#this is not what the future was supposed to hold

[babymorte]

𝖉𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊, 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖞

[vifilms]

divine intervention, a higher power, some type of god looking above us threatening to crush human kind with an obedient hand — it’s what you think of as violet brushes her teeth in front of your bathroom sink— the mirror showcasing her god-esque reflection. flourished by love, renewed by white roses and promise, renewal of optimistic promise floods her with every look she throws your way.

cursed by perfection by the gods who created us. the muscles of her back contract with each slight of movement, the black ink mesmerizes your line of vision, she quickly catches your eye as you step out of the shower, body glistens from steam, droplets falling on the blindingly white marble floors.

easily, you ditch the towel hanging on the metal hook before stalking violet as if she's the prey you desperately need to sink your teeth into.

“we’re supposed to be leaving soon.” but violet doesn’t believe it, not when you’re giving her that in-disposable gaze, eyes saturated with lost as the need revives within you like gasoline on raging fire.

bare as the day you were born, you hop onto the counter top, vi spits the remainder of toothpaste coating her breath minty fresh. “or we could not.”

carefully, spreading your legs open for her, vi groans, not caring when her towel loses it’s hold around her waist, exposing the pink bush coming from her the muscular v-shaped line, leading you into what you’re craving most.

“we’re already gonna be late as it is. this isn’t helping, princess.”

“but all i wanna do is help.” you pout, feigning concern as vi slids herself between your legs and just like that she’s caught in your venus fly trap.

“baby, that’s nice but, ahhh—”

fingers she should have been prepared for glide over her slick pussy, your digits gathering the golden honey wealth, coating your skin thicker with each stroke.

“shit, you shouldn’t, we have to—”

“what? go? or come?” vi curses at herself before she drops her damn strands of pink against your shoulder, whimpering as you slide two fingers inside her soft walls, “two every different things, violet. i’ll give you a third option, yeah? how does me staying inside work? is that good for you, baby?”

“yeahhh, you know it is.” violet crumbles, hips bucking forward as she reaches down, playing with her clit as your fingers make home in her soaked pussy as she falls under your spell. each slight of your hand is a hex to her psyche, a reminder of what belongs to you, what only you can do.

what only you can make her feel.

“you’re just too pretty to not to fuck, baby. do you know that? how much i adore you, how much i treasure you — that i would do anything to make my babygirl happy?”

the words feel like a symphony to violet, her clit throbbing intensely as you flick her hand away, circling dramatic circles against the the pearly bundle of nerves. the tables have shifted, you have her right where you so damn well please, and violet submits to you with all the love her heart possess.

a tidal wave of reassurance coats her skin as the comfort of your wave wraps her up, as soothing as a warm blanket on a frosty night. the ice within her is gone and all she feels is warm, saturated heat. violet sobs into your neck as you fuck her through the impossible high, powder-blue eyes sob find a flood within them and the dam releases when you tell her much you love her. pussy and heart in harmony as affirmations of love are whispered in her ear, all else is forgotten.

it's all it takes for two infinitely promised lovers to melt for the other, transcending anything full of purpose, a pair of futures blending into an uncontrollable tsuamni of unknowns, trapped in the iron fist of nothing more than reduced to a blinding heat until a trail is discovered, a soulmates path to intertwined perfection.

violet's stuck and begging for more as she rides out each thrust of your fingers, a cracked shred of her whimpers echo throughout the walls. for a moment, you wonder if it's phantom, a moment plucked from your imagination but the skin of her inner thigh feels softer than her calloused hands. it's welcoming each graze of your blunt fingertip, begging for more of whatever she's willing to give.

almost as if your knees bend at the pew in a cathedral, she pleads for mercy, sharp teeth marking your shoulder with territorial need. then, violet falls. every sturdy and strong muscles becomes limp, blindful trust full of passionate love surrounds her heart until she has nothing else to give. this is all she's ever wanted.

to be truly yours.

[catchastarorten]

—Hey, brother.

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x Hwang Jun-ho x sister!reader

Summary: after your father went through a second marriage, there was suddenly a new brother in your life, Jun-ho. While In-ho gave up so much of himself to save the ones he loved, like Jun-ho, you couldn’t help the one that In-ho loved the most, his wife. In-ho disappeared after that, but you couldn’t give up searching for him.

Warnings: angst, use of y/n, grief/loss, guilt/self-blame, mentions of illness, mentions of death, mentions of organ donation, if you watched the show you should be fine, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.6k

The air in the house always felt heavy when you thought about In-ho. But It wasn’t always like that. You used to laugh here. You used to sit around the dinner table, teasing Jun-ho about his crushes or arguing over who’d do the dishes. Back then, your family had found ways to stay intact despite all its flaws. You, In-ho, and Jun-ho were bound by something stronger than blood.

But things had changed. They had fractured slowly, piece by piece, until you were left holding jagged shards of what once was.

You still remember when your father remarried. You were young, barely old enough to understand what it meant to have a “stepmother” and a “stepbrother.” Jun-ho had come into your life like a soft, hesitant breeze, unsure of his place. You’d been unsure too, unsure if you were supposed to treat him like a stranger or a brother. But then one day, he got sick—a fever so high you thought he might burn away entirely.

In-ho didn’t hesitate. He had been younger back then, but he was the oldest of the three of you, the protector, the one who had to shoulder responsibility, he thought.

He gave one of his kidneys to Jun-ho to save him. You found out later when your stepmother sobbed into his shoulder, thanking him over and over again.

“I’m just doing what needs to be done,” he had said quietly, as if it were no big deal. But to you, it was everything. In-ho was your hero, the glue that held your world together.

In-ho gave away a piece of himself so your stepbrother could live. It had been an act of selflessness that cemented something unspoken between the three of you: you were family, no matter the circumstances.

Things were good for a while after that. The three of you had your arguments, your moments of distance, but there was love. You and Jun-ho grew closer, and there was always this warmth when he smiled at you, it felt like he had been there your whole life—his little sister.

In-ho watched over the both of you with the quiet patience of someone who had put it on himself to take on too much responsibility, as if he was you and Jun-ho’s guardian, you two always teased him about it.

And then, In-ho met her. The love of his life. She was sweet, with a laugh that filled any room she entered. You adored her immediately. You still remembered the way she blushed when she first came over, how In-ho’s eyes softened whenever she spoke. He was happier than you’d ever seen him, and it made your heart swell.

When they got married, it felt like a new chapter. They talked about building a family, about all the dreams they had for the future. For once, things seemed solid.

But life wasn’t kind. Not to you, not to your family, and certainly not to In-ho.

When she got sick, it was like a storm cloud had settled over everything. You could see it in the way In-ho’s hands trembled when he thought no one was looking, in the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights spent worrying.

You wanted to help. You needed to help. Watching him crumble under the weight of helplessness was unbearable. Selling a kidney seemed like the only logical choice, right? Then you could get the money and pay for the treatment that would save her. It wasn’t a question of whether or not you should do it… it was a question of when.

But Jun-ho stopped you.

“Y/n, no.” he had said, grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head, his voice low with concern. “You can’t do this.”

“She’s dying, Jun-ho,” you shot back, your voice breaking. “And they’re having a baby. How can you just stand there and—”

“We’ll find the money another way,” he interrupted, his voice firm but filled with desperation. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this.”

You didn’t want to listen. You wanted to storm out, to prove that you could save her, that you could do something. You had slipped away one night, signed the papers yourself, you were a grown adult who could make your own decisions, and you decided that you weren’t going to let the one good thing in In-ho’s life leave just like that. But before you could, before the surgery could start, it was too late.

She passed away, along with the baby in her stomach.

The day she died, the house felt emptier than ever. In-ho didn’t say a word. He just sat there, staring at nothing, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. You didn’t know what to say to him. No one did. Your stepmother tried, but he brushed her off. Jun-ho tried, but In-ho wouldn’t even look at him.

You tried.

“In-ho, I’m so sorry,” you whispered one night, standing in the doorway to his room.

He didn’t answer.

“I should’ve done more,” you said, your voice trembling. “I could’ve—”

“Stop.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. He turned to look at you, his eyes hollow. “It’s over. She’s gone.”

The bitterness in his voice stung, and you didn’t know if it was directed at you, at himself, or at the world. You wanted to say something, anything, to bring him back to you. But the words wouldn’t come.

In-ho disappeared a week later.

You woke up to find his room empty, his things still scattered where he’d left them. There was no note, no explanation, just an aching void where he used to be.

Panic set in immediately. You called his friends, the hospitals, anyone who might’ve seen him. But no one had.

Days turned into weeks, and the silence stretched on, suffocating. You blamed yourself. You replayed every moment in your head, searching for where you had gone wrong.

“If I’d just gone through with it,” you told Jun-ho one night, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I’d just been a little faster, she might still be here. He might still be here.”

Jun-ho didn’t say anything at first. He just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly like he could keep you from shattering completely. His hand stroked your back, his fingers threading through your hair as he whispered, “It’s not your fault, y/n. None of this is your fault.”

But the guilt didn’t go away. It clung to you, a constant reminder of what you hadn’t done.

You started dreaming about In-ho. In your dreams, he was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners like they used to. You were kids again, running through the park near your old house, your laughter echoing into the night.

“Do you think we’ll always be like this?” you asked him in one dream, just like you had when you were younger.

“Like what?” he replied, his voice soft and warm.

“Together.”

He didn’t answer this time. He just smiled that bittersweet smile of his and walked away, leaving you alone.

You always woke up out of breath after those dreams, your eyes welled up in tears but they never fell, the ache in your chest sharper than ever.

Jun-ho tried to keep you grounded. He was your anchor, the only thing keeping you from spiraling completely. He spent hours searching for In-ho with you, combing through any lead, no matter how small.

“We’ll find him,” he said one night as you sat together on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.

“What if we don’t?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“We will,” he insisted, his tone firm. “He’s out there. And when we find him, we’ll bring him home.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that In-ho was somewhere, waiting for you to find him. But as the days turned into months, hope became harder to hold onto.

The memories were what kept you going. You held onto them like lifelines, replaying every moment you’d shared with In-ho.

You remembered the time he taught you how to ride a bike, running alongside you and laughing as you wobbled down the street.

“You’re doing it!” he’d shouted, his voice full of pride. “Don’t stop!”

You remembered how he used to sneak you extra snacks when your father wasn’t looking, smiling at you as he handed them over.

You remembered the way he’d held you when you cried after your first heartbreak, whispering that anyone who didn’t see how amazing you were wasn’t worth your tears.

Those memories were all you had left of him now. And no matter how much it hurt, you clung to them.

One night, you sat in In-ho’s old room, running your fingers over the things he’d left behind. A worn-out baseball glove. A stack of books he’d never finished reading. A photograph of the three of you, taken on a rare day when everything felt right.

“I miss you,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Please come back.”

The silence was deafening.

