ruggie. Bright yellow eyes gleamed at you from a seemingly scowling muzzle. White fur and sharp teeth hidden behind a long snout.

The heavy and hungry sound of panting filled your ears as did the echoing and haunting sound of Wolf howls as you stared at the beast in front of you. It felt like you were placed right back in that forest, where every shadow was a Wolf snapping their fang filled maws at you.

Some part of you could recognize the glowing yellow eyes of the Wolf sitting before you, having seen him in the halls before. Unfortunately, most of your mind was reeling in panic as your hand unconsciously gripped at your recently healed thigh. Despite your basic desire to not judge any of these men too quickly, you took a hesitant step back and that small motion was enough to trigger a large response.

Malleus was quick to wind his tail up your body and practically flung you and Grim back into his arms, smoke rolling out of his mouth as he glowered at the Wolf. In response, the Wolf didn't seem aggressive or angry, he simply bowed his head and whined out a short sound while avoiding Malleus' gaze.

"Kingscholar, you brought a Wolf? Haven't the Wolves done enough to harm her?"

"Rich, coming from an overgrown Lizard. Jack asked that damned Crow to be included, I didn't choose him, but that sure as shit doesn't mean you can target my dorm."

Malleus turned an incredulous glare to Crowley who had been watching the interaction keenly. The Crow had indeed allowed Jack to be part of the guarding group to represent Savanaclaw. He had allowed it because Jack himself pleaded with the Crow to prove not all Werewolves were dangerous. Crowley had been dubious to the idea before Jack reminded him that all of Twisted Wonderland was watching Night Raven College and how they immersed the Human in a world of magic. If the Human hated Werewolves here, what would happen when the Human met a Werewolf outside of Night Raven?

To keep his own reputation- and the wellbeing of his little chick- in mind, Crowley decided Jack should be included. Of course, he figured that you would react negatively to the presence of a Werewolf given you were attacked by a pack of them. His hope was that Jack's affiliation with Leona would help sweeten the stress and help you accept the Werewolf.

"I allowed Jack to attend after his inquiry into the matter. If other species known for their conflict with Humanity are allowed, so too should the Werewolves."

Malleus looked like he was about to speak before the beast- Jack the Werewolf, as Crowley called him- spoke first.

"I will leave," he stood, his fluffy ears back and his head somewhat bowed, "I shouldn't have asked. It is far too soon to be pressing the matter like this, especially when it was my kind who attacked her."

Despite the genuine aversion you had to the presence of the Wolf, you felt worse seeing how dejected he looked. It became a battle inside of yourself with the fear of your recent injury pushing you back, and your desire to treat these men fairly pushing you forward.

"Don't," you almost had to gasp out due to your own fear trying to silence you, "don't go. I-" you took a breath to steady your frantic heart, "I don't want you to go."

"(Y/n), he is a Wolf. He is the same thing that stalks your nightmares. Do you truly need me to tell you of your own fears?"

"I shouldn't fear him. The Wolves that-" you held Grim a little tighter as the kit nuzzled your cheek to calm you, "that attacked us... They're gone. They're not coming back. I can't- I can't let myself be afraid of them all because a few bore their fangs. That isn't fair. Not to them, and not to me. It just isn't fair."

Malleus looked like he wanted to argue, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jack and then back at you. Jack seemed to take this moment to speak up, careful to move slowly around you as you were clearly still wary and skittish around him. When you saw his drooped ears and almost begging eyes the image of the snarling Wolves began to dissolve, leaving behind a whimpering puppy. He was clearly no puppy- standing tall even among the other giants of the school- but he didn't have that same crazed look as the Pack had.

You tried to hold onto that mental image, wanting to treat this Wolf fairly but struggling to actually convince yourself of what you were saying. The battle was internal to see which won for your attention; the snarling Wolves or the whimpering Puppy.

"If... If it makes you feel more at peace, I am Domestic."

"No pride," Leona scoffed, "already rolling over to show your tummy, Jack?"

The Wolf frowned at Leona for this, but what Jack said caught your interest. What did he mean by Domestic?

"What?"

"Right," Jack scratched the back of his head in a stressed way, his ample fur fluffing out somewhat, "Domestics are members of the more beastly species that didn't grow up in their usual environment. Most Werewolves grow up with a Pack, moving when the pack moves and refusing any kind of excessive interacting with other species. I wasn't raised in a Pack. I'm Domestic."

Leona huffed again, his Lion ears angled back as he frowns at the Wolf. From what Jack told you, it helped somewhat to see him as a Wolf-dog, not a pure Wolf like that group had been. It was clear that a few of the others seemed to agree with Jack despite Leona's displeasure.

"... I feel like Jack should stay. He has a right like anyone else does. I won't lie and say I'm not afraid... I'm terrified. The howling... The fangs... The snarling..!"

You had to pause again to ground yourself, Grim doing an excellent job by giving you something to hold and cuddle for comfort. The little kit was clearly unsettled around Jack, but it was likely for the same reason as you due to the rather fresh memories of the Wolves. Still, the kit was of great comfort and you managed to get your breathing back under control, forcing down the tears that threatened to fall.

"I understand that I can't fear every member of a species because of what one group did, but I am still afraid. I think... I think some time around a Wolf that won't hurt me... that won't chase me like those Wolves did... It could be a good thing for me. Of course," you paused and looked back at the somewhat more hopeful Wolf, "only if Jack is okay with it. I don't want him to feel pressured into it if he doesn't want to. I would understand."

"... Truth is I feel like I have to do this, but not because anyone is making me. I know I wasn't one of the Werewolves that hurt you, but I do feel like I have a responsibility to prove not all of us are like that. I want to help, but I don't like that I scare you."

You just nodded mutely and Jack seemed more confident to take his place back with Leona and Ruggie. Despite your still present desire to run, you remained among the group, calming yourself as best you could. If you were going to survive in this world until the Ghosts found you a way back home, you needed to create and gain as many allies as you could. Jack included.

"Now that that's all sorted out," Crowley spoke, clapping his hands together, "let us get this meeting underway so you all can attend your classes. I forgot to do another raffle, so I figure that I can either choose a dorm for this week or we do the raffle now. I can think of several dorms that are more deserving than others- given the recent events- but another raffle is more fair. Thoughts?"

You were almost tempted to just tell Crowley you could choose for yourself, but before you could speak up, another voice cut in.

"The Spelldrive Tournament is soon. Whatever dorm is selected will have to balance having their Housewarden away and practicing for the tournament. Not that there's much competition for anything other than second place, Diasomnia will easily win with Malleus."

This interjection from Azul made the others glance around, but you were mostly lost. You didn't recognize this 'Spelldrive Tournament' and wondered what it was in the context of the conversation. From what Azul said, it seemed like a sports thing that the other dorms participated in and that Malleus was going to win if he played.

"Mr. Ashengrotto makes a valid point. (Y/n), due to the Spelldrive Tournament, you will likely have to stay in whatever dorm is selected so the Housewarden of the dorm can lead their team. I will be continuing my work on increasing security for the time being."

You wanted to yell at the Crow. Once again he was trampling over how you may feel on the matter and just telling you what to do as the situation came about. Despite your annoyance with him, you kept yourself contained as it sounded like the Housewardens were actually needed by their dorms outside of their appointed duty to guard you.

"Fine, but who is going to do all that? Why don't we just let a staff member keep an eye on me since everyone else is busy this week?"

"Nonsense! You should have someone who is a first year to help you in classes. Besides, they want to take guard duties. They wouldn't have all shown up this early if they didn't wish to be selected."

"Or you threatened them to show up-"

"Anyway, should I raffle this one or do you feel like choosing?"

You stayed silent for a moment, frowning at the Crow who seemed oblivious to your annoyance. Grim, however, was not nearly as thrown off as you were by the behavior of the Crow.

"I want to choose!"

"Works for me," you conceeded to the wishes of the little feline, rubbing his forehead affectionately, "why don't you choose, Grim? You've been a very good boy and I think you earned the right to choose."

The little Hellcat purred loudly in response to your praise, rubbing his head against your chin with a purr. You were preoccupied enough with Grim to not notice the many jealous looks he received from the several students stationed around you. Their eyes glued to how easily the small kit gained your attention and affections.

"I want Leona!"

"Really? Any particular reason why?"

"He isn't super nice, but he still saved you and me from those dumb Wolves. And if there's lots of strangers coming in for this spell thingy, I don't want to be by the forest..."

You felt Malleus growl more than heard him, the soft growl more telling than Malleus would ever be of his emotions. Slow rolling thunder caught your attention and you noticed the way the others became tense, glancing to Malleus.

"I think it is a good idea, Grim."

The immediate sound of an almost wounded cry left the Dragon, who now turned to you in stress and worry. He couldn't protect you as easily in the other dorm leader's domain. You would be mostly out of his reach and that thought alone set his own instincts ablaze in concern and fury. Not to mention Leona was clearly interested in you and had been there for you where Malleus had failed before.

It had the potential to drive him wild just thinking of such a thing.

"Malleus, it's fine. Leona can be trusted. He already saved my hide once, there's no harm in trusting him a second time."

"..."

The thunder was rolling angrily outside as a heavy wind hit against the walls of the school, growing louder as you turned your head to stare at him. There was no expression on his face but you could tell from the thunder he was upset.

"Malleus, do you trust me?"

The sudden question caught the Dragon off guard as he looked to you in utter confusion, tilting his head to the side. The thunder lulled to a soft rumble, wind slowing considerably as his blank expression turned to you. He blinked once before his eyes widened slightly, almost as if he were just now registering what you had asked.

"... What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, why would you feel the need to ask-?"

"Because you don't seem to be trusting me right now."

A hesitance overcame him as he somewhat pouted, crossing his arms and glancing away sullenly. His tail unravelled from your body and his wings drooped considerably. His expression was overcome with anger before smoothing again and he let out a long sigh.

"Trust you... Yes, I trust you. I am merely a call away, after all. And you will call on me if anything happens. I can... allow it. Kingscholar has proven himself a useful ally."

"Good. It's decided then."

"... Very well."

Malleus still seemed less than pleased, but the storm had stopped and his temper had considerably cooled. He was letting you go willingly and it frustrated him even more. The Dragon did take solace knowing you had the magestone on you, his own magestone suddenly becoming infinitely more useful to him beyond a comforting reminder of his mother.

You were glad to have calmed the Dragon enough to step away from him, noticing the way he seemed to be lost in thought now. The almost unaware way Malleus now behaved interested you, but you tried to not pay too much attention to him now he had calmed.

"Hey, Lion-guy-"

"You know my name is Leona, you cheeky cub."

"Yeah, Lion-a-guy, what is Savanaclaw like? Is there music? Oh! Can you all play the kind of music Mama likes?"

You laughed softly at this, kissing the well intended kit's forehead. A few of those in the room seemed surprised as Grim called you Mama- a newly formed habit of his after he awoke without you that morning- but you ignored the looks and snuggled the kit.

"I wish."

These two words caused an unusual response from two of those in the room. The two you were only vaguely familiar with reacted to your wistful words in usual ways. You had been introduced to them by Lilia when you had asked Silver to invite the dorm leaders of Scarabia the day prior. The Snake was Jamil Viper and the golden glowing one was a Genie named Kalim Al-Asim.

"Wish granted!"

Before you could move, a sudden golden glow came from one of Idia's many floating skulls, seeming to buzz and crackle for a moment before crashing to the ground. Idia seemed rather distressed as his one other skull bot hovered around him, the Shinigami stooping down to pick up the device before a lulling melodic tone came from it. It hummed gently and you quickly recognized the song as one you had listened to often prior to entering this world of monsters.

"Wait," you grabbed the device from the nervous Shinigami with one hand, Grim sitting up in your arm to look at the skull curiously, "I know that song!"

As the song continued, you somewhat felt a wash of relief overtake you. Part of you had mourned the loss of your music, knowing there was little chance this world had the same songs you enjoyed so much before you were thrown into it. Now it seemed this skull-bot of Idia's- which was glowing a gentle gold- seemed to fill that void you had been suffering.

"... One of his wishes worked?"

Jamil sounded completely incredulous as your turned to look at him, holding the device that must have been affected by Kalim's magic. The skull seemed to be intact despite the delicate wiring that went in to making it and even Kalim seemed surprised. That surprise quickly turned to excitement as he jumped up from his chair.

"I knew I could do it! Did you see, Jamil? Look! I did it and nothing bad happened!"

You were vaguely confused by Kalim's response to seeing his magic work to grant your wish and you wondered why he was so excited about it. Lilia had told you he was a Genie, so it would make sense that his wishes would work.

"Make another wish-!"

"No."

Jamil's tail suddenly wrapped around Kalim and cut him off, squeezing the grinning Genie tightly in the scales.

"Just because this one didn't end terribly, doesn't mean it won't suddenly explode later or the next one won't have dire consequences. (Y/n), I beg you, do not make a wish again. There's a reason Kalim isn't allowed to grant wishes and I would rather a wish he grants you doesn't end in your death."

You were surprised to hear the serious request from the frowning snake as he squeezed Kalim again. How could it be so bad when you were holding the result of a good wish? Maybe there was just something different about your wish that let it work this time?

"I'll hold onto it for now in case it does explode."

Idia said, lifting it out of your hand and moved away, despite how you tried to make a grab for it. He kept it out of your reach and you angrily huffed, holding onto Grim as you glared at the tall Shinigami.

"Sorry, HellKitty, I don't want you holding it when it explodes. Okay?"

"But if it doesn't explode in the next few days, I want it back. I already have so little from my home, I want my music."

"Promise I will return it once I make a few tweaks to keep it from exploding."

"... Fine."

Crowley seemed thrilled with this development as he clapped his hands, his feathers somewhat ruffled despite his smile.

"Wonderful! Now, you all should run off to class before they start. Remember, my little chick, you are staying in Savanaclaw until the Spelldrive Tournament, okay?"

You nodded and Leona sent a clear taunting grin towards Malleus as he stood up, resting his arm over your shoulders and began herding you towards the door. Ruggie and Jack followed, Jack keeping a bit more distance for your sake, as Malleus glared at the departing Lion. He had to remind himself that he could keep an eye on you with that Magestone hanging from your neck, and it would have to be enough for now.

Should that Lion try anything while you are in Savanaclaw, Malleus was sure to have a quick response against it. You were just glad to have a break from the ever doting Diasomnia. Maybe this would prove to be a good thing.

[n3ptoonz]

I have a pre-relationship request that’s more on the cute side. Can you please write Bi Han, Kenshi, Johnny, Liu Kang, Raiden and Kung Lao reacting to the reader (who is a new kombatant) who has been feeling weary from the training and falling asleep on the men’s shoulder? It can be under different scenarios, whatever you think works the best :)

this is so cute!! i'll be happy to write this😁

no warnings, pure FLUFF <3

Sub-Zero

Being a new kombatant came with a lot of responsibilities. However, for lack of better word, it felt like more of a responsibility being around Bi-Han than any other. He knew not to work you as hard as his recruits, so with the kindness left in his heart he offered to help and train with you. He was quite impressed with your quick learning and determination too. So one day after a long session--this was his way of saying he thought you were good enough to train with him that long--you sat together to cool off in a comfortable silence. After a while he began to ramble on about duties and such when he turned to feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He was honestly going to wake you up, but then felt you deserved the rest. Anybody who passed by him earned a mean glare if they even tried speaking to him and possibly waking you up, but shh! You didn't hear that from me!

Kenshi Takahashi

After being assigned to work with Kenshi, it's natural that you were nervous. You heard many stories about the blind swordsman, and now you were actually in his presence. Sensing your hesitance to really give your all out of nervousness, he always made sure to let you know you can give everything you got, so gradually over time you two became comfortable during and after training sessions. You've learned a lot from him: from stances, to breathing patterns, to how to efficiently piss Johnny off if he bothered you with his droning on about being in Hollywood, it was no question that you two connected on another level. After a particularly challenging session, he paid no mind to you falling asleep on his shoulder. You earned it. He'd carry on with his own conversations while making sure he didn't budge. It could also be something he brags about to Johnny, cause why the hell not?

Johnny Cage

When you were first introduced to the fighting scene by Liu Kang, you expected to meet all types of esteemed warriors and established individuals that wore their honor on their sleeves. When it came to Johnny, it was weirdly charming. He was the first to offer to train with you because you looked strong. He'd play around with the whole "I'll go easy on you" speech until you showed him what you're capable of. Now, he took you seriously. The Johnny Cage that came to light when he wanted to prove a point was always present when you showed up, but you admired it nonetheless. You liked that he didn't view you as some weakling that could be talked down on. So post intense sparring match with you out like a light once your head laid upon his shoulder, he just quietly laughed it off and patted your head. "You're lucky we tied." he whispered.

Liu Kang

Of course, anybody's heart would be thumping in the presence of a God. The God of Fire himself kindly offered to take you under his wing, seeing great potential in you and your future. Liu Kang took this role very seriously, so while he explained you were hand picked, you immediately snapped into a warrior's mindset. Being a new kombatant was the highest honor in your eyes, especially while being backed by a literal God. Though he will have no issue reminding you to just view him as another friend--glowing eyes and all power aside. Being your Lord eventually felt no different than simply speaking to a superior you could say what's up to. He admired your love for training and being quick on your toes, so no wonder you fell asleep on him. Working with a God is no joke!

Raiden

Getting to train with the champion of Earthrealm was surreal to you. Although when you met Raiden, you didn't think he'd be so sweet and chill. Most of all humble. Letting him know you were new here made him so happy, especially now since he didn't have to deal with Kung Lao's blabbering about if he was champion. It didn't take long to start training longer and harder, but sometimes it may have been a little difficult to keep up. He is the champion for a reason! There'd be a plethora of opportunities to learn from each other and understand each other better through fighting. It was a breath of fresh air to learn you both viewed kombat as a means of expression and art. Falling asleep on his shoulder after a long day made his own tiredness disappear. He was honored that you felt so comfortable and relaxed around him--this much was clear when someone walked past him grinning ear to ear.

Kung Lao

A new kombatant for him to train with?! Let's go! Kung Lao was a man that needed no introduction. Once he eyes laid upon you, he could sense your strength from across the room. He wore his pride on his sleeve, but it honestly didn't bother you much. He was the same man who came this close to being champion of Earthrealm and had his own set of great skill. He loved training with you. You were able to keep up with him in a short amount of time and even develop your own flair being around him so long. In a way he kind of felt like your mentor. The evening that you trained so hard and sparred so well and eventually fell asleep on his shoulder, he expected as much. As a matter of fact, he would joke about it all this time after every session, half of him thinking it probably wouldn't happen. But regardless he found it adorable and wore this moment like a badge of honor.

a/n: lowkey i have no clue if i've reused the same sentiments for some of these characters but hey im used to writing in the format so yall gonna have to deal with it 😤 hope this was what you had in mind!

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Is it just me or do 2003 Leo and Raph have the best relationship out of all the iterations? It's my favorite, at least. Like they do get snappy with each other sometimes but their spats aren't nearly as often, as intense or festering as long as some others I've seen.

It was refreshing that Raph didn't challenge Leo's position as leader nearly as much. Sometimes he would challenge the decisions he made while leading but not undermine his position. He learned and mostly accepted that Leo would be a good leader in childhood and he backed him up nine times out of ten (even when Leo didn't know it: e.g. the "If Leo needs us, we're here. But let's see what this is all about." An instance of Raph pulling a Leo-type move, hanging back to recon rather than rushing in, while Leo's judgment was clouded. Learning from each other and supporting even from a distance)

How ready they are to be there for each other? How openly protective they are of each other? Like they're not as coy or begrudging or emotionally constipated as others about showing how much they care. Small gestures, big gestures, it doesn't matter. Leo's having trouble focusing on a plan because of the noise? Raph makes the noise go away. Wasn't Raph the first one who wanted to look for Leo when his morning training (getting ambushed by the Foot) ran unusually late? Or the scene where Leo's suddenly getting pulled away by an unknown magical force and he calls out to his brothers in alarm. Don cries, "Oh, no!" as he and Mikey stand there and watch; they freeze up. Raph dives headlong after him instantly.