You didn’t stop looking for him. Even when the hope felt too small to hold, even when Jun-ho begged you to take a break, you kept searching. Because In-ho was your brother. He was the one who had always been there for you, who had given so much of himself to protect the people he loved, but you couldn’t give a piece of yourself to save what he loved the most, and you blamed yourself every day for that.

But still, you couldn’t give up on him. Not now.

[coffeebanana]

cw: character death, grief/mourning

sometimes i think about alya and adrien running into each other years after marinette dies

adrien fled paris after the funeral; the city has too many memories. he moves to london, where he haunts feligami's spare room--because he doesn't trust himself to be alone. and of course he never moves on

most days, even though he can't stop thinking about marinette, he can't bear to talk about her--he feels like he's taking up too much space. that nobody cares to listen and that he's supposed to be over this by now. but he can't really imagine a future for himself anymore--not one that means anything to him

alya stayed in paris, but she couldn't move on either. she couldn't let go, couldn't stop thinking about how things might be different--how maybe she could have saved her best friend. she reaches marinette levels of obsessive over the whole thing, and god, the irony of that isn't lost on her

the topic even comes between her and nino--not because he doesn't make space for her grief--he would hear her out a thousand times over--but because alya stops sharing her feelings. nino just doesn't get it. which isn't his fault, and god alya feels guilty about holding it against him. but eventually she can't do it anymore. she's not the same person anymore. she ends things with nino and accepts a job in london

alya and adrien run into each other by accident, and adrien can barely breathe. he wants to flee, wants to pretend he doesn't recognize alya. because he can't do this. he can't handle this conversation where loss is the subtext of every petering sentence and every awkward brush of eye contact. he can't be faced with this living, breathing reminder of all things marinette

but alya can't let him go. she gives him her number, makes him promise to meet up with her. and she tells herself it's what marinette would want her to do. what nino would want, too. they'd want her to make sure adrien's okay, and it's not like alya doesn't want that too. but it's not the real reason she's so desperate to see him. it's not the real reason she feels like she finally can breathe for the first time in years

they meet for a drink. and of course it's painful at first, seeing the one other person alive who understands their loss. but it's also the one person who they can be honest with. they talk about marinette, obviously--how she made them laugh, what they miss most about her. even how she frustrated them sometimes. they talk about their guilt and their anger at the world. they share the memories they hold dearest and the ones they never got to make

in a way, it's like finally getting closure

of course they meet up again. and again and again, until it's a regular thing. until it's not about marinette every time, or even most of the time. because god, they make each other laugh. they have silly inside jokes and ridiculous adventures and a depth of understanding that they can't put into words

for adrien, falling for alya is something gradual. she's a brilliant, beautiful force of nature, how could he not fall for her? he can see it coming from a hundred miles away, and even if it terrifies him, he knows he'll take the leap. he knows marinette would want him too, even--and he prays that nino will understand, even though nino might not want to talk to him anyways, given the years adrien's been silent on him

meanwhile, alya's feelings hit her like a punch to the gut. because she never really got it--what marinette saw in adrien. like, sure, he was always a good guy. he was smart and kind and obviously easy on the eyes. but honestly, he'd never seemed like anything special. she hadn't known he could make her laugh so hard she snorted soda out her nose, or what he was like when he got mad--holding things in until they burst out of him, then yanking them all back like he was afraid he'd push her away. she never knew what it felt like to be the object of his unwavering confidence, or that that ridiculous doe-eyed look he had could feel so genuine

i just think their shared grief could help each other not only to heal, but to grow. i think it could be neat

[always-and-forever-alone]

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Worrying

Remus lupin x gn!reader

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Summary:[reader gets a vision that someone is getting hurt in the whomping willow; they decide that they can't just let someone be hurt so they go to help, only it turns out they are the ones that will be hurt]

TW: [reader gets slightly hurt, blood, slow burn kinda, angst, happy ending, reader is a seer/can see the future, I have dyslexia]

Note: [this was supposed to be a blurb... tell me if i misspelled something or got something wrong]

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Sleep does not come easy, you toss and turn. Thinking of ways to fall asleep faster, but to no avail. Something feels wrong like you are missing something you should know.

Somehow, you fall asleep, but your dream is unsettling; your mind leads you through grass, the night sky is clear, and you make out the whomping willow. The air is cold and uninviting. Something horrible is in the air. Fear of one's self, guilt without strong reason. But has this person that feels, done anything wrong? It's unclear

In the tree, the vision goes. A blurred site, barely making out a man, in pain, screaming. So much weight in the scream, not just physical pain. It's sure to never leave the head of whoever hears it, and unfortunately, the head is yours. It echoes, will it end?

There's more, though, an unidentifiable amount of people are near, feeling sad as if they are losing something or maybe someone. They know this is temporary, but it hurts to see. But what are they seeing? The people changed, but not like the one that screamed. The unwillingness of one is guided by the willingness of some.

The vision weakens as the connection starts to stop; the vision of what the night is to hold slowly leaves.

A piercing scream wakes you. Your eyes snap open. You look around at your dorm mates, all perfectly asleep. This makes you think that there was no scream. But it was so reel feeling. It was kind of hard to depict what dreams were real or just that, a dream. It was so much easier in the day because you can't dream well awake and not be in control.

You look at the time around 4:20 a.m. You try to find reasons you should investigate. You've already lost sleep; what could it hurt? It'd put you at ease when you see that nothing is wrong because surely nothing is wrong. Right?

Getting out of your bed, you grab a jacket and a poison of healing, for if someone is hurt, you will help. You disillusion yourself, quietly creeping down the hall. The paintings are asleep, and you have yet to run into a perfect. The walk seems unusually long, although maybe because you want answers.

Pushing open one of, many doors, open, you slip out into the darkness. The moon provided enough light to see where you were going. Even with a jacket the air was so cold, it was weird connecting that it wasn't winter.

Approaching the whomping willow, you look for a way in. But it's too late. The tree is already swinging at you. You jump out of the way. Running when you see an opening. Without too much though, you go through it.

You hear scratching as if a mouse was running by. A little grossed out by the thought of unkempt animals living here you move forward. The same way the vision went.

Nearing a door, you tentatively push it back. Slowly exposing whatever was inside. But with a sharp bang, the door shut; there was so much force you stumbled back. Making a move to not fall down the stairs you just climbed, and pulling yourself to the boor again, something or someone had been thrown to the boor. There's no way someone didn't get hurt. So wanting to help you move closer to the door.

This time you open the door quickly, sliding inside. You feel like you should be scared right now, but for some reason, it feels so right for you to be here. Although the scene in front of you did scare you. A dog, mouse, deer, and, for Merlin's sake, a werewolf were right in front of you. The mouse makes some sense, but never had you seen a dog in Hogwarts, and maybe a deer, but how did it get in? And a werewolf!

It smells you instantly, no longer interested in whatever was happening before it slowly stocks towards you. The deer threw it by its antlers, but the werewolf was back on its feet fast. The dog started barking as the mouse jumped on its eyes, trying to temporarily blind it. And all I could do was stand there, my face going pale.

With one move, it jumped towards me, the mouse falling with a light thud; you were sure your body was going to follow. But the werewolf barely graced your cheek. Confused, you opened your eyes; the werewolf was changing back; the sun peaked through the wood. Shocked, you see your good friend Remus. As the others in the room misinterpreted your reaction, all you could feel was concern for your friend.

And like that you fainted.

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You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Confusion fills you as you try to piece together your situation. You're in the hospital wing. Memories begin to resurface. You recall the vision, the chaos with the whomping willow, and the fact that Remus is a werewolf.

Seeing Sirius and James, there helping up Remus, and Peter is carrying what I assume is Remus's stuff. You quickly stand up and move toward them. You feel like you need to apologize for putting Remus in that situation. But James starts guiding him away, James signals for Sirius to talk to you. With Sirius now standing in your way. You call Remus's name but he just puts his head down and keeps moving forward a little faster now.

"Look, you can't tell anyone, I'm sorry you got hurt. But it's not his fault, he isn't him when he's like that." Sirius says, a little mad as if you've already told. You move your hand to your cheek after he mentions you being hurt. It's gone, leaving what feels like a scar "Of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. Why would I even do that? It's not my life," Sirius looks at you for a moment and seems to relax, but not much.

With that, he starts walking off. "Wait! Can I talk with him," you reach for his hand, he slips it out before you can reach it. "It's best if you don't; Remus doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone like you," he starts moving away, "What does that mean?" But he doesn't stop, leaving you behind.

Miss Pomfrey, now realizing you are awake walks over to you. "Dear, do you feel good enough to leave. Evening is healed. You fainted from shock" I look at her and nod. "Ok dear"

You get your stuff and leave; what will you tell people when they ask about the scar? Probably something about being clumsy.

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For the next two weeks, you tried talking to Remus, even sending him letters. He got them but was so ashamed of himself and feeling like a monster he didn't read them. Sirius told him that you were not going to tell, but Sirius didn't say much else; he offered that I should talk to you, but what if you hate me? Even when he reassures me that you don't hate me. How would he know?

I didn't throw away the letters, though; they just kept piling up on my bedside table.

Sirius and James said that if I don't want to talk to you then they'll support it, but I know they want me to talk to you. How could I, I hurt you.

You had tried many ways to get a chance to talk to Remus, but someone you were once close with was now ignoring you. While you weren't friends with the other Marauders, you hoped that one day you would be. It felt as though they hated you. What could you do...

Your other friends started to notice that something was wrong; you seemed a little more gloomy and often stared off into space, lost in deep thought. When you weren't doing that, you were writing. Normally, they would assume it was schoolwork, but you had such a pained expression on your face.

It was only when they saw the marauders looking out at you, or more like just Remus. At first, maybe it was an accident or just so happened to be where his eyes landed, but then a second and a third, and a fourth time. He had the same look as you. Guilt. There was something there.

One evening, your friends had dragged you down to dinner; you stared at your food, picking at it, but not eating it. You heard a sigh; looking up, you saw a disappointed friend. You're disappointed friend. "You know food is for eating, not for playing with," she finally says. You are about to reply when it hits you: a brilliant idea. You gasp, "what day Is it" you ask looking to see if You can see it anywhere.

"Are you alright?" concern replacing the disappointment, "no im not, what day is it!" You ask, packing your things, your friend answers hesitantly. Just like you thought, it was the full moon.

You run to your room, get ready, grab some food and a good book, and then sneak to the hostel wing. He'll have no choice but to see you there when he gets back in the morning. So there you were in the hospital wing. Madam Pamfry doesn't try to get you to leave; she could tell you need to be here more than sleep. So you waited, you had grabbed a book to read but you were far to nervous now.

Just 20 minutes after sunrise, Remus was pulled into the hospital wing. The boys were too busy to see you; madam told them to leave so she could treat him. When she was done you quickly went over to him, hidden by the curtains, you asked Madame Pamfry to make sure the boys wouldn't introduced and then thanked her.