And how they take it when they can't be there for each other? He dove headlong and he didn't actually make it in time to grab Leo's hand before he's gone. Master Splinter has to physically hold him back as he's still shouting and fighting to get to him (and then he has to be restrained again by magic when it looks like Leo's in danger in the 1v1 he was pulled to. Screw the fact that he's obviously outpowered by the almighty binding rules of the duel, he'll go kicking and screaming anyway, that's his bro!) And the scene where they're on top of a moving car, Leo loses his grip on Raph and he falls and from Leo's POV, time slows until he sees Raph land alright. Raph facing his fear ick about bugs, jumping down to defend Leo from the big boss bug with no hesitation when he sees him get stung? And of course when he cries just the once (as far as I recall) in the whole series when Leo's seriously hurt. How he makes me cry in SAINW as he crawls to Leo's side, reaches out for him, calls his name with his dying breath, his last word is his brother's name as he falls beside him, hand against his??? And that was after being estranged in that what-if future! LIKE BRO THAT SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM

Even just the two or three lines where Leo's waxing poetic about their family, being completely sincere, and Mikey bursts out laughing and teases him for being a sap. Raph immediately tells Mikey to lay off and that Leo's got a point.

They're just so good. They have a few arguments like all siblings do but there is zero doubt that they love each other to pieces and they don't hesitate at all to show it on the regular. And outside of that estrangement timeframe where they were traumatized and grieving and in a literal apocalypse where they lost all hope, they didn't let their relationship fall apart the way some other iterations did. (Like I love 2007 but that fight on the rooftop? Where Raph could have killed him? I watch it and I can't help but think to myself, "2003 Leo and Raph would never." We saw them have a tussle on a rooftop and the moment there was a possibility he put Raph in real danger, Leo came to his senses and dropped everything to make sure he was okay. I dunno)

Asfjskjfks this is all just biased four AM rambling. The point is I love them, your honor, best/closest/healthiest R&B dynamic duo forever in my heart <3 (Natural disclaimer: I don't say any of this to crap on any of the other iterations. I like them all! I just like 2003's portrayal the most)

[ikinremu]

Please write Tommy with a dom reader 🙏 (I loved what you’re told btw!)

Hi anon! First of all, thank you so much for the support on What you’re told, and tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy :)

Also, just wanted to use this to mention that if you have sent a request in, i will be working on it i just have a lot of requests to work through so please bear with me!

Look, don’t touch.

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Riding, Dom!Reader, Begging, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected sex, P in V, Teasing

"Stop teasing me, love.." He mumbled, a gruff undertone to his voice, hands rested firmly on your hips.

"If you want more, you've got to beg for it, Tommy." You spoke, voice sweet as ever despite the harsh command.

He huffed, clear and precise in his displeasure, "Please."

You chuckled; although not quite satisfied, you continued on, snaking one teasing hand up the back of his neck as you crept up to straddle his hips. "Please, what? Aren't you going to tell me what you want?"

Tommy's lips pushed out a low, breathy groan, the focus of his eyes honed in entirely on you, "I need to feel you."

"Better." You brought your lips to a soft, rather slight smile as you dragged your hands down his bare shoulders. Only gently, you dug your fingertips into his back, drawing yet another groan from his mouth.

You lifted one hand from its trail of his back, switching the attention to his thick, hardened length. Pre-cum coated his tip, practically begging for your touch. The moment you wrapped your gentle, teasing hand round his cock, Tommy's eyes rolled back a little.

You began to pump your hand up and down at a taunting pace, each stroke pulling an appreciative grumble from between his lips.

Shifting your previous position on his lap, you quickly lined the head of his cock with your soaked entrance.

He grunted, "Fuck, please.."

Once more, you sported a satisfied smile, the noise bringing a flutter to your stomach, arousal growing only further as his tip brushed against your cunt. With one loud, airy moan, you sunk down onto him, feeling him reach deep as you soaked his cock.

Your grasp returned to his hair, feeling the short threads run between your fingers. Your stomach twisted upon the way his skin flushed and prickled beneath your touch.

As you began to develop a pace both steady, and enthralling, your breasts moved with each bounce, and Tommy's gaze fell to their motions at once. It was the passing of a mere second before he outstretched a hand, which you dismissed with even less hesitation.

His face portrayed his frustration, with zero effort to mask it, only encouraging your teasing nature, "Did I say you could touch, hm?" You reprimanded the action, drawing a displeased huff from him. Grinding your hips so slowly against his, you kept at the purposefully torturous rhythm.

"Please, love, let me fuckin' touch you." His words came out in a flurry of hot breath.

In desperation, Tommy's hips bucked up, craving to feel you further as you moved against him, walls utterly drenched and squeezing his cock. Unable to resist, his eyelids fluttered together.

"Keep them open." You instructed, absent of lenience, "Look at me."

He complied, flickering his eyes back to meet your own.

"Good." You exhaled, finally picking up your pace, each excruciatingly perfect bounce working to bring him nearer and nearer to a release.

"You're fucking killing me." Tommy uttered, his tone somehow doused with both gravel and breathiness. The bare, increasingly flushed skin of his chest heaved as your cunt clenched mercilessly round his length, "Fuck."

Working faster, you felt his cock twitching within the warm of your soaked pussy. His breathing spilled out hoarse, shallow, bewitched by your movements.

"If you, fuck, keep this up I'm not gonna last, love." It was edging on a plea, toppling over the brink of eagerness - stretching far further than you'd heard from him before.

You beamed once more, endlessly encouraged by the tremble of his hips beneath you. The head of his cock pulsed against your g-spot as you rode him, hands remaining entangled down the length of his back.

Upon his words, you halted entirely. His eyes pierced a line directly through your own, aggravated.

"Not so fast."

And as you began replicating the gradual, purposefully teasing rhythm, Tommy knew you truly meant it.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hear me out this. Hanzo falls in love with a woman who's in the Lin Kuei.

(You can make it as horny as your brain wants)

(Please?)

Oooooooh our resident spicy boy!

Fire & Ice

Hanzo Hasashi x Fem!Lin Kuei!Reader)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Sexual tension, pining, opposites attract, slight spanking (briefly) unprotected sex, bath sex, PiV sex, temperature play(?) wee bit of Kanon fudging

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Hanzo is just MMMMF also Raiden is Light Aligned here for a wee bit of context

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

It all started during one of the first peace talks after the budding brotherhood of your Grandmaster, Kuai Liang (AKA Sub-Zero) and the Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu.

Once the cease-fire between the clans was initiated, it was met with mixed results. The original Shirai Ryu were annihilated (including Hanzo's wife and child) by the forces of the previous Grandmaster, Bi-Han (whom everyone later discovered was actually the evil sorcerer Quan-Chi in disguise).

However it came to light that the initial fires of hatred that were lit were orchestrated by the Grandmaster before Bi-Han himself; before Bi-Han became the void-creature known as Noob Saibot, before Cyrax and Sektor were "cyberized".

All of course, with Quan-Chi's aid...

But when Kuai Liang and Hanzo Hasashi buried old prejudices and hatreds and pursued an avenue of peace and allyship, they proposed training scenarios between the ninjas.

You were one of Sub-Zero's top members. Your flexibility and cryomancy a deadly and graceful combination.

Naturally, at some point you found yourself pitted against your complete elemental opposite, Scorpion.

Not only was he your elemental opposite, he was vastly more skilled than you. Having spent years as a revenant under the control of Quan-Chi, training others in the way of the Shirai Ryu, working with Lord Raiden... Yeah. You were a child compared to his prowess.

But you however, did get some ideas for your own weaponry from him. Instead of a normal kunai attached to a chain, you settled for a chain with blunt ends, allowing your cryomancy to shape various weapons at the ends. After all, they'd been useful for making things like spears, scythes and various others in the past...

And to say the man was floored when you used his own techniques against him--and mastering them with your own twists while you were at it--was an understatement.

It became rather normal for Hanzo to seek you out for sparring sessions, seeking to experiment with your respective powers you both created various attacks and techniques to better battle one another.

However it was during one of your sessions, where you were to be chased and he the hunter, that the two of you finally figured out that what was between the two of you was more than camaraderie, more than diplomatic friendship.

Hanzo himself realized a lot sooner than you did. The warmth in his heart (and not from his flame) and the increased rate of beats when you were around, how his thoughts would drift back to you when it was quiet, when he would pace the Fire Gardens...

It was a feeling he hasn't felt since Harumi.

He was hesitant to bring it to your attention, for fear of a repeat performance of some cruel twist of fate robbing him of the one he loved once again.

He couldn't dare hope one as vibrant and beautiful as you could feel the same.

Until that night, when he had you pinned to the tree, breathing hard from the chase.

He barely had a moment to realize how close he was to you before masks were torn from faces by your hand and lips met lips in a kiss balanced in his hot and your cold; a kiss so passionate steam wafted as your mouths parted.

It was under the snow-heavy branches of that tree where your hands first explored each other. Not in heated sexual passion, but with the desire to map out every detail you could, so when the two of you parted ways again you would always be able to mentally trace those lines, commit them to memory like a well-read book.

Kuai Liang had suspicions of a budding relationship between the two of you. If anything, you had to wager that he probably knew your true feelings for one another even before the two of you figured it out for yourselves; but he wouldn't bring it forth. He knew you two needed to figure it out at your own pace.

After all, his friend was still nursing a broken heart from the loss of his wife and child. But he knew this was still good for him, for the two of you, for both clans.

Hanzo Hasashi had finally fallen in love again.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Your first real "intimate" moment with Hanzo was when you showed him to the hot springs in the mountains. Heat, ice and snow all together in a blissful harmonious oasis.

Not unlike your love for one another, a peaceful respite in tumultuous times.

"This is... Beautiful." Hanzo said, his breath coming out of him in a cloud that swirled with the snowflakes. "But won't it still be too cold to bathe?"

You chuckled and pulled off your mask. Shaking your hair free of icy flakes. "Well, Hanzo, that's why the goal is to stay in the water. Where it's warm."

He blew out a chuckle and shook his head. "Obviously." He turned and looked around, the red leaves of the maple trees surrounding you casting a beautiful scattering of color among the white and gray.

"But it--"

His voice died in his throat as he watched you strip your uniform from your body.

You held no shame, clearly, as you stripped bare in front of him, your wonderous body on full display for his longing, hungry eyes.

You took pride in your athletic frame, muscles and soft curves in all the right places, your body a gorgeous shell for the violence you were capable of committing.

His dark eyes met yours, a twinkle dancing in their depths as your smile reached your ears. You beckon him towards you, your fingers curling in a silent request for him to come closer.

It is a silent request his body obeys before he realizes he's even moving, his blood rushing in his ears.

When your fingers wrapped around his tabards you begin undoing each bit of his ornamentation slowly, peeling it off of him like a juicy piece of fruit you couldn't wait to take a bite out of.

Maybe you would... later.

Once he was naked, you gave him enough dignity to spare looking between his legs, knowing he wouldn't be ready for you to look at him there just yet, you felt like he would set the very air ablaze; each snowflake that landed on his body melted with a soft hiss as it came into contact with his skin.

At first you were concerned that maybe he was too hot, that the spring might make him sick with the extra heat added to his body; but as you sank into the water, he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, his eyes continued to take your form as he thought you weren't looking.

Every scar told a story, and he wanted to hear them all, wanted to hear a symphony of your voices together as you breathed your love into one another s lungs as you shared scorching kisses.

You could have sat next to him. You could have.

But you didn't. As shameless as you were, you sank down in front of him between his parted knees, slowly, a soft noise escaping you as the water crept up your cold body and you pressed your back against his chest.

You pretended not to hear the sharp inhale of breath as his raging erection pressed firmly against your back, the heat from it almost hotter than the water you were reclining in.

You hummed softly as he slipped his arms around you, pressing a hot, damp kiss to your icy shoulder.

You'd swear he could probably leave burns with those lips of his.

"Hmm... How did your meeting with Lord Raiden go, Hanzo?" You ask him, sliding your hands up his thighs and to his knees, feeling the knotted muscles tighten and flex beneath your touch.

"Ah..." He said, his voice tight in an effort to control himself.

"It... Went well. Young Takeda was there, it was good to see him again."

"How is Takeda doing?"

"He's spending more time with his father, and I believe he and Jacqui Briggs are officially a couple." Hanzo chuckled.

"That's good, they're a nice match." You sigh, relaxing into him more, maybe, just slightly intentionally grinding your ass against his cock.

His arms tighten around you and he leans in, his lips at the shell of your ear.

"You're playing a dangerous game, my lotus." He growls.

"You know me... I live for danger." You purr, grinding against him once more.

He groaned in your ear and rolled his hips to meet yours.

"I have to ask..." Hanzo said, one of his rough and calloused hands rising to give your ribs a feathery touch.

"I'm experienced, don't worry." You assure him playfully.

"Good..."

Was that... disappointment you heard in his voice?

"Awww..." You reach back and comb through his ebony locks. "Hanzo... Are you sad you're not my first?"

"No..." He lied. "I'm merely content to know this will be fully enjoyable for you, then."

You gladly take a mental note and stow that information away for a later scenario you wanted to play out with him...

"Hanzo?"

"Hmm?"

You turn your head slightly and capture his mouth in an awkwardly-angled kiss, teeth and tongues grazing, nipping, and twining together in a passionate affair.

You lift your hips enough in the water so the head of his cock is squished between your thighs. You roll yourself against him, letting his cock stroke between your legs as you flex your muscles, gripping him as tight as possible.

"Agh... You truly live for danger, hm?" Hanzo groaned hotly in your ear. His hands kneaded your breasts, his fingers heating up as he pulled and twisted your nipples in time with the lazy rolling of your hips.

"Hanzo..." You keened softly.

"You need to stop." Hanzo said, gripping your hips, effectively stilling you.

You pout in protest, and look at him over your shoulder, waiting for an explanation.

Hanzo's tongue darts out to lick at a bead of water that rolls down your shoulder, and nips at the skin, there.

"When I finish, I want it to be inside you." He growled against your skin.

His voice and the way he was touching you sent a jolt of excitement racing up your spine.

"Yes." You breathe, your heart beginning to flutter in your chest like a flighty bird.

"Do you want me, my lotus?" Hanzo asked you. "Do you want me inside you?"

"By the Elder Gods, yes." You reply, your voice shaky but certain.

Hanzo quickly helped you up, turning you around so your breasts were squished against the rocks below you, your hands balling in the snow, ice creeping out from beneath your fingertips.

You eagerly spread your legs for him, water rolling off your body as his searing grip kneaded and squished the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks as his chest heaved while his eyes drank in your swollen and waiting sex and prone form.

"Hanzo, please?" You pant, pushing back into his grip.

His cock twitched at the sight of you, at the feel of your icy skin in his hands. Any normal person would be a shivering mess, being practically face down in the snow. But not you. You were Lin Kuei, a cryomancer.

His little ice lotus.

He gripped the base of his cock and took his time lining up, a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as you squirm impatiently.

He wasn't sure why, but something told him to raise his hand and slap your ass in a reprimand.

The squeak you made at first gave him the impression that he'd seriously hurt you, but when he noticed how demure you became, he chuckled softly.

"Behave, lotus. You must learn patience. It is a ninja's greatest asset." He said, his chest tightening as the tip of his cock slipped through your wet folds, the walls of your pussy gripping him in a greedy vice.

"Please, Hanzo..." You cried softly, trying to sink yourself deeper against him to sheathe his cock fully in the waiting velvet of your body.

Hanzo's hands prevented that, and it frustrated you, but your complaint died before it could form as he slowly eased himself inside, inch by torturous inch, until the tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix.

He certainly had girth and length that was definitely going to make you see stars, tonight... His size complemented the roped muscles all throughout his body.

You make a deep, throaty moan as his weight settles into you, your muscles squeezing him down, trying to pull him deeper.

You feel the short coarse hairs that reached his navel brush the skin of your ass as he brought his hips firmly against yours.

He leaned in, kissing up your back and over your shoulder until his mouth was at your ear.

"How do you want me, love?"

"Fuck me hard. Please?"

He kissed your shoulder, biting down and sucking the skin, marking you as he pulled out and slammed his hips back in.

Your cries shook birds from the trees, the sensation of his balls slapping against your clit sending shivers up your spine, the pressure of his cock pounding you and pressing against that one divine spot within you, each drag of the vein running up his length driving you further and further into madness.

No other man you'd ever been with had been so precise or skilled in the art of sex.

Your previous partners were paltry compared to the sharp, angled thrust of Hanzo's hips, his cock cramming into you at such a harsh and heavy rate that you swore you were going to cum at any second, gushing around him, leaving a nice creamy ring at the base of his dick as he fucks into you like a man possessed.

He grips your shoulders and pulls you up against him, so your back is pressed against his chest.

His hands rise to your breasts, his fingertips almost glowing as he pinches your nipples, the soft mounds bouncing and jiggling in his hands with each upward thrust of his hips into yours.

"Hanzo!" You cried out, tossing your head back with a wail of ecstasy, your vision going cross as he brings one of his searing hands to your clit, rolling vigorously, the heat feeling like it set every nerve in your body alight with fire.

"Come for me." He softly commands.

And just like that, your body obeys him, clamping down, squeezing him, trying to mold yourself around him; commit his shape and size to memory so he and only he could ever fuck and satisfy you ever again.

He hisses out a breath, steam rising in waves off his body as he fucks up into you again, riding out your orgasm as he rapidly approaches his own.

Hanzo eases you back down, his hand sliding up your sweaty, chilly spine as he tips his head back, his lips parting in a moan as he cums, jerky thrusts and loud whimpers from you as his boiling hot load paints your insides a nice, pearly white, threatening to burn a hole right through you.

He lazily fucks you, some of his spend leaking out around him and dripping down your thighs as he rides out the blinding high that took over every range of his senses.

Once the two of you regain your breathing, he keeps you firmly seated on his cock as you both sink back into the water, relaxing as the heat soaks through your chilled core while Hanzo gently pours palm fulls of water on your skin, massaging your shoulders.

"Mmmh..." You sigh, relaxing against him as he kisses the top of your damp head.

"You seem content." He chuckled.

"Hanzo, I'm pretty sure you're going to have to carry me back home." You laugh. "Had I known what kind of weapon you were packing, I would have been just slightly more hesitant..."

"Only slightly, hm?"

"Just a bit." You murmur, kissing the knuckles of one of his hands.

Hanzo grins and plants a kiss over the bruise he'd left on your skin.

"You will get used to it, my lotus."

[shih-coulda-had-it]

snippet from the starter pokemon ofa au, ft. duo holders & their dragon-turned-fat hedgehog mole thing (Cyndaquil!). wc: ~550

a/n: Cyndaquil Community Day 2024, I will never forget you being timed for a literal 108 F heat wave. THREE SHINY CYNDAQUIL, AND NOT A ONE OF THEM 3-STARRED.

//

The first thing Kudou realized was that Yoichi’s big fucking dragon was gone. The second thing Kudou realized was the tiny, stubby-limbed thing squirmed between him and Yoichi, whose snores were being unusually muffled. And the last thing Kudou realized before he would bolt upright was the spattering of open flames that flickered on and off in quick succession.

“Fuck--! Yoichi--!” he yelled, and instinctively shoved Yoichi away. His alarm woke up the creature, who let out a tiny screech and wobbled up on all fours, whose back ignited into a steady flame this time.

“Charizard!” Yoichi gasped, and then froze. One of his long-fingered hands clutched for his belly. Quick calculations went on behind those green eyes, and he nearly was too late to prevent Kudou from yanking his gauntlet on and training its sights onto the creature. “No, wait! Kudou, wait!”

They wrestled for the gauntlet’s straps.

“Get your meta ability to eat it!”

“That is my meta ability!” Yoichi exclaimed, and Kudou was so stunned, he accidentally let Yoichi clip his jaw with a pointy elbow. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry--”

“It changed forms again?”

“Well, I…” Yoichi hesitated. He was sprawled over Kudou, limbs comically attempting to wrap him up, and from this angle, Kudou could hardly read the man’s expression. They heaved for breath; Kudou thought his head was ringing, just a little. “Um… Leader… do you feel alright?”

“No?” Incredulity colored his response. “There’s some kind of rat in our bed, and it’s on fire, like your… meta ability…”

“My brother’s meta ability--”

“No. No. Don’t tell me.”

The creature stumbled in the sheets, attempting to approach. Its squat stature did not permit it to overcome one particular crease, and it tripped with a piteous little wail. Seeing it sprawled out on its belly, frustratedly squeaking, stirred some measure of sympathy in Kudou’s heart.

“It’s so cute,” Yoichi cooed, apparently enthralled.

“Why is your meta ability now mine, that’s the bigger issue!” Kudou cringed away from Yoichi as his now-lover scooped up the creature with zero fear, and plopped it on Kudou’s chest. It felt like a fuzzy hot water bottle. It squeaked again.

“What’s its name?”

“How’d you know Charizard’s? Bruce and I could guess how you got Charmeleon out of the lizard’s sounds, but Charizard’s were way more incoherent.”

“Mm,” Yoichi hummed, and carefully rubbed the creature’s fine-haired scalp with a finger. “I suppose it came from the bond. Do you feel it? Between you and… whatever One for All is now?”