Just as she left, Remus started to wake. He seemed so peaceful for a second. Before realizing why he was there and what he was. And then he saw you. "We need to talk," you whisper. "Yeah," he mutters. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he also says 'I'm sorry' which is why you stop; we both look up, and you smile lightly, but he does not. With a sigh he says "You go first" You nod your smile falling, I start, "I'm sorry I put you in that position, and I'm sorry I messed up our relationship, and I get if you no longer want to be friends, this will be my last attempt to talk to you If you wish I'll leave" and somehow he looks even more hurt.

"No. Of course, I still want to be your friend, I thought... I thought you hated me and considered me a monster." You can't help but laugh at the exhaustion you could not have gone through if this had just not happened. "Well, now we know that we're both wrong," you add. "Never thought I'd be happy about being wrong." he smiles this time; you agree.

"I was worried," you say, getting it off your chest. "You were?" He asked, surprised, "Yeah".

"This is going to make everything so much more complicated, but can I kiss you?" Completely caught off guard, you look up into his eyes and then quickly glance down at the ground. "Yes," you whisper. He reaches out and pulls you in; his lips are soft and hesitant, but you can feel him smile into the kiss. Behind you, you hear Sirius say, "Finally."

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Hoped you liked it :>

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Romantic Ending Ch. 23

Chapter 22

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

The death of the God of Tanzanite is an inevitable end that will eventually come—

The God, in his mercy, offers his life to the future so that the divination-dependent people can live on their own feet.

I respect the last God of the continent.

But my heart couldn't keep up.

What did the God think of me, who felt this way?

Emma: Wh... What are you doing?

Just a few seconds ago, I was desperately trying to hold back tears, but now, as Prince Azel stood up from his chair and embraced me, confusion overwhelmed my mind.

My blurred vision melted into his warmth, and when I tried to pull away, he put his arm around my head.

Azel: I couldn't bear to see your unsightly face.

Emma: ...This is where you're supposed to say, "Cry as much as you want in my arms."

Azel: I would never say something so disgusting.

(His words are harsh, but his touch is gentle.)

He gently stroked my head as if to comfort me.

Whether it was unconscious or intentional, either way, the God was always sinful.

(I wish Prince Azel's true nature was a wicked God, corrupted to the core by evil.)

His compassion became a poison, stinging my eyes and bringing a heat to them.

Emma: Prince Azel... I think I'm going to cry after all.

Azel: Don't cry, it's troublesome.

Azel: Besides, you can't persuade me if you're crying, can you?

Emma: ...Persuasion... I can't do it anymore.

(I can't think of anything else to say.)

(I can't think... so...)

Taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see my face, I stopped holding back my tears.

Azel: I thought you'd be more persistent.

Emma: Did you... want me to be?

Azel: No? It's just, a good person like you wouldn't be able to accept someone's death, right?

Azel: Especially Belle, known for her beautiful heart.

Emma: ...If I were to stop you, I would need a good reason to do so.

Emma: "You have to cherish your life"... that's not a reason that applies to everyone.

(Even if I brandish my morals and ethics here, it would ultimately be self-righteous of me.)

(I can't reach Prince Azel's lofty perspective.)

Emma: To Prince Azel, who is worried about the future of the illusory country and trying to start a revolution...

Emma: No matter how hard I rack my brain, all I have are personal feelings.

(I can't find the words to reach someone who carries out their plan with such conviction.)

(...Even though we spent time together, it was ultimately short, and the fact that I'm an outsider remains unchanged.)

Emma: Because I can only say selfish things...

Emma: ...I have no choice... but to cry.

(My voice... is trembling.)

Even though I clutched Prince Azel's clothes as if to vent my emotions, he didn't shake me off.

Azel: Will you feel better if you cry?

Emma: ...It might be a temporary relief.

Azel: Then I'll allow it.

Emma: You said I shouldn't cry earlier...

Azel: Just cry before you babble on, cry now!

(Is this... also mercy?)

Prince Azel continued to stroke my hair.

His touch, which felt almost affectionate, and the gentleness of his heartbeat that reached my ears finally broke the dam of my tears.

Biting my lip to keep from crying out loud, I pressed my trembling body against Prince Azel's.

(After I cry my heart out, I have to make a choice.)

(Whether to part ways with Prince Azel like this, or...)

Either way, it would be a painful choice, and I choked back my sobs.

As I sobbed like a child, an out-of-place laughter fell upon me.

Emma: Wh... Why... are you... laughing?

Azel: Excuse me. I didn't expect you to cry this much.

Azel: You haven't been living your life relying on God, have you?

Azel: You don't have to worry about your future tomorrow because of God's death.

Azel: I was wondering why you're sobbing so much...

Azel: Did you like being a slave that much?

Emma: Not a slave... a shrine maiden (*priestess)...

Azel: It's the same in that you're being used by me.

Azel: I've used you, but I've never given you anything in return, have I?

Emma: ...Thinking about it calmly... that's true...

(Starting with being tricked into debt with swindler-like tactics...)

(Being used as a shield to avoid women, and because of that, falling victim to an aphrodisiac.)

(Being forced to cook as labor for debt repayment, and there was also that harsh errand of going back and forth between the city...)

Emma: I've been... used... and abandoned... by Prince Azel... so many times.

But strangely, I don't feel bad about it, because it was fun.

The God never truly treated me as a "slave."

When I was affected by the aphrodisiac, he cared for me, when I was cold, he embraced me, and when I was tired, he cooked for me.

When I tried to sleep on the floor, he carried me to the bed, and when he wished for me to not come to the party, he reluctantly went with me.

Prince Azel is that kind of contrary person.

I liked his twisted kindness—I came to like it.

(He's deeply embedded in my heart, to the point that I'm crying this much, and in the end, we're parting ways with death...)

(I think... I deserve compensation...)

Emma: I want... the reward I haven't received...

Azel: Have you forgotten that your labor was for debt repayment?

Emma: The... wounds in my heart... will remain... forever.

Emma: It's to the extent that... I have to claim compensation exceeding my debt.

When I made a wicked claim, imitating the greedy, wicked God, he laughed again.

Azel: I'll listen if you want to ask.

Emma: Then...

I had been thinking while crying.

About how to spend the time until the moment Prince Azel dies—

Emma: Make me... a part of your plan.

Azel: .............

When I wiped my tears and looked up, Prince Azel was making a blatantly sullen face.

Azel: I couldn't hear you very well.

Emma: M-Make me... a part of it!

Azel: Oh dear, I can't hear you.

Emma: Liar!

Azel: I don't remember saying I'd listen to anything.

Azel: Besides, are you stupid?

Azel: Being a part of it means you have to witness my death.

Prince Azel roughly wiped my wet cheeks with his sleeve.

Azel: There's no way a woman who's sobbing like this could do such a thing.

Emma: ...I... don't think I can either...

Emma: But I want a reason to witness it.

Emma: A reason for me to accept Prince Azel's death without running away.

(My heart refuses to accept the fact that Prince Azel will be gone.)

(This is something I can't do anything about, so at least I want a trigger to face it.)

(Instead of running away, I want to witness Prince Azel's great achievement... and...)

(I want to be with him for as long as possible.)

Azel: Are you serious?

Emma: ...I wouldn't joke about something like this.

I peered into his mystical eyes, filled with stars, to convey my feelings.

I must look unsightly, reflected in those beautiful eyes.

Prince Azel still had a sullen expression on his face, but...

As we gazed at each other, he gradually brought his face closer and placed his lips on my forehead.

(!?)

Azel: Ah, my mistake.

Emma: Th... That's not something you do by mistake!?

Azel: I just misjudged the distance, don't make a fuss, don't yell.

(What was that kiss!?)

The God averted his eyes awkwardly.

My heart screamed in agony at having been subjected to another sin at this juncture.

(...From now on, I'll call you the "suggestive God" instead of the "wicked God.")

Azel: There is one simple task that anyone can do... or maybe not.

(...)

Emma: I'll do it.

Azel: Don't you want to hear what it is?

Emma: I'm not considering refusing any task.

Emma: But if possible...

Emma: I hope it's something that will allow me to be with Prince Azel until the very end.

Azel: –...It's because you're like that that you get hurt.

(.....?)

Prince Azel cleared his throat, let go of me, and turned his back.

Azel: The plan is tomorrow.

Azel: Since you said you'd do it, don't run away halfway.

(Tomorrow...)

(...Tomorrow is the day of the end.)

Emma: I'll do my best.

My voice trembled as I conveyed my determination.

-

Perhaps busy chasing after Kamal, who had been branded a sinner by the apostle, the people no longer visited the solitary desert castle.

Although there was a chance to return to the castle now, Prince Azel didn't drive me out, as I was reluctant to leave and remained in the temple.

Eventually, the sun set, and the giant moon that illuminated the illusory country rose in the sky.

The final night had arrived, whether I liked it or not.

Emma: Are you really alright?

Azel: Don't make me say it again.

Prince Azel, holding a kitchen knife, carefully chopped the vegetables.

Ideally, I would have wanted to do it, but with one arm unusable, I was helpless.

(His movements are stiff. He must be really scared.)

Emma: Even if we don't chop the vegetables like before and just put them whole in the pot...

Azel: It would make me cry if that was the last supper.

Azel: Besides, wouldn't it be hard to eat with your hand like that?

Emma: .....

Azel: ...Don't grin, the knife might slip and fly off.

Emma: You absolutely have to avoid that!?

(It's just like any other night. The only difference is that our roles are reversed.)

If I let my guard down, tears threaten to spill from my still swollen eyes.

(Something... I have to distract myself with something.)

Emma: Cooking is... tough, isn't it?

Azel: What are you talking about out of the blue?

Emma: No, I was just thinking that since Prince Azel is a God and a prince, it must have been tough for you at first...

Emma: How long have you been living here alone?

When I brought up a casual topic, Prince Azel, perhaps sensing my intention, let out a sigh of exasperation.

Azel: It's been about ten years.

Emma: You used to live in the castle before, right?

Azel: Yes. But one day, an incident happened.

Azel: ...A nightmarish incident where a large number of aphrodisiac-affected women came rushing in.

Emma: What kind of disturbing incident is that...?

Azel: Exactly as it sounds, that geezer orchestrated it, and a horde of women who had taken aphrodisiacs barged into my room.

Azel: They started taking off their clothes, moaning on their own... I don't know a hell worse than that.

(Wow... that's awful just to imagine.)

Azel: Even a gentle God like me snapped and started living here, practically running away from home. That's how it all began.

Emma: That's, well...

Emma: ...I can understand why you dislike women, Prince Azel.

Azel: I never said I disliked you, not even once—

Azel: Well, maybe I do dislike women, but it's frustrating, isn't it? It's like I've lost.

Emma: You're not fooling anyone.