Kudou frowned. He closed his eyes, and tried to isolate his immediate feelings of shock and worry from… aha. It had been so difficult to explain to Yoichi what meta abilities, naturally-appearing ones at least, felt like to their users��� innate senses. Gearshift was something like a gust of air, exhaled with deliberate attention, paired with a twinge in Kudou’s temple as he focused on a specific object.

One for All, apparently, felt like a crackling warmth in his core, and instantly, Kudou knew that he could replicate that otherworldly red bolt that Yoichi used to recall his meta ability to a different dimension. And then, he knew the creature’s name.

“Cyndaquil,” Kudou said aloud, and the fat little thing squeaked in acknowledgment. It nestled firmly by his collarbone. Never before had Kudou felt so gratified that Yoichi’s monster--Yoichi’s evidently transferable meta ability--wasn’t subject to mortal indignities.

“So cute,” Yoichi said again.

[chiqelatasblog]

The Moon is Beautiful, isn’t it? 🌕

->Ao3 link is here.

-> This one-shot is the part of 'The Savior Series.' Here is the first part.

Pairings: Bi-Han/Sub-Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/Scorpionx Reader, Tomas Vrbada/Smoke x Reader

Tropes: Love Confessions, Falling in love, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory

Summary: In which you fall first, but they fall harder. How Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi-Han each realize they’ve fallen in love with you and express their feelings in their own ways.

.

.

.

TOMAS

He was the first to fall for you, and it didn't surprise him at all. What did surprise him was how quickly it happened, yet it felt so natural, safe, and warm.

He was captivated by your gentleness from the beginning. Even though you were clearly afraid of them, you didn’t hesitate to make them comfortable in your home, ensuring everyone was well-fed and had a place to sleep. You were brave and so genuine in everything you did that it was impossible not to fall for you.

You always had a certain expression on your face when you gazed at them, thinking no one noticed; it was not pity but a deep, raw sadness that made Tomas’s heart ache. You were clearly angry and sad on their behalf, especially as you started to learn about their past and let down your guard as you got used to them.

It was late one night when Tomas clearly felt he had fallen deeply in love. You were fast asleep on the kitchen counter, surrounded by open books. Some of the notes you had taken had fallen to the floor, with Ninja sleeping on top of them. Your head rested on your crossed arms to make yourself a bit more comfortable, though Tomas was sure you were not. Your neck must have been in a lot of pain. Your lips were slightly ajar, your breathing came out in deep puffs, your chest slowly rising with each breath. Some of the ink from the notes was smeared on your left cheek. You looked achingly sweet, adorable, and innocent.

Tomas approached you slowly, not wanting to wake you. He glanced at the books you were reading; one and a half months had passed, but you were still looking for solutions to break the curse. This week you had gone to the city center, which had a huge library, hoping to find more books about the curse and maybe a solution to break it. You were so full of hope and light that it also made Tomas start to believe.

Your presence felt familiar, like the warmth he once shared with his family before their tragic end. It was as though you emerged from a past he had long buried, stirring memories buried deep within. He sensed a connection to you that transcended explanation, as if his soul recognized yours before his mind could comprehend it. This inexplicable familiarity felt both unsettling and comforting, like rediscovering a forgotten part of himself.

Though he might seem more harmless compared to his brothers with his easygoing demeanor, Tomas had learned survival instincts from a young age, navigating life's dangers with caution. Always on guard, he trusted few beyond his family circle. Lingering emotions from his past remained, deeply ingrained within him. Yet, in your presence, his defenses softened, his body responding instinctively to your calming influence. The tension that had once consumed him ebbed away, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable yet inexplicably at ease.

When he reached out to take you into his arms and put you in your bed to ensure you had a nice sleep, you easily snuggled against his chest. A small, ghostly smile appeared on your face as you softly said his name in your sleep. Tomas's heart throbbed. Here you were, in his arms, most vulnerable while sleeping and subconsciously calling out his name, recognizing him even in your deep sleep. How could Tomas not fall for you?

As he carefully carried you to your bedroom, not wanting to wake you, Ninja followed. He laid you on the bed and then lay beside you, pulling the cover over both of you. The kitten settled at your foot with a soft yawn, its tiny form curling up in a ball.

“I love you,” Tomas said, his voice as soft as the night itself, carrying in a whisper. His lips brushed your temple gently. You stirred a little, then snuggled against him, your face hidden beneath his neck, and Tomas could feel your smile against his skin. You also whispered softly, “I love you too.”

KUAI LIANG

It was one afternoon when you took a walk in the park and showed him the chubby squirrel named ‘Theodore’ that Kuai Liang realized he had fallen in love with you.

Under the orange rays of the sun, you looked beautiful, your cheeks slightly flushed as you gave the squirrel some nuts and encouraged him to do the same. Kuai Liang kneeled beside you, his gaze fixed upon you, and as you noticed him, you turned to meet his eyes.

Kuai Liang could hear the joyful voices of children playing frisbee a little away from them, birds chirping under the tree they were sitting at the base of. The air was warm but not too hot to sweat, and a gentle breeze surrounded them. It was peaceful and incredibly calming, a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He breathed in the fresh air, the smell of grass and flowers filling him, the tension his body had carried for years ebbing away.

You were an easy person to warm up to, always sweet and brave. Not many people could stand up straight in their presence, knowing they were deadly assassins and, if not for the book’s protection, could take a life within a heartbeat. But you weren’t someone Kuai Liang wanted to hurt. The thought of your blood on his hands made him sick and furious. No, he wanted to protect you, to shield you from any harm.

You deserved to be treated gently, always gently, since you did nothing but shower them with kindness. Kuai Liang had learned to act as people reached out to him; he would do the same in return. But for you, he wanted much more than just being on the same page. You were compassionate to him and his brothers, even though Bi-Han did nothing but hurt you with his words and rudeness. You still acted with kindness, quietly understanding why he behaved that way, keeping your distance and giving him his space.

You never gave them any orders. Not once, not even to test if the curse was really working. You just let them be. Kuai Liang didn’t know what freedom felt like after ten years of imprisonment. This wasn’t exactly freedom, but it was better than nothing and felt like heaven compared to the hell they had been through. It also gave him a better perspective to watch you and understand you. What he learned was that you were genuine, with no masks to hide your thoughts or emotions. You were open to them, with a golden heart, taking in the kitten you found on the street even though you had no income at the moment while also trying to take care of them. And you didn’t want anything in return, just their happiness, Kuai Liang noticed lately.

So it didn’t surprise him when he realized he had fallen for you, as he took stock of his own feelings. He was always a bridge between his brothers, and even though he was warmer than Bi-Han in his approach, because of his destructive fire power he kept his heart well guarded.

Until he kissed you on that couch after his nightmare. After you cried on his behalf and hugged him, always giving him space and control to act as he liked.

Until now.

As he looked at you, it came to him like a gentle wave.

“I love you,” he said. Your eyes literally sparkled, a soft smile appearing on your beautiful face as you responded with the same words. Kuai Liang couldn’t help but smile as well and reached to kiss you, his body burning with a protective fire, wanting to hold you in his arms and keep you close in this perfect moment.

BI-HAN

Bi-Han didn’t know he was in love with you until he realized he was about to lose you. He was ready to spill blood for you—it didn’t even matter whose. He was ready to kill Liu Kang if needed. All he wanted was to save you. He didn’t care about the curse; after ten years of obsessing over how to break it, all that mattered now was your life. If your life was needed to break the curse, then he didn’t want that. He could live with the curse as he had in the past years, but losing you? No.

So when Liu Kang stabbed you, Bi-Han saw red. His vision went hazy, all his focus on you as you stood there, looking strong for them, trying to be brave as you always did and smiling at them. It was a smile full of pain and sadness that made his heart clench painfully, his breath caught in his throat.

He was so angry, furious at the injustice inflicted on them, furious that you took this decision without telling them, furious that he had to witness this and do nothing in return. He roared, cursed at the Fire God, and punched the invisible wall that kept him from reaching you.

He could feel the curse lifting. The heavy pressure on him, which had become second nature as he got used to it, was finally lifting. But in return, he was also losing you. He wanted the fucking curse back.

When Liu Kang caught you before you collapsed to the ground, the invisible force lifted. Bi-Han wasted no time, sprinted to you, and attacked Liu Kang with all the feelings raging inside him. But Liu Kang easily caught his fist, covered with sharp ice, and looked up at him. “I can save her.”

Bi-Han breathed deeply, not knowing what to do with all the feelings hurling inside of him. His fists ached and twitched as he still wanted to spill blood. He didn’t know how to deal with any of this. But his logic came to him easily, realizing that Liu Kang could save you. So he let him be. Liu Kang quickly kneeled before you, and Bi-Han watched him, angrily saying how he was going to make your life a living hell after all you had done. You scared him shitless, and that was a new achievement no one had accomplished in his lifetime.

Like time being rewound, Liu Kang’s blue-orange flames covered your lifeless pale body gently and pool of blood returned to you just like nothing had happened. The Fire God spoke of you resting for a while, but his words fell on deaf ears as Bi-Han crouched to cradle your limp body in his arms, his focus solely on you. He didn’t realize he hadn’t been breathing until he could finally touch you and took a deep breath. His body was still trembling with adrenaline surging through his veins, all too cold and rigid, but holding you helped him calm down. He didn’t care about anything at that moment; you were what was important to him.

He once regarded feelings as useless, akin to shackles that bound him and made him vulnerable to exploitation by his enemies. Emotions were something he didn’t want to deal with; he didn’t believe he had the time for them. His clan always came first, before anything else, even before himself. Whatever was deemed important for his clan, he would do in a second. Lin Kuei was his pride and honor, and the responsibility for its future rested heavily on his shoulders as Grandmaster. But now, as he held you, his beliefs began to shift.

Yes, you were his weakness, but also his wellspring of power. His recent actions were the ultimate testament to his feelings. He yearned to become stronger and more powerful, solely to ensure he could always protect you, never wanting to fail you like he had today. He had never considered himself capable of loving another person; he had always viewed himself as too cold, harsh, and emotionless. Yet, as he gazed at you now, he knew without a doubt that he loved you.

He desired to be gentle, especially for you, so he could hold you without causing any harm. He wanted to offer you a sanctuary, just like he did for his brothers, a fortress where you could seek refuge and trust that he would shield you from anything. You were the kind of person he was willing to put his life in danger for. He was willing to kill and die for you, and it no longer surprised him that he had come to this conclusion.

As he watched you slipping away before his eyes, he felt as though he was losing control of his mind and body. He understood the danger of becoming so deeply attached to another person, especially as an assassin and as a grandmaster where from a very early age he was taught to put his clan first above all else. But for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to tame his emotions.

‘I love you’ he whispered in his mind. He wasn’t ready to voice it out loud yet, but he was sure you would feel it from now on.

………

Author’s Note; Hello, the third part of the series is out now! If you’re interested here is the link. I'll post it here sometime later💕

[taki-yaki]

Prompt: Tav that knows absolutely 0 offensive spells and skills, like she only knows buffs or healing spells. I don’t know what class she’d be, or if she’d be an ordinary civilian, but I don’t know if she’d be the leader. I’d like to think she’d jump at the chance to create an alliance with Astarion once his vampirism is revealed.

I think the closest for a zero-offensive Tav would probably be a life cleric of sorts who just has support spells and nothing else. So spells such as bless, Healing word or cure wounds, shield of faith etc.

Astarion x Pacifist Tav

You were never the fighter sort of Cleric. Seeing yourself as a travelling cleric, healing those in need, instead of fighting in dungeons. Mainly making a small profit by offering ceremony rituals or simple blessings whether they pay you in the end or not, it’s all out of the kindness of your heart. 

Even if along the road, a bandit chose to target you only, you would attempt to paralyze or slow their attack, whether it was a hold-person spell or a blindness. Anything to stop you from using physical brute force.

Despite all of your talent, you question how it came to be that the others within your group saw you fit to lead and find a cure for the tadpole in your skulls. Despite your protests of not being the frontline fighter type. However, Astarion offers a solution to your predicament, he’ll keep you safe from harm as long as you do the same for him. 

In exchange, he sees you as the perfect person to kill his old master. Besides what else is a vampire lord's weakness than the radiant glow of a cleric, even if you can’t fight with offensive spells, you could perhaps summon an orb of light on par with the power of the sun that will burn him to a crisp.

From what you recalled of vampires during your monastery education, they told you to avoid them as they were nothing but bloodthirsty creatures of the night, hungering for the lives they lost upon their conversions. But Astarion looked different to what they spoke, as if he needed your help, just like those you’ve helped on your travels.

During your fights, you would stay far from the clash of swords, healing and supporting from afar. Ready to heal him whenever he gets hurt, even if it was a small scratch. 

Of course, Astarion would tease you over your fussing with him, but deep down he does enjoy the comfort you provide for him that he thought he would never receive after centuries of torment.

At times he does offer to teach you how to fight offensively with a simple blade, but after continually somehow making the blade slip out of your grasp and hesitate to even land a simple swipe upon a training dummy, he relents choosing not to pull you out of your natural comfort zone.

Whilst traversing through the shadow-cursed lands, when the warmth of the sun is out of his reach due to the chilling touch of the shadow curse. You summon small orbs of daylight, emitting the familiar glow of the sun for him to feel the familiar warmth of the sun once again.

[saeclipse]

ʜᴜɢs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪssᴇs

ੈ✩‧₊˚: ̗̀ ➛ anri teieri x gn reader

๋࣭ ⭑ ➛ word count: 684

anri comes home stress, but then sees her beautiful lover (that’s you… i think?) you two share an endearing moment while i cry from loneliness

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 coming home from work upset is something no one would desire, but when it came to Anri it was special. She loved her job – wouldn’t trade it for the world. It quickly became a running joke that Anri loved Blue Lock more than you, sure that may sound unhealthy for a relationship, but… well that’s a future problem to solve.

“What happened, love?” you asked lovingly, while chopping the vegetables just exactly how you know she loves it.

She notably hesitates as she takes off her shoes, taking a moment to sink in the view. You, sitting there very attractively (and cutely) with your ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron that hugged your body in all the right places. Anri took a sigh as she came behind you, wrapping her arms around your body. Understanding what she needs, you set the knife down and turn to face your beautiful, recently married, wife.

Whether it was minutes or decades, you guys just stayed like that – hugging and caressing her hair. Nothing mattered in these moments, not soccer, not work, just you and Anri. God how you loved moments like these, genuinely wished Anri was with you (almost) 24/7 so you can hug her to death. Cause of death, Anri Teirei, hugged to death.

After a while she sighed and broke the hug, preferring to look you in the eye.

“Rin and Shidou fought again, I swear they’re like rabid animals.”

A giggle escaped your mouth, Anri giving you a harmless yet intense side eye. “Which one is Shidou again? The cool one?”

“Eyeliner, pink dyed hair, heightened instinct and positional awareness inside the box.”

“Uhh… yeah yeah those two and… that last one.’

Laughter engulfed you two as your bodies continued to intertwine. You had no idea about soccer, it held zero space in your mind. Yet when you went on your first date with your future wife, and she spent 99% of the conversation just talking about the sport and some guy named Theirry Henry, you knew at that moment that this woman will be by your side when you guys die romantically driving off a cliff (or maybe from watching too many soccer games).

It was almost natural the way Anri casually let go and sat next to you, on the counter. The way she talked about her day, how Sae Itoshi apparently wants Shidou to play with him in the next huge match, how Ego granted her, once again, some huge wisdom about soccer, how nervous and stressed she is for the future.

“And I don’t know, like I feel confident but I’m not. Surely the game will be rigged in their favor, right? And Shidou and Sae pair up, what on earth could that mean? Does Sae have an alternate plan? Is he gonna be the reason I have to abandon such a huge proje-”

A simple kiss, it was all it took.

“You’re overthinking. There's just of an equal chance Shidou might just be benched in the entire game, you’ll know what to do when the day comes. You always do.”

Her face softened as she stared into yours. It was then destroyed by tears as you were, unfortunately, chopping onions. Quickly making it her cue to actually go get ready in her pajamas. By no means was Anri an amateur at cooking, you just had a knack for it. No book in any recipe could ever explain how you were able to chop those behemoths of a food without a single reaction.

It was only then, while you two were snuggling up as you watched a documentary about Lionel Messi, that you stared into your partner’s face. Memories of family and friends joking about how perfect your relationship is. You didn’t quite find them that humorous (although some pride did fill you), after all you and Anri had your moments of, well uh… let’s just say incidents. You paid no attention to them, but it was times like these, domestic moments, ones that give your heart warmth – that you truly realized that those jokes were all true.

@lakeside-paradise @tofumiarchives @rini-rushed @shrii-kk

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 13

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Sinker

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Author's Note: Okay, so I know I said that this chapter was going to be the funeral scene, but it is not. Next chapter, I promise. I tried to fit everything into one chapter, but it got way too long, so I split it. While this chapter does not contain the funeral, it is still very emotional as Wolffe recalls memories of his wife. I don't like to exposition dump, which is why information about her has been sprinkled in, but I felt it was time for readers to get further knowledge about Wolffe's wife before we collectively say goodbye. Side note, is this my first chapter with zero dialogue??? Wild. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Part 1 || Prev | Next

Series Masterlist

Wolffe's heart pounded as he led Cara out onto the terrace. She held his hand and walked beside him without argument as Sinker walked ahead of them, hands folded neatly behind his back. He obscured most of her view, but she didn't try to break away from Wolffe's hand to see around him. Instead, as more and more people came into view, Cara shifted to a guarded position and trailed further behind Wolffe. He noticed her hesitation and squeezed her hand to reassure her as they approached the formation that Sinker filed into.

The terrace was full of clones, some in uniform and some in armor, most of whom Wolffe had never seen before, still, there were many that he did know, including the entirety of the 104th Battalion, Commander Fox, and several members of the Coruscant Guard. There were a few Jedi in attendance besides his own, but he ignored them. It didn't matter to him whether the Jedi paid their respects, but he had to admit that if there was one custom he was thankful the Jedi and Mandalorians had in common, it was burning their dead.

Wolffe's wife wasn't Mandalorian, but neither was he, officially. He wasn't trained directly by the Mandalorian bounty hunters, like the Alphas or the Commandos, but he was trained by Alpha-17 who upheld those same traditions and passed them on to the Commanders. Newer clones didn't always understand, and not every commander had the time to instill those traditions into their men. They may be fakes, copies, and imposters, but the culture gave them something to hold onto; something that made them feel like real people.

From what he could see at a distance, the funeral pyre was hauntingly beautiful. The wood was artistically arranged and perfectly level and the wisteria flowers outlining her body added a degree of femininity to the scene that made Wolffe's heart plunge into his stomach with a level of ferocity he wasn't expecting. The authenticity was unrivaled. There was more care and concern put into that one pyre than had ever been afforded to a single clone on the battlefield. He would have to remember to thank Sinker properly for all of his efforts in preparing it.

As they approached the formation of clones in the front, Wolffe sucked in a breath when he saw his in-laws within the gathered crowd. Their audacity to show up to their daughter's funeral after disowning her, cutting her out of their will, and throwing her on the streets, made him sick. When Cara was born, her parents made it very clear they wanted nothing to do with her either; something about the child of nature's greatest abomination being a stain on their superior bloodline. His initial instinct was to throw them out, but he remained calm.

However, his in-law's presence brought memories of their first meeting flooding back. At the very beginning of the War, before 79s was a clone bar, there weren't many places on Coruscant where a clone could get a drink or unwind, but there was one run-down tavern on the lower levels that let anyone in. That was where Wolffe first saw her; messy auburn hair, crystal blue eyes glazed over from being drunk, and skin so pale he thought she would burn under the neon lights. A man at the bar tried to cop a feel but Wolffe decked him without a second thought, and, as a thank you, she threw up on him. It was love at first sight.

After cleaning himself up, Wolffe was able to get a look at her ID and find her address, because there was no way he was going to leave her alone as drunk as she was. It surprised him that someone from the upper levels would hang out in such a dingy bar, but he wasn't one to judge. He hailed a taxi and paid with whatever credits he had to get as close to her address as possible, but still ended up carrying her on his back for the last stretch. She was loud and obnoxious the entire way, endlessly wiggly, and shouted pure nonsense in his ears.

When they finally arrived at her residence, he was greeted by her frantic parents and was subsequently arrested by the Coruscant Guard on charges of drugging, kidnapping, and assault. Without a single chance to explain himself, Wolffe was placed in binders and tossed into a holding cell at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. He sat in that cell all night trying to figure out how he could've messed up so badly on his first visit to Coruscant that his general probably thought he was the most incompetent commander in the GAR.