Azel: Oh, the knife...

Emma: Don't let it slip!

I couldn't help but laugh at the suggestive God, formerly known as Prince Azel, who furrowed his brows in a sulky manner.

Emma: I'm glad I'm not hated.

Azel: Don't get cocky.

Emma: But you were the one who said it...

Azel: Well, still...

Azel: You might be the woman I've talked to the longest in my life.

Emma: ...That's...

(That's a record that will never be broken again.)

Emma: ...An honor.

-

The last supper was plentiful, as we aimed to use up all the ingredients remaining in the temple.

Since it couldn't all fit on the kitchen counter, we spread a beautiful cloth by the window in the room and arranged the dishes there, holding a feast while gazing at the moon.

It included the meatless, perfectly round croquettes I had made before, along with a dish of chickpeas mashed into a paste and flavored with cumin, bell peppers stuffed with minced meat and seasoned with spices from the desert country, and for the main course, Prince Azel's specialty tagine, made with steamed vegetables and meat.

I also used the vegetables Prince Azel had cut for me to prepare a pot-au-feu, a staple home-cooked dish in Rhodolite.

I even baked some simple langues de chat for dessert, making for a more extravagant menu than usual.

(It feels strange to have Rhodolite and Tanzanite cuisine lined up like this.)

I immediately reached for a croquette with my fork, but...

Emma: Ah...

Eating with only one hand was more difficult than I expected, and it tumbled onto my clothes.

Emma: I need more practice.

Azel: What are you talking about?

Before I could pick it up, a hand reached out, and the croquette disappeared into Prince Azel's mouth.

At the same time, the fork was taken from my hand, and he brought it to my lips with the croquette still skewered on it.

Azel: See, when something is offered to you, you're supposed to open your mouth, right?

*flashback*

Emma: In the world, this is called "aah."

Emma: When something is offered to you, you open your mouth.

Azel: ..............

*flashback over*

(...That time...)

Prince Azel, with a grumpy look on his face, forcefully pushed the croquette against my lips.

When I hesitantly opened my mouth, he mercilessly stuffed it in.

(...! ...It's big!)

Prince Azel intently watched as I desperately chewed and swallowed.

Azel: Your mouth is unexpectedly small.

(...He wasn't being mean, he really didn't know.)

With a nonchalant expression, he broke the croquette and offered a smaller piece in front of me.

Emma: Thank you. But then Prince Azel won't be able to eat.

Azel: I'll just eat normally later?

Emma: It'll get cold.

Azel: The taste won't change. Just eat it.

Emma: munch...

(This feeling of being unaccustomed to "aah," it makes me flustered.)

(...I wish this would last forever.)

Azel: Don't make Kamal and Prince Silvio go through the same trouble.

Emma: I wouldn't ask them to "aah" me. Normal people don't do that.

(Ah...)

Prince Azel's hand stopped at my careless slip of the tongue.

Azel: What was that thing we did before, then?

Emma: That was... well... the situation was unavoidable, so to speak...

Emma: "Aah" is originally something you only do with someone you're close to, but... ahaha... haha...

Azel: ...You tricked me.

Emma: I didn't trick you!?

Azel: No wonder there was no "aah" when you had dinner with Prince Silvio.

Emma: That would be horrifying—ow!

Even as he pinched my cheek in displeasure, Prince Azel didn't withdraw the fork.

Emma: What's wrong with it? We're close.

Azel: We're not close, we're complete strangers.

Emma: So you do this kind of thing with everyone, Prince Azel?

Azel: ......

Emma: ...Come to think of it, only Silvio is called "Prince," so in terms of closeness...

Emma: Ow, ow, I'm sorry!

Prince Azel, pulling my cheeks hard, turned away.

Azel: I only call Silvio "Prince" because he's my benefactor.

Emma: Eh... not because he's rich?

Azel: Of course, that's part of it, but...

(So it is part of it.)

Azel: I told you before that Kamal was exiled, right? I had no way to contact him.

Azel: But one day, Prince Silvio, who was visiting as a merchant, smuggled Kamal into the country in his cargo.

Azel: You usually have to undergo a cargo inspection at the port, but...

Azel: They can't thoroughly inspect the luggage brought by royalty from another country.

Azel: Taking advantage of that loophole, the exile was able to return to Tanzanite.

(I can't believe that happened...)

(That's why Prince Silvio wasn't surprised when he found out Kamal-san was a man.)

Azel: Once he returned, I could disguise him however I wanted...

Azel: But if it weren't for that merchant's quick thinking, I wouldn't have been reunited with Kamal even now.

Emma: ...So that's the reason for the "Prince."

(It seems he's not just greedy.)

Each time I learn something new, my impression of Prince Azel changes.

Azel: On the other hand, you've been so disrespectful that it's a waste to even call you "Miss."

Azel: Maybe I should just call you Emma from now on.

Emma: .......

Azel: ...What's with that subtle look on your face?

Emma: Nothing...

(...This person's obliviousness is truly terrifying...)

In general, being called by your first name indicates a closer relationship than using honorifics like "Prince" or "Miss," but...

I couldn't bring myself to say that.

-

The night passed by in a flash, and the end drew near.

Once the sun rose from the horizon tomorrow, this time would never return.

Whenever my mind relaxed, tears welled up, and I pressed them into my pillow as I shifted in bed.

Prince Azel was reading a book beside me, maintaining his usual composure despite it being the last day.

Emma: ...Aren't you scared?

Azel: Not at all?

Emma: I'm... scared.

Azel: I figured.

Emma: ...Shall we chat?

Azel: We've already talked enough.

Emma: There are tons of things I want to know about Prince Azel.

(...I don't want to sleep.)

(Just for today, I want to keep seeing this dream for as long as possible.)

Azel: For example?

Emma: ...Like why Prince Azel is so greedy.

Azel: There's no reason, money is necessary to live.

Emma: You said that before, didn't you?

*flashback*

Emma: Is the Living God that hard up for money?

Azel: I don't take money because I'm hard up.

Azel: I take money to live.

*flashback over*

Emma: But you're not in a position to be troubled by money, Prince Azel.

Azel: ...Certainly, if I wanted to, I could get any amount of living expenses from the national treasury.

Azel: But depending on someone else's money is the same as having your life and freedom in their hands.

Azel: It would defeat the purpose of escaping to the solitary desert castle.

(Now that he mentions it, that's true. He could be forced to accept women by being held hostage with money.)

Azel: To escape from that geezer, I needed to earn money on my own.

Azel: But God can't openly do business.

Emma: Why is that?

Azel: Because it would become an offering, not a business.

Azel: People desire God's protection. If that God says "I want money," they'll rush to offer it.

Azel: Tanzanite is a country with deep faith. It wouldn't be strange for someone to offer their entire fortune.

(...It was the God's way of making sure people's lives wouldn't be ruined.)

Azel: If I can't do business with the people of my own country, then I should turn my attention to people from other countries.

Azel: To earn money, I needed to invite many people from other countries.

(People from other countries...)

*flashback*

Silvio: ...It's been about ten years.

Silvio: Since Tanzanite started focusin' on tourism and became one of the best at attractin' visitors on the continent with its song and dance.

*flashback over*

Emma: Ah, could it be...

Emma: Did you start the tourism industry, Prince Azel?

Azel: You're sharp today, aren't you?

(I'm surprised...)

Emma: I thought it originated with Kumushu, the head of the tourism association...

Azel: I was the one giving instructions to that Kumushu.

Azel: I opened up the closed country, and gradually people from other countries started flowing in.

Azel: And, as you know, the richest man on the continent, drawn by the rumors, took the bait.

Emma: If Prince Silvio is your business partner, you won't have any trouble with money, will you?

Azel: Yes, he's still my biggest source of income.

Azel: Thanks to him, I've been able to invest in all sorts of things that the national budget couldn't afford.

(...Wait, so Prince Azel is actually a rich man disguised as someone poor...?)

Prince Azel closed his book and lay down.

He wasn't facing away from me as usual, but facing me.

Azel: By the way, don't you think it's unfair?

Emma: What is?

Azel: We've been talking about me this whole time, and you haven't said anything about yourself.

Emma: ...Are you perhaps interested in me—

Azel: I'm just tired of talking.

He pinched my cheeks.

I'm used to it now, and even this pain is dear to me.

(But when this night is over...)

(...! ...No, I still can't come to terms with it.)

Prince Azel must have noticed my teary eyes.

Azel: What kind of person are you, and how have you lived your life?

Emma: ...That's a long story.

Azel: I'm impressed that you've lived such a fulfilling life.

(I'll talk as much as you want. To keep this night from ending...)

But dreams don't last.

—The moon set, the sun rose, and the day of the end arrived.

.

.

.

Romantic Ending Ch. 23 Letter

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[kikyoupdates]

Crushed Velvet ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams?

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One way or another, you’d made it through the engagement announcement, but your life still showed no sign of quieting down.

Ever since word had gotten out that you were Xeno’s fiancée, nobles kept paying your family visits, no doubt hoping to amass favor with you as quickly as possible. Of course, you saw right through their fickle appearances, but you were still obligated to meet with them and pretend like you cared. It was simple politics of the court. You’d been a high-ranked noble all your life, but you still weren’t quite used to being the center of attention like this.

That would have been all well and good, but as was true of most nobility, there were always those who insisted on poking their noses where they didn’t belong.

A certain countess visiting you had said this:

“Oh, my dear. You must be thrilled to be engaged to the Crown Prince. The rumors that you were already seeing a man must have been false, then.”

You’d done a good job of keeping your cool, but on top of her blatant rudeness, it was clear that she was accusing you of having an illicit relationship. Rumors were just that—rumors. Nevertheless, you’d never had there be such lies circulating about you. And surprise, surprise, they’d started just as soon as you’d been revealed as the Prince’s future bride.

You remembered Annalisa’s bitter expression back at the palace a few days prior. She had clearly been boiling with envy. You couldn’t exactly blame her. She’d probably been convinced that she would secure this position for herself, and to suddenly have it torn out of her grasp must have come as a shock. You also didn’t want to jump to any baseless accusations, but it seemed like a fairly reasonable guess to assume that she was probably the one who’d started spreading the rumors.

If she really is, then that only makes me respect her even less.

Xeno had described her as “filthy”, but he hadn’t really explained what he hated about her so much. You were sure he must have had his reasons, though. Especially if she was willing to resort to petty propaganda like this.

“My goodness,” your mother sighed, wiping her brow off with a handkerchief. “It’s been terribly busy. I think we’re going to have to hold off on any more visitors for a while. There’s just been far too many of them.”

“I’ve gotten quite sick of them as well,” you muttered.

“Is something the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing too serious. Based on what some of the nobles have been saying, it’s sounds like someone’s been spreading some rumors about me seeing another man.”