In the morning, however, it wasn't his general who came to get him, but a woman.  Wolffe didn't recognize her at first. Her clothes were elegant, made of fine linen, her auburn hair was neatly wrapped in a bun, not a strand out of place, and her soft blue eyes shone with compassion against her pale skin. It was her eyes. That's when he realized she was the same woman he carried home from the bar the night before. She was the last person he expected to show up at the Detention Center to bust him out, but he wasn't about to be ungrateful.

She introduced herself and then proceeded to profusely apologize for what happened. Wolffe was shocked when she started crying while explaining how she only wanted to have a fun night out away from her high-class lifestyle and strict parents. She never intended for anyone to get hurt by her shenanigans, especially the man who protected her honor and was kind enough to bring her home after she was too drunk to walk straight. In her eyes, he was a hero, not a villain, and she couldn't let her parent's influence lock him away forever, so she had him released.

It wasn't long afterward that they started seeing each other in secret, away from the prying eyes of her parents and the GAR. One thing turned into another and they both fell hopelessly in love. She knew he was a clone, and that her parents would never approve, but she didn't care. Even after Wolffe protested, saying they should break up, she insisted that she would regret leaving him over something so trivial as family status. So, she professed her love for Wolffe to her parents and they slammed the door in her face. It was the bravest thing Wolffe had ever seen.

She was left alone with only the clothes on her back and the credits in her pocket. Wolffe wanted to help her adjust, but she refused, asserting that she needed to make it on her own if she wanted to be seriously involved with him. Weeks later, when Wolffe arrived back on Coruscant after his first mission, she had a job, an apartment, and the beginnings of her own life. Fear crept into the back of his mind that she moved on and didn't want him anymore, but when he arrived at the coordinates she sent him, she welcomed him home with open arms.

It was that same night when they accidentally made Cara. It wasn't something either of them planned on, but they were both young, in love, and lacked certain levels of education on the matter. They learned quickly though, and even with the options and obstacles presented to them, they decided to keep Cara. They both knew it wasn't going to be easy, and Wolffe felt guilty about letting it happen, but his wife was ever the stubborn woman and she knew that it was meant to be, even if it terrified Wolffe more than any battle ever did.

Their first moments together felt like they happened only yesterday, but now, they were just memories. Memories that Wolffe replayed in his mind as he desperately tried to grasp onto every remnant of his wife he could, afraid that he'd lose her completely if he didn't catch all the pieces. There was still some part of his mind that didn't want to believe she was dead, even as he looked over at the funeral pyre with her form–her auburn hair, blue eyes, and pale skin–lying on top of it, just waiting for him to light the fire and fill the air with her remaining essence.

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[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:  Whilst in the depths of the Heroes Forge armory, you and your friends come across a peculiar sword that has a mind of its own.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: None, allusions to Jim x Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

“Vendel really needs to get on organizing all this shit,” you called back to Blinky. Currently you were halfway stuck between a fallen broadsword and a chest of daggers the size of your face. You could barely hold the heavy blade up, as it was just an inch taller than yourself, and you felt the chest dig further into your back as a nervous squeak passed your lips.

A second later you were rescued, Arrgh lifting the sword like a twig and offering you a smile. You sighed, wiping your hair from your eyes. “Thanks, buddy.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded.

Blinky appeared at your side, watching as not farther off, Toby struggled to pick up a large warhammer. “Hmm. Yes. I’ll bring it to his attention.”

The pair of you grimaced as a loud clatter came from further into the storage, followed by Jim’s cried out, “I’m fine!”

You let out a small laugh. The Heroes Forge really needed some work. After that last encounter with Bular, Jim decided his friends needed to be able to defend themselves too, which brought you, Claire, and Toby here, into the depths of the Trollmarket armory. 

So far, everything was so... troll sized. If only every sword magically readjusted to its wielder’s height (but not every sword was Daylight). 

You pass down the halls of the armory in a patient stride, trying to find something small enough to actually lift, when a glint from the darkness caught your eye. Pausing, you turned. There weren’t any lanterns or torches lighting the way, but down this hall, you saw a subtle red glow.

Obviously, you went to check it out. “Hey guys?”

Jim was at your shoulder in an instant, somehow, probably some secret power that amulet gave him (honestly, it was annoying that Merlin couldn’t have made a spare that you could conveniently happen upon one day).

“What is that?” he wondered aloud as you both came to stop before the dusty wooden table at the end of the path. Shields and broken blades laid forgotten on the floor, shoved aside by heroes past. A gnome skeleton sat haunting against the corner, hollow eyes sending shivers down your spine.

No one had been down this hallway in a long, long time.

Atop the table lay a shimmering silver cutlass, the blade so stark against the gloomy doom hanging in the air.

“Great Gronka Morka,” a voice sighed behind you. Blinky rushed forth, hands hovering over the weapon, before he stepped back like he was scared to be near it. “We must be very deep in the armory... very deep indeed.”

You, by your nature, stepped up to it, not understanding his hesitation. “What is it?”

All six of Blinky’s eyes zeroed in on you. “Only the most dangerous piece of equipment in this aged place...”

You turned to side eye Jim, brows raised, before you humored Blinky and motioned him on with a hand. “Okay... So what’s up with it?”

Blinky stuck out two arms and guided you away from the sword. Claire, Toby, and Arrgh emerged from the dark, curious eyes taking in the weapon.

“That,” said Blinky, all so serious. “Is the long sought after War Starter... the Coveted Cutlass... the Bane of Arthur--”

“Speed it up. Please.”

“That,” he continued. “Is Mordred’s Dagger.”

Crickets would have fit nicely in the silence, you thought, leaning away from his raised arms like he were telling some kind of ghost story. You pushed his hands down, nodding. “Dagger? That’s a sword, buddy.”

“To you humans, yes.” Blinky once again hovered his two right palms over the weapon. “But to us trolls? A toothpick.”

You just stared at the blade again, quirking a brow. “War Starter, huh? Looks harmless to me.”

“How dorste thou so?”

The sword’s hilt burned a golden light, a deep and foreign voice erupting form the dark. Every one of you jerked back. Jim quick changed faster than Barbie as his armor donned him. Daylight appearing in his hands.

You leaned forward in the following silence, only to jump again when the sword glowed off and on as it seemed to cough hoarsely.

“Seyeth som reward to youre eldre men!” The sword continued to clear its throat (?) whilst the lot of you stood in silence.

You were the first to break it. “You... can talk?”

The sword scoffed. “Of course I kan! Whethir ye han nevere come a blessid blade?”

You raised a hand and blinked dumbly. “Slow down, my guy. Too many words.”

“Hmm,” the sword grunted, seeming to think. “Is... Can ye... understand this?”

Before you could answer, Blinky pulled you back. “Stay back. We don’t know its motivations.”

You just crossed your arms at him. “It? Come on, Blink, we talked about this. Don’t assume. The sword can talk, so the sword can think.” You turned your attention to the sword. “Sword, uhm, do you mind being called it?”

The quiet that followed wasn’t exactly comforting, but the edge of the blade still glittered a dim gold that must have meant the sword was pondering. “I... Well, no one hath ever called me but that.”

“Is that was you want to be called?”

The sword again hesitated, whilst Toby eyed you weirdly. It was a sword, for crying out loud, and he didn’t understand why you were asking. He nudged Jim with the intention of sharing a little laugh with him, only to find Jim watching you with something lovestruck in his eyes. 

Toby glanced at Claire, finding not a hint of mirth in her eyes as she too seemed to wait for the sword’s response. So he dropped it, suddenly also wanting to know if this sword had a preference on pronouns. He paused. That was a thought he’d never, even after everything, thought he’d have. 

“I prefer to be referred to as male,” the sword decided after another few moments.

Blinky pursed his lips and sighed. “Stay away from him.”

“Thank you, troll.”

“Don’t thank me, King Killer.” Blinky eyed the sword warily. “Do not be fooled, friends. That weapon has toppled kingdoms.”

You cast the sword a glance. “Have you?”

“On occasion, aye.”

Oh. That complicated things. “Are you evil?”

“I’m only what my wielder has me be.” The sword sighed. “Lord Mordred was... unkind.”

You looked back at Jim with sorry eyes, feeling your sympathy rise as your friend came to stand at your shoulder again. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Blinky was getting antsy, his eyes flickering this way and that. “I do think its time we return to the Forge, don’t you Arrgh?”

“Yes. Time to go.”

“Oh,” said Sword. “I understand.”

You grabbed onto Blinky’s cold stone arm then, and suddenly your usual sass was drained from your face, and all that was left was your vulnerability. “Come on, Blink. We can’t leave him. I bet he’s lonely back here.”

“I am rather lonesome.”

Blinky took you gently by the arms, eyes imploring you to understand. “He is deceiving you, Y/N. Mordred could not have lifted that hilt if the sword had not chosen him. That is what makes him dangerous! No one can lift that sword unless he decides they are worthy.”

“You really think a sword so picky?” 

Again, all eyes fell on the sword. “Truly, I only thought Lord Mordred to be a skillful swordsman. That is all I use to differ those who dare to attempt my hilt. He’d trained since birth. How was I to know he’d use me to kill his father?”

Sword went silent, his words trailing off. “How... how was I to know he’d be so cruel?”

The crack in Sword’s voice sent you over the edge, your eyes boring into Jim, as if he could somehow convince Blinky to change his mind. It wasn’t likely. Blinky was stubborn, but so were you.

Jim just stared back at you, something in him softening for the sword. “Maybe you should start judging people on more than their sword skills.”

“Indeed.”

“Please,” Blinky begged. The rasp in his voice caught you off guard, and now you listened to him with a newfound transparency. “I beg you... both of you. Walk away. I’ve seen what this sword can do of his own accord.”

Claire inched forward, wrapping her hand around your elbow to catch you attention. “Maybe we should go. Blinky could be right. What if he’s tricking us?”

“But I...” Your words fell short, and you found yourself staring at Sword. His hilt gleamed yet his blade looked dulled by age... or perhaps by use. You shuddered despite the warm humidity of the armory.

“Come on,” Claire said softly, tugging you with her as Blinky and Arrgh turned back. Toby eyed you and Sword sorrily, before following after them. Claire gave up, rubbing your shoulder as she left you and Jim alone. 

In the quiet only disturbed by the dewy drops of water somewhere far off and the receding steps of your friends, you stared at that sword. 

“Are you lonely?”

“Dreadfully... Goodbye, my liege.”