She went silent for a few moments, then pursed her lips in contemplation. “Well, that’s to be expected. Many families are bound to be jealous. They were probably hoping to marry their own daughter off to the Prince. Don’t let these rumors get the best of you. We know it isn’t the truth, and without any proof of the matter, you’re untouchable.”

“Yes, I agree. I suppose I’m just a little annoyed.”

“Why don’t you pay a visit to the Temple?” she suggested. “Go pray, take your mind off things. It would be good to have a priest bless your engagement.”

“Hm. Maybe I will.”

It had been a while since you’d gone down to the Temple. Besides the monarchy, which was the main governing factor of the kingdom, the Holy Temple and the High Council were also consulted when it came to making large scale decisions. Ultimately, the crown still got the final word, but a great deal of power was entrusted to these other two organizations. All nobles were required by law to be approved by the Temple before being allowed to serve under the King. You couldn’t say that you were a very religious person by nature, but every now and then, it did feel nice to have a quiet, safe space where you could focus on your thoughts.

You were escorted just outside the Temple by a handful of servants, since you were apparently a “big” deal now, but they didn’t try to overstep and follow you inside. As always, you could feel the entire atmosphere shift the second you stepped into the building. Light still filtered in through the stained glass windows, but the Temple was always softly lit, even with the smattering of candles laid out all around. Being inside here always gave you a chill. There was some sort of strange energy that filled the walls, and it brought you an inexplicable sense of peace.

There were hardly any people at this time of day. Most came in to do their prayers first thing in the morning. Regardless, you weren’t playing on staying for long. Just a few minutes sitting in silence and clearing your head would be good enough.

You made your way around the pews, headed to the frontmost-facing row. Just as you were about to sit down, one of the doors by the altar swung open and a man stepped out.

“Oh. Lady [Name]?”

It was one of the priests, Mihael Veron. He was the youngest member of the clergy, and he was beloved by the people for his gentle smile and kind mannerisms. Even as far as practicing religious men went, he was practically a saint. He was distractingly handsome too, which you berated yourself for thinking every time you laid eyes on him. He’d been working as a priest for just about three years now, and needless to say, you’d developed a bit of a crush on him.

“Hello,” you smiled back, cheeks slightly warm. “It’s very nice to see you, Father Mihael. I feel like it’s been quite a while.”

He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “My, isn’t that because you’re constantly skipping out on your weekly sermons?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumbled guiltily.

“Ha-ha. I’m only kidding. Religion is a highly personal thing. Everyone has their own unique connection to God. You should only come to Temple whenever you feel comfortable doing so.”

“Yes, but still… I’ll try to be better about it.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Lady [Name]. I was hoping to see you soon, though, in order to congratulate you on your engagement.” He smiled warmly. “I’m sure you and your family must be very happy with this arrangement. Though I admit, I was a bit taken aback to hear about the announcement so last-minute.”

You fidgeted in place. “It’s, uh… a little difficult to explain. I don’t really understand it either, but it seems like the King and Queen must be really excited for their son to get married.”

“Well, of course they would be, when it’s with someone as lovely as you.”

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the burning sensation on your cheeks. His clear blue eyes were so piercing, yet calm and reassuring at the same time.

Maybe going to Temple more often wouldn’t be the worst idea.

“Lady [Name]?”

“Y-Yes?!” you squeaked, absolutely mortified by the thoughts currently running through your mind.

Mihael just let out a soft chuckle, looking more amused than anything else. “My apologies. You looked deep in thought, so you must not have heard me. I was just saying, if you’d like, you can light a candle and I’ll read a few passages aloud for you. It won’t be a full sermon, just a little something to bless your union and lead the both of you forth in good health.”  

“Oh, that would be perfect, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Here, follow me.”

He picked a fresh candle out of a basket and handed it to you, then gestured for you to light it and place it along with the other lit candles. You did so, and once you’d set it where it belonged, you slowly closed your eyes and allowed the sound of Mihael’s gentle voice to fill the room.

It was a peaceful feeling, perhaps even more so because Mihael was the one reading the passages. There was a reason he was so loved. Initially, the other clergymen had thought less of him because he was so young and inexperienced, but with time, they too had come to cherish his presence. He was the Temple’s pride and joy.

After some time, Mihael’s voice eventually came to a stop. He waited for you to open your eyes and smiled again. “How was that?”

“It was lovely,” you beamed. “Thank you. I’m not all too familiar with most of the passages, but even if I couldn’t completely make sense of all the words, it still filled me with warmth. There were some worries on my mind earlier as well, so I feel a lot better now.”

“I’m very happy to hear that. This is a safe place. If you ever feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you are always to come here.”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

Mihael leaned forward, his hand coming to rest just atop your head. You flushed, a bit confused, but certainly didn’t complain when he started gently stroking your hair.

“I am overjoyed for you, Lady [Name]. I will pray each day that you and the Prince have a long, happy marriage.”

He was so earnest, so genuine in his enthusiasm on your behalf, that you didn’t quite have the heart to tell him how you truly felt about Xeno. You just stood there, relishing in the warmth of this gentle, selfless man.

His hand eventually dropped, and he almost looked disappointed as it did.

“I should be going now,” you said. “My servants are waiting outside for me, and there’s a lot I still have to attend to now that word’s gotten out about my engagement. You know how nobles can be.”

“Yes, of course. I wish you the best of luck with all your endeavors.”

You thanked him again, and waved back at him up until you’d reached the entrance. You then turned and pushed the door open.

If you’d waited just a second longer before turning away, you would’ve seen his smile drop.

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[briarscreek]

Mediaeval Prisoner!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley had a point

simon’s life had been great. he was absolutely around your finger and he wouldn’t want anything else in his life.

simon had gotten softer around you. not in his duty to guard you hell no but he wore his battle armor less, only wearing his lighter chainmail around the grounds. he felt lighter in it, more life in his step. he knew it was time to grab that box from his dresser.

when he opened his chamber doors, he was surprised to see you overlooking his study desk.

“dove, here to surprise me?” he gave his usual teasing tone.

“no sir riley but you have certainly surprised me.”

well, that unexpectedly made his heart drop to his stomach. sir riley? he is only simon to you.

“how so dovie?”

you took a few papers off his desk and started to read.

“dear sir riley, how goes it with the countess? is she your wife yet? signed gaz. dear sir riley, how goes the new countess? swaying her heart yet? signed his majesty king price. dear simon, so when can we start calling you the count of whitegrave? signed soap”

well fuck. how is he gonna explain this to you? start slowly? or just abruptly let his heart talk? every word was on the tip of his tongue but no sound came out.

so you continued on.

“what was your plan exactly, sir riley? stay here past your supposed orders, slither your way into my bed, then take my title from me? almost like graves tried to do? but hey at least graves had the honor to tell me his plan up front.”

“n-no , dovie, i—“

“i am the countess of whitegrave to you”

that had stung. just like the tears in his eyes.

“i want you off my estate by morning.” he noticed you took a stuttering breath. you were holding back tears too.

“countess please—“

“get out riley”

now simon’s hoped future went up in flames, just like his heart.

<<PREVIOUS

NEXT>>

[noxusstrap]

"I'll Get It Right This Time" An Ekko Time-Travel Fix It Fic

Ok so Hi! This is my first time ever dipping my toes into Tumblr posting besides just coming on here and reading some godly one-shots.

Im posting my fic here, as well as AO3, just in case!

Hope you guys enjoy!

CHAPTER I : THE BOY WHO SHATTERED TIME

Ekko felt like he was gonna hurl.

 Heimerdinger wasn't supposed to- he wasn't supposed to sacrifice himself like that, Powder wasn't supposed to come in during the process, wasn't supposed to see the real him, and he was so sure he wasn't supposed to see the expression she made at him so full of Love and Affection; but it all happened and he didn't know what to do now. He always thought himself to be the most sensible and sane of his former friends; but, now? Now he just wants to go back to his Jinx and save his people.

But the Universe had other plans.

He felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand up and he instinctively knew. The Hex Core was acting up, and he didn't know what to do. All it took was a single glance at the Z-Drive before everything went white.

_____

The first thing he could feel was the paved road beneath him, followed by the sounds of a bustling street and that distinct smell of Home.

It worked. 

Ekko sat up and silently cheered.

He was back! Only-

He paused and looked around, and everything was bigger than what he remembers, and that's when he noticed it; his hands were tiny. His child-like hands were just barely hanging onto the Z-Drive, or rather, what remained of it. The Hexcore glowed softly within the now shattered confinements of the Z-drive. The monkeys seemingly rusted like they've been used for decades rather than just a handful of times and all he could do was stare.

Oh Janna.

The device worked alright, but it worked too well, now; he's stuck in the past with no way back to the future.

It was supposed to only be four seconds…HOW COULD IT HAVE THROWN HIM OVER A DECADE TO THE PAST?!

“Fuck,” he sighed, just barely stopping himself from banging his head against the alley wall; he wasnt going to look a gifted horse in the mouth; he had gotten a once-in-a-lifetime chance and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. First things first, he had to figure out what day he was sent back to, and more importantly, what can he prevent from happening this time around to benefit the future?

Just as he was about to take a step out of the alley, he paused. He took a small glance at the Z-Drive; it was too big to disguise it as anything, and it would look suspicious if a small little child was carrying a device that looked like it could be worth millions even though it was severely damaged. He looked around, ducking between the dumpsters in the alley before finding a satchel, it was big enough to hold the broken Z-Drive but not big enough to arouse suspicion.

Ekko hummed, put the machine in the satchel and made his way out of the alley.

_____

His body instinctively carried him to Benzo’s Pawn Shop though his mind was absent, stirring with thoughts and possibilities of a different future, one where Jinx, Vi, Vander, and everyone else are still alive and well; it was dangerous to hope for that future. (he wanted to hope so so so badly-)

His thoughts come to a halt when they reach Jayce and his dear friend and partner, Viktor. He knew there was a universe out there where Hextech was never invented and it was an almost perfect world; of course he would know, he lived through it.

He paused right at the entrance of the shop, everything he could hear around him quieted to a light hum.

Just because Hextech went bad in one future doesn't mean we can't have good Hextech ideas and innovations. We just have to stop whatever the fuck Viktor did with the Hexcore; whatever it was. And- maybe bring Heimerdinger into this mess he made.

Ekko smirked and pushed open the doors. The ding of the bell rang resolutely throughout the small shop, and his false bravado fades as quickly as it appeared.

What if Benzo’s already Dead?

What if I arrived so much later than I predicted?

Was Powder still Powder?

Is Vander still Alive?

What if-

“Hey little man, where have you been all day, ey?” 

Ekko slowly looked towards the back of the shop, where the noise originated from. He knew that voice; he knew it better than anyone, but he couldn't just let himself hope before seeing him for himself.

He clutched the straps of the satchel holding the Z-Drive and took a single step towards the back room, before he could take another, a hand emerged from the back. He KNEW that hand.

And then he saw him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to the shop, you just ran off and it’s dan-” Benzo gets cut off by Ekko slamming into his stomach at nearly sub-human speeds for a hug. He stumbles slightly, taken aback at the sheer strength Ekko showed, and lightly chuckled. “Woah there! Almost made me fall there, when did you get so strong Little Man!” He teases. 

Ekko let out an inaudible whimper, tightened his hold just a little more before releasing Benzo.

“Always been this strong Benzo.” Ekko’s voice miraculously kept an even tone despite everything in him wanting to cry and bury his face into the arms of his pseudo-father.

Benzo knew something was bothering Ekko, and he knew it had something to do with whatever he was carrying in that satchel of his, but chose not to pry, he could tell me what's going on if he really wanted me to know, he reasoned. Instead, he nuzzled Ekko’s hair and hummed, nodding to himself before slowly making his way to the back of the store.

“Listen kid-” Benzo stops in his tracks and calls over his shoulder, “Whatever you do, just be safe.” He smiles, and with that, he leaves. Ekko tries to get his body to move, to do anything, but it refused to listen. All he could do was watch the man he admired so much go back to his work.

Calm down, you need to calm down,Ekko chided himself, trying to psych himself up.

Everything’s okay, Benzo being here means Vander hasn't died yet, that means Claggor and Mylo are still alive and Power is still Powder. Ekko looked around the various shelves of knick knacks and useful items, his eyes gliding through them before stopping on a particular piece of hardware. It looked familiar, but where had he seen it before?

He narrowed his eyes, his mind fixated on this one piece; he knew this was before the deaths of everyone he loved but why was this specific piece of scrap ringing some sort of bell in his brai-

It was the last piece Jayce bought from them to complete his work.

Ekko felt bells frantically go off in his head; this means he was sucked back two months before Jayce’s apartment got blown up, two months before Ekko told anyone about the young scholar he scammed over the last couple of mechanisms needed to complete a project, two months was all he got to work with.

He cursed silently, his mind scrambling to make a cohesive plan with the amount of time he had at his disposal. If he could fix the Z-Drive, it would make his life so much easier, but as he took a single glance into the satchel, he decided it was best to leave that particular project on the back burner for now. He wouldn't even know where to begin with the Z-Drive without Heimerdinger's help, and even then, this wasn't his Heimerdinger anymore, this wasn't the brilliant Professor casted out of the Council; this isn't the Professor who found solace and companionship within the Firelights; this isn't the professor who sacrificed everything for him to be here right now.

Speaking of the Firelights, would they even be able to form now that he’s trying to fix everything? Would he be willing to establish the Firelights again for the sake of providing a sanctuary for the people of the Lanes? Oh without a doubt. But, he muses, it would be a couple of years from now that it would happen; for now, he needed to think of what to do, and he needed to write it down fast.

He scrambled to his little hideout on top of the shop, his fingers gliding through the first piece of paper he could find at lightning speeds, his mind running a hundred miles a minute, trying to formulate a plan that's feasible in two months, or 8 weeks, or if you really want to get technical, 1,460 hours. When he stopped writing, his hand was cramping, seemingly bruised from all the back and forth on the paper, but his mind was clear and his heart was finally beginning to hope for a better future this time around.

EKKO’S PLAN FOR ABSOLUTE WORLD DOMINATION (SAVING EVERYONES ASSES)

Stop Silco from mass producing Shimmer (Stop Silco in general by ANY means necessary) ((I want whatever they had in the Other world to happen here))

DON'T LET POWDER BECOME JINX! (maybe recruit her in his plans?) ((who is this ‘Isha’ girl I keep seeing in my dreams of my reality? Was she real? Why was she with Jinx?))

Prevent Jayce from fucking things up this time around (maybe help out with his experiments? Perhaps give him a reason to not fuck up the trade with Zaun with the Hexgates?)

Never let Claggor and Mylo die this time around. (They deserve a better future than what they got)

Get Heimerdinger to help turn Zaun into a Utopia (he mentioned doing so much in such little time? Was he the one who made Zaun a better place?)

Re-Establish the Firelights in case things go awry.

Fix the Z-Drive whenever possible (I don't want it to malfunction and bring more problems with it)

He looked at the now hung plan on his wall. He had two months to do everything on his list, and if they tried to stop him, he would make it EVERYONE'S problem. He knew the first thing on his agenda was regrettably the most time-consuming; but he couldn't afford to waste more time. He had to find a way to stop Silco even if it meant killing the guy, (he knew he had some good in him; he saw it in the alternate timeline, if he could just figure out what cause him to turn good in that timeline, it would make his life so much eas-). He had everything on the line, and he wasn't going to LOSE this time.

Let the games begin. Ekko smirked.

Am I gonna go insane writing this? Oh ABSOLUTELY!

Do I Care? FUCKKKKKK NOOOOOO!!!!!

Let me know what yall think; its my first time posting kinda nervy..

[quilly72]

Tessa stared at the pills in front of her As she took a silent gulp. Could this be it. The final answer to her long never heard prayers. She had always wished to be just a bit...curvier. more like the other girls but that day never came. Just poor short 5 ft 4 tessa continuing to wait.

She cupped her hand pouring one of the pills in as she threw it back down her throat. She could almost feel it splash into her stomach as she felt her tummy grumble and convulse.

Her face twinged with a grimace as she tried to keep it down. "It doesn't sit super well now does it" Tessa stared into the mirror of her bathroom as she jutted her chest forward. Then turning to look at her ass. "Come on it said it was supposed to start showing results withing the first..."

Her voice trailed off as she felt a shiver run down her spine. Her body standing on edge as it started to feel like she was vibrating slightly from inside.

Tessas eyes grew with wonder as she felt her skin and body start to warm up to itch. It felt like her inside were bloating or pressurizing from within until it finally escaped her in a moment.

Uuummmhnnn

Tessa grunted as her chest sprang forward. Her hand s reflexively reaching up to catch them as they threw her forward. She almost toppled over before she caught herself. A suprised breath leaving her as she stared in the mirror. Oh my god it actually worked they're bigger I mean oh my god and...oh god.. is it...oh my god they are growing again.

Tessa chirped in excitement. Her body bouncing as she felt it pressurize. That warm ebb and flow pushing it's way thru her body. She tucked her lips in as she savored the warmth spreading across her chest. Her toes crinkling her thighs rubbing against each other as it sprang forward again.

Another yelp escaped her lips in ecstacy as her butt filled out. Her hips jutting out as tessa smiled. Her chest filling up another cup size as she stared at her bra strap digging into her shoulder. Her boobs weighing the undersized bra down to the ground. Her tits not only coming over but also under and thru the sides of the bra

At this point tessa was pretty sure she could lose her TV remote in her cleavage or worse her partner.

She posed in the mirror swaying and turning to get every angle. Her tits were easily e or f cups her butt pushed out just the right amount her thong digging into her hips. Even her thighs seemed to have swelled out making sure that any pair of pants she had in the future would pop just right.

Tessa grabbed her phone as she tried to take a picture suddenly her stomach dropping as she felt it gurgle. What was thAaaaA.

Like an overloaded spring tessa recoiled up and out. The synching and groaning of clothes filling the room as it strained against her l. Her bra dug into her chest turning it beat red. As she overcame her vertigo and balanced against the wall tessa looked to find herself taller.

Atleast half a ft. Her eyes darted across her body to the mirror and to the floor. Something was wrong this wasn't supposed to happen her boobs were just supposed to grow a bit and then it was done it said nothing about growth. Maybe it was a bad reaction or bad product maybe it was a side effect. Tessa reached for the pills as she felt her stomach drop again

Wait fuck nOOoOo

She shot up again. Her boobs groaning as they lurched forward heaving her bra off into the mirror. Tessa stood naked as her thong slithered across the tile after it was rubber banded off of her thighs.

Tessas head rocketed up another half a ft pushing 6 ft 6 as she tried to gain her balance. Her toes slid against the tile as her boobs blocked tessas vision of her entire lower body. Using the mirror she could see her thighs and hips were easily 3 inches wider than before.her thighs plumped up against each other as they thickened. Tessas glasses linked off as her vision grew hazy and slightly off. She tried to catch them but she felt her body church and bubble again.

She tried to hold it back ad she braced against the pressure but it ended up escaping thru her pursed lips like a whined moan.

Tessatried to catch her breath as another unwanted foot sprang out.

Her knees buckled as she groaned. Her eyes clasping shut as her mouth tried to draw in a shaky breath against the waves of pleasure. Her body creaked as it soared higher and higher breaking 7 ft.

Tessas eyes grew wide as she watched her body engulf the mirrors view. Her hips were just as wide as her chest. Her boobs gave her back lain as they tried to drag her down to the floor easily the size of basketballs. Tessa reached her arm up for balance as it hit the roof. Her panicked eyes watching her palm brace against the ceiling. Her shaky legs under her struggling to keep up.

Each breath raised her body as if it were swelling but jot going back down. The warmth in her chest her toes her thighs her lips webbing closer and closer to the cliff edge.

Tessa grabbed her tits woth her arm trying to support them as she felt her body shake and shiver. "Fuuuuckkk nooo" She whined as she bit her lip. Her eyes closed again as her shivering turned into violent tremors Tessa trying to gold it back as she whined thru pierced lips her face clenching shut as she started to give.

A scream broke thru the walls as she rocketed again. Shiiiiiittt she squeeled as her head rattled against the roof. "This is way too fucking big how in the world am I supposed to shrink or fix THIISsss" Tessa clenched another eartth shattering orgasm as her head folded into the roof.vher shoulders indenting as she fell to her knees. Her larger body slamming forward cracking the sink as it started to leak water. Her knees sliding in the pool as her tits cracked the glass mirror. Her feet curled in ecstacy as they planted flat against the wall with another surge

Tessa was big too big. She mumbled and panicked her large body trying to swivel and find space as her head hit the roof again then her shoulders her butt encroaching the back wall as it started to push the drywall back.

I'm running out of room I can't breathe fuck I can't breathe im... TOO ANOTHER FOOT FUCKING HER BODY CRACKED AGAINST THE ROOM BIG

A final scream left her as the bathroom caved plaster tiles glass and wood snapping as she toppled out of the room. Her legs bursting thru the walls her hips slamming the drywall open as her head rushed into the attic.

It didn't even surprise her when with another surge she found herself crushing the house and her car. Her legs tearing up the cement driveway as she finally felt the pressure subside. Her breaths regaining control as tessa looked at the half destroyed house entangled around her chest and hips locking her in. Her hand coming to her head as she let out a final moan.

Fuck me. 

[tricksh0t]

winterfell

☾ theon greyjoy x top m reader

𝘱𝘳𝘦-𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ part 2 of rock and salt / explanation on the character i have in mind for the insert below

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 635 words

cw: sub theon, dacryphilia, manipulation, some small feminization again, mean reader, cheating, hair pulling

"So this is Winterfell, huh?"