Jim took your hand, fleetingly, before squeezing it and letting go. “Come on.”

He turned as well, but you remained. Their footsteps echoed away, banging around in the sides of your head, until you made a decision.

Your hand closed around the hilt of the evil sword, and you pulled with every bit of your power. The rim of the blade glowed a subtle whitish yellow, in contrast from its previous red, and the sound of the sword scraping against the table as you hefted the cutlass up rang through the hall.

You stumbled back from using too much momentum, not having expected to actually have lifted him. The tip of the cutlass hit the ground, and Sword let out a little grunt. You flexed your muscles and marveled at how the sword gradually got lighter, at how the glow grew brighter. 

“Y/N?!”

You turned the blade this way and that, grinning from ear to ear. Something about how Sword was glowing told you he was smiling too.

“Do you have a name?” you asked him as Blinky practically ran toward you with the others in tow.

“Sword.”

You hummed. “That’s a little impersonal, don’t ya think?”

“I do not have a proper name, my liege.”

“Can I give you a name?” you asked. Jim came up beside you, if only to keep Blinky from ripping the blade from your hands.

“Whatever you wish.”

“I wish you’d call me Y/N.”

“As you wish, my--Y/N.” 

A smile grew on your face when Blinky tried to reach past a surprisingly immovable Jim. “How about Cal?”

“... I liketh it.”

“Y/N! Put that down right now!”

a.n. i loved this so much. might do a part two with reader and cal’s shenanigans.

[buckyarchives]

JUST LOVE ME?!

oh my god I haven’t posted something in forever, but I’ve recently gotten into Star Wars and hopefully will slowly start coming out with new stuff after reading every modern obi wan fic ever. I’m not too knowledgeable on the sw universe so sorry abt that, this also ended up a lot longer than I expected.

Obi-Wan Kenobi x fem!reader

You haven’t seen obi-wan in over a decade, since your marriage and the empire, your secret love affair seemed more than dead. maybe not?

1.7k words

The force wasn’t needed to know who sat a few bar stools away from you.

it’s just that gut feeling in your stomach when something bad will happen, everyone knows the one. It was just like this, but different, good. Having not felt these feelings in years, you recognized it immediately, welcoming it like an old friend. This must be what the force feels like.

You feel the ghost of intuition brushing against your shoulder, whipping your head straight to him. Even hunched over, face covered with a large cloak and only strands of sandy hair sticking out. You knew, you always know. There was always something about this man that held you captive, you would be able to recognize him blind, and with no other awareness, you’d still crawl back to him with zero hesitation. The stool underneath you creaked as you barreled toward him like a tank.

“Obi?” The name hasn’t left your lips since you were a young girl. You saw his shoulders tense, freezing. You spoke again, maybe just because you missed the feeling of his name rolling off your tongue. “Obi-wan, is that you?”

He turns and you want to gasp. Not because he looks a little scruffy and dirty from hiding from the empire, not because you are disappointed or disgusted. Honestly, the far, far opposite. You’ll never be able to forget the sheet blueness of his eyes, the vibrancy dulled in your memory but it all came rushing back like a broken floodgate. All the memories with them too and suddenly you feel you might faint. He’s older, much older. The wrinkles by his eyes are more prominent and he’s tanned, bringing out his freckles and… maker, he’s gorgeous.

Obi-Wans shoulders relax a little at the sight of you, but he’s still tense and full of so, so many emotions. His mouth gaped slightly and his eyes ran wilding over your frame, similar clothing to his as you’ve been hiding for a while. It’s strange, he thinks, seeing you in something other than brightly colored dresses and intricate hairstyles. Maybe he’s finally started to hallucinate. Softly, your name leaves his lips, “what happened, what are you doing here?”

A nasty, rundown bar on some far outer planet that a princess shouldn’t be seen in. Of course, his image of you would be frozen from that time 10 or so years ago, you want to scoff and mock him for his overprotecting nature. Is that appropriate? To fall back into that banter even after not seeing someone for over a decade after a horribly traumatic event? Who cares, you’ve never been good at reading the room, and Obi-Wan knows this.

“What? Think I can’t defend myself?” Smirking, your arms cross and you see the flash of surprise in his irises at your response, 

“No, just-“ he grimaces, and the words die in his throat, grabbing your forearm and pulling you close. It shocks you and you smell the sandalwood and citrus in him, he still smells the same and it makes you want to smile from ear to ear. “Never mind, but please, don’t use that name around close ears.”

Oh, you forget he’s probably at the top of The Most Wanted Jedi List that keeps floating around, you only bring a small diplomatic figure left you farther down on the list. Though you’re frequent outspoken nature probably left you higher than most princesses. 

Taking your seat next to Obi-wan, he’s just looking at you and desperately holding that serious look in his eyes that makes his eyebrows furrow slightly. He ever so slightly looks like he might cry, it almost breaks you if he didn’t show a small and almost relieved smile. Obi-wan can’t hold his emotions back anymore, not in front of you, especially after so long. 

“Maker, I thought you were dead.” Obi-wan sighs, surprising you with a sudden embrace. His arms wrap around you and it takes you no longer than a millisecond to grasp onto him. He feels the same against you, his hands look more tough and aged but still soft. Obi-wan pulls away, still looking deeply into you, shaking his head in embarrassment still wearing a smile. When’s the last time he’s actually smiled? “Sorry, princess. I just haven’t seen a friend in so long.”

You click your tongue, “Not a princess anymore, not even a queen nowadays.” 

Just as you see Obi-wan's face drop in surprise and confusion, the barkeep grumbles a quick, “Can I get you anything?”

Obi-wan tenses immediately and goes back to his usual (usual for the past 10 years, not your usual) stance. You glance at him once more and ask for a drink, Obi-wan stays quiet and reserved away, and the barkeep barely notices him. The blue-ish liquor practically appears in front of you and with it, the barkeeps disappear and Obi-wan starts in a hushed tone.

“Did the galactic empire come after your planet as well?” Worry laced his tone, still painfully aware this conversation could definitely get the two of you in deep trouble. Leaned in close to you with a hot, quiet whisper.

You sigh, bringing the drink to your lips before preparing your explanation. “Yes and no,” you sway your head from side to side, and you watch as Obi-Wan confusion grows more relevant. 

“My husband,” Obi-Wans face flashes with disgust at the mention of the man that halfway tore you away from him, you didn’t like him either, especially now. “He found out about my intentions to rebel against the empire, before I could even propose my plans to my board, he reported me and I fled.” 

You hear Obi-wan curse the man out under his breath, you smile at his hushed threats. You never liked the man, even before he had ratted you out and before you were forced to marry him for the crown. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you, sincerely.” Obi-Wan’s eyes pierce through you, you could melt. “How long? Have you been adjusting?”

“Last 6 years, my sneaky pilots' lesson as a princess paid off. I fixed up a small ship and I’ve been roaming around the outer planets looking… for anything.” With a beat of silence, your eyes meet and you can practically feel Obi-wan’s force presence course through you. It’s overwhelming and warms your chest, anxiety still fills your throat as you attempt to speak. Smiling, “Fortunately, I found you.”

“Fortunately,” Obi-wan repeats, still in a hushed tone. As if it’s been his permanent state of being all these years, it wouldn’t be surprising. “I’m not so sure.”

Your frown, “Why’s that?”

A pained sigh leaves him and with it all the years of sorrow and loneliness fall onto your shoulders, you feel his burdens. “I’m not the same man I was before, I’ve failed everyone and without the Jedi order, I’m unsure where I’m supposed to go now.” 

You reach out to him, you understand. Everyone’s lives changed for the worst after that day, you wished desperately to be there for Obi-wan and Padme before she passed but you had otherly planet duties (read: forced fleeing by the hands of your husband.) it’s been your deepest regret that you didn’t find a way out sooner and go to him. Obi-wan has always been the light that keeps you up and you being his rock, you should’ve been there. 

Should’ve you been there, then maybe this depressed and sorrow-filled man who wears his burdens heavy on his shoulder may seem not lovely. And no a broken shell of a man you missed.

“You haven’t failed me, Kenobi.” You whisper, leaning in a bit closer.  “When have you ever failed me?”

“When your poor excuse of a husband whisked you away against your will! And I could do nothing except stand there!” Obi-wan’s voice raised up, his grasp grips tightly at the counter edge.

Despite how faded your memory was of those years of your life, you wake at night remembering that day. Obi-wan’s face as he saw the ring and realized you were soon to be married. The cheeky glances in the halls came to an end and you would not stay on Coruscant anymore. Obi-wan might have been in love, but he wasn’t stupid then. He knew even when he was falling for you through walks in the garden and late-night talks over tea, he knew you weren’t his and you never could be. Even before arranged marriages, the Jedi order had been his only way of life, despite how much he desperately wanted to, he would not quit that life after all he’s worked for.

Gently, your gloved hand falls on top of his, wishing for more of the warmth and contact. “He’s not my husband anymore, I’m a free woman.”

Obi-wan wants to scoff at the thought of you being free, what a joke. But that wasn’t his fault, nothing he could do alone would have stopped the empire that day. Expect maybe be a better mentor.

A sudden tense feeling falls upon the two of you, silence as you realize something. All those restrictions, rules, and impossibilities. They were all gone, and now you were not sure what to do despite how obvious the answer was. Obi-wan’s breath catches in his breath, you practically choke on it.

“Obi,” you whisper just so he would barely hear, “do you think,” he turns to you and his eyes are so fucking blue, you almost back out. Hand still grasping onto his, maybe a little harder now as you brace yourself. “Do you think even in this situation, we could try again?”

On instinct, from installing into his brain for so many years to just stay at arm's length, “No, I cannot. The Jedi-“

“The Jedi order is dead.” You cut him off, “You know it, I know it.” You take a deep breath, “Just love me.”

To think you’d be confessing this in a grimy bar whilst running from Darth Vader was insane to you, never would you have thought. Obi-wan says your name again, a meer whisper and you are suddenly in your 20s again dancing around the idea of kissing him in the secluded places of the palace. You don’t need to do this silly dance anymore, you are a free woman.

“Please, obi-wan.”

The shackles of codes and order release, his shoulder fell relaxed, and maybe he would kiss you - if it weren’t for the scenery. No, no, Kenobi would do this right. 

“I have a place here, come back with me?” He offers a small smile, a real smile.

You just nod and Obi-wan places his hand firmly in yours and you leave together. Just like you should have done all those years ago.