Theon can hardly think of a reply, what with your cock gliding in and out of him. You don't let the pleasure be simply easy, simply fast and just that; no, you fuck him roughly like it's hard, like with each movement of your hips, you're fighting through dry walls rather than a slick, oiled asshole.

It's drilling him into the bed—Ned Stark's bed, Catelyn Tully's bed, the bed that was now his. Theon was the Lord of Winterfell now.

By all means, he shouldn't stand this now.

But you've got him wrapped around your finger.

With a tug at his hair, you lift his head off of where it was pressed into the mattress, urging him to speak.

"Yes." Theon says. The weight of his head is heavy, urging him to want to press it back into the mattress, back into the wet spot of spit he'd drooled onto the sheets.

"It is rather cold." You pause, again, expecting an answer.

"Yes." Is all Theon can say.

"And you lived here? You were raised here?" You scoff, and this time you don't want a reply, "These are lavish comforts, here. Wrapped up in your furs, enjoying your fires. It's nothing like the Iron Isles, you don't have the swing bridges between halls. You don't have the salty air nippin' at you, whipping your hair over your eyes, while you're trying to walk back to your chambers after an uneventful dinner with your future father-in-law."

Another tug, bringing him all the way back to have his head rest on your shoulder. He can't mistake the gesture for a soft one, not when your hand is on his cock the next moment, jerking him off like a fierce fire that paints the edges of his pleasure into overstimulation.

"Or should it already be father-in-law, as I have taken you for a salt husband?"

"I–" Theon is cut off my a hiccup. A hiccup. He saves himself quickly, "I don't know."

"You don't know nothing except pillage and murder." You laugh into his ear, squeezing the red tip of his cock. Pain shoots up his body and tears prick into his eyes.

It's pathetic, how intimate this position is, how he's crying. He feels all of you. His back is pressed into your chest, his head is on your shoulder, his legs brace yours, your cock is pressed right into his core.

It's almost like he's your lady; your pathetic little lady, crying because he's yours and you're holding him close like you care about him.

"Aww, look at you. You're crying." Your voice quiets down to something soft, letting go of his cock and his body, letting him fall down onto the bed again. If the mattress weren't made for royals, the fall might've even hurt. "Let's fix that, hm?"

The sudden care shocks him, but it doesn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks nor the short, choked sobs from escaping his lips.

Your hips are back to work, thrusting your cock with what, care?

"Feels good, don't it, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart, care, intimacy, pleasure. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, it does feel good.

Theon sniffles. There's snot on the Starks'—his sheets now.

You're treating him good, treating him well, taking care of him, almost the same way you do when you're not having sex; almost like when you defended him against his father back in the Iron Isles, when you found him his pillaging crew, when you came to visit with Yara because you were "concerned for him".

In some ways, you're bad for him, like how easily you coerce him to away to tangle in the sheets, like how he's obsessed with your cock.

In some other ways, he supposes, you're good for him.

"Yes." Is all he can say.

𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ so, insert's facade is the strongest warrior of the iron isles or so, a dutiful man; his betrothal to yara is an honor, some kind of reward for being loyal to the iron isles and also i know yara is like a lesbian but she's okay with it because she rlly trusts insert cause you know he's strong and loyal and has been a soldier under her for so long (it's really hard to talk about this without being silly when insert has no name btw because mindsets) but anyway, he's mean and manipulative behind the scenes obviously, only because it entertains him

[teeztruthers24]

in every lifetime, I would still choose this life with you

PAIRINGS: geto x gojo x reader (satosugu x reader)

WARNINGS: pregnancy (sorry if this icks you out...but for Geto and Gojo...i'll do this every time) + anxious thoughts + reader's water breaks at the end, hurt/comfort (idk why I can't write pure angst)

Reader is heavily implied as afab + is pregnant but other than that, there are no other defining features described

(this just made me wish satoru and suguru were real ... because they would be amazing husbands (sobs))

SUMMARY:

Heart pounding, oncoming headache, belly aching, anxiety raising; that's how Satoru and Suguru left you when you were at home and they were on missions.

Maybe a heart-to-heart conversation would help them realise you just needed your husbands to be safe out in the world - knowing when they were coming home, it wasn't just to you...but a very special little someone as well!

START:

The warmth of the early morning sun is what awoke you this morning, which is strange because usually, it’s your large man-child of a husband who wakes you up by peppering a bunch of silly kisses across your face and hair, making you giggle and push him away. If that didn’t wake you up, Satoru would then bring in the big guns – Suguru, who would kiss you whilst tickling you to silence your raucous laughter. 

What a wonderful way to start each morning. 

Except this morning, although the sun was warm on your face, your hands could only feel the cold sheets beneath them as you mindlessly searched for your husbands with your eyes closed. 

Irritated that you couldn’t find them in bed, you opened your eyes to find yourself in your empty bedroom. Silence. The silence was…quite well-welcomed considering Satoru always managed to fill the quiet. And the silence was even more appreciated considering in a few months, you and your husbands would soon wake up to the shrill cry of your newborn. 

But after getting out of bed and finishing washing up in your bathroom, you found the silence starting to become unsettling. Where was the sound of Satoru laughing at that terrible reality TV show he insists you all watch during movie night or the sound of Suguru in the kitchen making breakfast?

Feeling slightly unnerved, you walked out of your bedroom and found the living room also empty. You decide to head into the nursery, a room that, recently, has been a source of comfort when the thoughts of impending motherhood rendered you full of anxiety and worry for your future. 

Being a jujutsu sorcerer in a world like the one you and your husbands lived in was, for lack of a better word, incredibly distressing. Luckily, now that you were nearing the end of your pregnancy, you weren’t asked to go on missions (and therefore didn’t have to deal with those awful old higher-ups) but the same couldn’t be said for Satoru and Suguru. They were still asked to go on missions that you always considered dangerous due to the special grade curses you knew they would encounter. The same missions that would have your heart pounding from the moment they left home to when they entered through the front door again, and your stomach clenching with anxiety (although, as of late, you couldn’t distinguish if that was anxiety or your baby). 

Shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts, you walk into the nursery and find Satoru and Suguru…building the crib…that they were supposed to build three weeks ago. Biting back a smile you walked, or waddled rather, further into the room and cleared your throat, making your presence known. 

Satoru and Suguru’s hands paused in their work and they both slowly turned their head up to look at you with nervous smiles on their beautiful faces. They knew they were busted…they should’ve just listened when you asked them to build the crib the day they bought it. 

Letting go of the leg piece he was holding, Suguru stood up, wiped his hands and leaned down to give you a gentle hug. 

Rubbing his hand up and down your sore back, he whispered, “Good morning my love.” The adoring smile on his face when he looked at you could melt all the ice in the world. 

Trying to seem assertive in front of your husbands, you huffed in reply and turned your head to the side, choosing to look at the beautiful mural Shoko and Utahime painted (more Utahime than Shoko) on your baby’s nursery wall. Maybe ignoring Suguru’s greeting, as sweet as he was, would send your (dim) husbands that you finally caught them in their punishment of not listening to you. 

Instead, your act had the complete opposite effect on Suguru and Satoru, who looked at each other with a knowing smile and then turned to you with an endearing look in their eyes and wrapped you in the warmest, tightest (being mindful of your bump) hug that had you wanting to go back to sleep again. 

“Did you sleep well, sweetcheeks? Hope we didn’t wake you up with our noise…and if we did then it was all Suguru’s fault!” Satoru said cheerfully. 

Turning to face him, you pinched his cheeks and savoured his whining before replying, “The only reason I slept well was my two body pillows that did not move at all during the night…thank you. But I did not ,” you emphasise, “appreciate waking up all alone. The bed got cold,” you whined at the end, hoping your pouty lips would make your husbands feel bad about leaving you all alone in bed. 

“Oh my love we’re so sorry! We just wanted to let you sleep in and get to work on the crib…though…we had hoped it would be finished before you woke up,” Suguru said with a dejected tone. 

Almost immediately, you softened and grabbed their hands before stating, “It’s okay my loves. At least you’re working on it now, no? As long as it’s done before the baby comes, do not stress. Now, I am incredibly hungry…are you going to just stand here or go to the kitchen and make breakfast for the mother of your child,” you asked cheekily, brow raised in question.

Your boys leant down to peck your cheeks before scrambling to the kitchen to get started on breakfast. Laughing softly to yourself, you followed them and leaned against the doorway, watching as your husbands clumsily moved around each other in your small kitchen. 

After watching them for some time, you voiced out if they needed any help and Satoru and Suguru shook their heads in disagreement so hard and fast you worried they would get whiplash. 

“No my dear, you just sit and rest your feet. Let us serve you food, okay love? Don’t you worry about a single thing,” Suguru walked towards you, arms opened, and moved you to sit on the comfy chair in the dining room. “We’ll be done soon and you focus on eating well love,” he said before placing a kiss on your forehead and bending down to kiss the soft swell of your belly. 

With a large smile on his gorgeous face, he left for the kitchen and all you could hear was the clinging of pans and the smell of delicious breakfast being made for you. 

Soon enough, out walked Satoru carrying your food and Suguru carrying a portion for him and Satoru to eat. Placing the food on the table in front of you, Satoru leaned over to kiss you, and you found yourself wanting to deepen the feeling of your lips against his plush soft ones. 

Hearing a soft clearing of the throat stopped the two of you, however, and you leaned back with a chuckle. Looking at Suguru, you took his hand in your right, Satoru’s in your left, and said cheerfully, “Let’s eat!” 

Luckily neither of your husbands had any missions so you all stayed at home and rested whilst they fixed the crib and checked off their to-do lists for the nursery.

Later that evening when you all were getting ready for bed, you in the bathroom and Satoru and Suguru already getting comfortable in bed, you could hear their conversation about their upcoming mission; special grade curses were released near an elementary school in Roppongi. Hearing what Satoru and Suguru were saying, you went rigid and panic took over you; this mission sounded incredibly dangerous…and of course it was sent by the higher-ups. 

You could hear the worry in Suguru’s voice when he told Satoru he wished they didn’t have to go because “I hate leaving our girl all alone… and pregnant. I mean, the useless old geezers at the top know that we have a kid on the way and they send us on these missions that send our darling spiralling waiting for us…” he broke off, biting his lip in distress. 

Before Satoru could calm him down, you walked out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the ground. Your husbands shot their heads to look at you and you didn’t have to express your concerns because your boys knew too well, judging from your hunched shoulders and hand caressing your belly, about the extreme anxiety coursing your veins. 

They knew all too well about your nightmares and restless sleep that was a result of overthinking about all the darkness you all faced in this world, sorcerer or not…and raising kids in this dangerous world seemed too frightening. 

They understood perfectly because they too had these same nightmares; missions were no longer an easy ‘get it done and go home’ job but rather involved a stomach-turning, panic-inducing state where the boys couldn’t stop imagining their soon-to-be baby as the victim of the curses. They couldn’t stop waking up startled, sweat dripping down their backs, at the thought of you defeating a curse yet never making it home to them and your baby. They worried more than they let on – because you were already stressed and who were they to add to your plate? They had to be strong…they are the strongest sorcerers in the world for a reason, right?

Seeing you so upset made their hearts ache, and they couldn’t have you so distressed before bed. Suguru reached a hand out, and when he found yours slipping into his hold, he helped you onto the bed and into his arms. Satoru gently pressed against your front, placing soft kisses across your belly. 

“I’m worried about your mission. I’m worried you…you won’t come back to me…” you whispered, lips trembling, eyes glistening with tears.

You heard a sharp intake before Suguru leaned down to whisper softly but loud enough for you all to hear, “Oh my love,” he grips you tighter, “Please don’t worry. This mission will be like every other mission okay? 

“Yeah, Suguru’s right doll! The mission can’t fail because we’re the strongest, remember?” Satoru asked, aiming the last part at Suguru with wide eyes, hoping Suguru would help him console you. 

Suguru nodded his head and agreed, “Exactly darling! We’re sorry we can’t do anything to stop you from panicking when we leave for missions, but you have to remember how much we love you, sweetheart. When we leave for those horrendous missions, the only thing keeping us going is knowing you’re waiting at home for us, and soon enough, we’ll be coming home to our lovely wife and our wonderful baby.” He paused to stroke your hair and press kisses into your hairline, before continuing, “It cannot get any better than that my darling.”

Your chest felt a little bit lighter, your breathing more mellowed out. 

“Once again, Suguru’s right sweetcheeks!” Satoru exclaimed. His hand raised to delicately stroke your cheek before basically engulfing your face with his much larger hand. His eyes softened and his voice lowered to an almost whisper, “I know it’s scary carrying a child and then raising them in this world that is dangerous for anyone who isn’t like us. But you’ve got us doll…you won’t have to ever worry about raising this baby,” he caressed your belly with a smile, “alone. You won’t ever have to worry about being the sole protector of our family, because my sweetcheeks, that’s what Suguru and I are here for. You have to remember my love, despite how scary this world is, the love you put out with all your heart will find its way back to you. In this case, it's our beautiful child you’re so strongly carrying.”

Your heart melted. Your husbands always managed to calm you down with their gentle touches and soft words, even Satoru, who strived to shower you and Suguru with physical affection of kisses and hugs and cuddles. 

“I thought I’d never say it love, but…Satoru’s right,” Suguru joked before Satoru interjected with a loud, “Hey!” Tender laughs erupted from the three of you and filled the room with happiness, clearing the murky misery in the room. 

You sniffled, and before you could reach over Satoru to your nightstand to grab a tissue, Satoru and Suguru blotted your tears off your face with their sleeve, their touch so soft you felt like wanting to cry all over again – though this time with a much clearer and lighter heart than before. 

You started scooting off the bed, ignoring Satoru and Suguru’s questioning gaze and moved to grab your hospital go-bag off the floor. Turning to face your husbands with a huge smile, you exclaimed with delight, “Thank you for that my loves, I truly needed to hear that. Now…get your asses off the bed and help me to the hospital – this baby is coming!” 

Suguru and Satoru shot off the bed and started fluttering around you nervously, yet excitedly. Before they could start their fluster of “What?” and “Oh lord dear why didn’t you say something sooner”, you said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you before, but my water broke in the bathroom before and my contractions are starting…we need to go to the hospital now!” 

Looking your husbands in their eyes, hoping to see any sign of apprehension, all you could see was adoration and eager anticipation to get you to the hospital and have this baby. Slowly, they held you and the bag as you all walked towards the car. 

Walking down the stairs, you turned to look at both your husbands, and smiled at them, getting back smiles that were larger than life and tears glistening in their eyes. Oh, how excited they were to see this baby; hold this baby; love this baby. Oh, how excited they were to love you even more than they already did (if that was even possible).

[callsign-rogueone]

the love letter

sawyer henrick x healer!reader (peach!) words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, no warnings, set in iron flame, the 4th chapter in sawyer and peach's story, more of james being creepy but he doesn't make an appearance this time, nolon is still out of office, two points extra credit if you find a reference to another gf in here somewhere, both of these kids are still in denial and will be for another... three? chapters, first chapter of 2025 lezgeddit

Two more shelves of supplies to inventory, and then you’ll be done for the day. You pull yourself up from the floor, wincing at the ache in your knees from squatting in front of an under-the-sink cabinet. “Almost done,” you sigh. 

“I’ll finish up,” Sarah says, nodding toward the door. “You go see loverboy.”

“He’s a friend,” you correct, hoping she can’t see the warmth in your cheeks.

“Mmm,” she hums, clearly not buying it. “A very good friend, then. He’s here almost every day.”

She’s right. Like clockwork, Sawyer is waiting for you at eleven twenty eight. Always just a little bit early, but never ever late. You suppose riders have to be even more punctual than healers. 

“Thank you,” you say, giving her a rushed half-hug before you head out to the main room of the infirmary.

He’s always sitting at one of the study tables, and always stands up as soon as he sees you. 

You don’t wait for him to ask. “I got a hundred percent on my foraging assignment,” you say by way of greeting.

He smiles. “See? I told you not to worry about it, miss future Head Healer.”

“You’re not letting that go anytime soon, are you?”

“Nope.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully, but there’s no denying that his belief in you feels good, even if it’s exaggerated — there’s a tiny bit of truth in every joke. 

“Could you thank him again for me?” you ask softly. 

“Of course,” he says warmly. “And I brought you something, to celebrate.”

“It’s not another knife, is it?” you ask with a nervous laugh.

“I promise it’s not a knife.” He reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a piece of cloth, then folds back the edges, revealing something that glitters in the afternoon sunlight — a delicate metal chain with a tiny flower pendant at the end of it. He lays it in your palm, pocketing the cloth. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

“I didn’t. I made it myself.”

Your smile fades near immediately. “You made this?”

He looks a little crestfallen. “Yeah, why?” 

“I love it,” you reassure him quietly, still gazing at it, “but I don’t want you to be in pain. Especially not for me.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

You look up at him. “Doesn’t it hurt? Using your signet?”

He looks concerned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not. It felt a little weird and tingly at first, but it never hurts.”

“But the Colonel always looks so uncomfortable, and the other mender… fixing a broken bone nearly brought her to tears,” you tell him, looking back at the tiny metal flower that you hold in your palm. You wouldn’t want to wear it if it had caused him pain to make it — but then if you don’t wear it, the pain would have been wasted. Which is worse?

“Hey,” he nudges, his hands settling on your forearms. “I promise you, it didn’t hurt me at all to make this, or to adjust that dagger for you. It’s easy, like shaping clay. Easier than that, really. I don’t have to sculpt all the details, I just picture them and they appear.”

You crack a smile. “I was wondering why you stole a single flower from my basket the other day.”

He blushes. “Sorry. I needed a reference — I wanted to make it accurate.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “Thank you. Can you help me put it on?” You know you could do it yourself, but some part of you wants him to be the one to close the clasp, to lay his claim to you.

He takes it back from you, roughened fingers brushing against yours. “Turn around,” he prods.

You move your hair out of the way, letting him drape the thin chain around your neck. It’s just long enough for the tiny flower to sit exactly above your heart. The metal is pleasantly warm against your skin, seeming to glow under his touch as he clasps it, his fingertips brushing against the sides of your neck. 

He wants to kiss the soft skin there, to wrap his arms around your waist and press his chest to your back, to nudge his nose against the side of your throat and just breathe you in, because you smell absolutely intoxicating — sugary, fruity perfume and a hint of whatever herbs you’d been working with this morning. He settles for a gentle, fleeting touch to your shoulders, smoothing out the sleeves of your shirt before he shoves his hands back into his pockets.

“Thank you, Sy,” you say quietly, turning to face him again. There’s a soft pink blush across his cheeks, his lips curved into a shy smile. It’s adorable. You’d definitely kiss him right now if this weren’t all an act. It would be so easy to step forward and rise onto your tiptoes and just… Nope. Boundaries. He’s just doing you a favor, as a friend. Don’t make it weird.

He isn’t saying anything, so you attempt to cut the tension by changing the subject. “You’re pretty good at this pretend boyfriend thing, you know. Bringing me gifts, slipping that love letter under my door…”

His head tilts to the side in confusion. It's unbearably cute. “What letter?”

You give him a sly smile. “I know it was totally over the top and super cheesy, but you don’t have to pretend. It was kinda cute.”

His gaze hardens. “What letter, peach,” he repeats, with an edge to his voice that you’ve only heard a few times — it’s not a question, but an order for you to tell him what the hell is going on.

Your heart drops. “It really wasn’t from you?”

He shakes his head no.

It all starts to add up. You haven’t seen Sawyer’s handwriting in years, but now that you think about it, it didn’t look anything like what you’d seen this morning, and there isn’t any trace of amusement on his face as he looks at you — he’s telling the truth. It wasn’t him. It was James.

All those sweetened words now feel like taunts, the promises like threats. Maybe they are. Maybe you’re right to be scared of him.

“Do you have it with you?” he asks gently.

“No, it’s… it’s on my desk.”

He picks up your bag, shouldering it and gesturing toward the door, as if to say lead the way. You make the trip silently, taking him down hallways that have become familiar to him in the last few weeks. He’s memorized the turns by now; a left past the infirmary, up two flights of stairs, another left, third door on the right. Room 322.

You unlock it with an actual key — something he’s still not used to — and shrug off the healer’s robe as soon as you walk in the door, tossing it over the back of your chair.

He’s walked you to your door a few times, but he’s never been inside. He realizes that the way everything in the riders' rooms is black, the healers’ are powder blue; the sheets and drapes, and the woven rug between your desk and the bed. He steps back, not wanting to dirty it with his boots.

It’s just as sparsely furnished as the riders’ rooms, but you’ve added a few things to make it less austere. The stuffed bunny you’d carried around as a child and taken meticulous care of sits on your pillow, there’s a neat row of tiny nail polish bottles on the desk — and a small piece of paper there among your books.

You hand it to him, chewing your lip. “I just thought you were being overdramatic about it to be funny, but…” You watch his eyes flick back and forth as he reads through it, and you make a second, sickening realization. “I don’t know how he figured out which room is mine,” you whisper. “All of my healer friends think he’s crazy, so they definitely wouldn’t tell him. And you’re the only other person who knows, besides the leadership.”

He looks up from the paper, his jaw clenching. 

“I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” you whisper, holding back tears. “Hey,” he soothes, dropping the anger completely. “Don’t apologize. None of this was your fault.”

“Maybe it was,” you say softly. “Maybe I was too nice to him, did something to make him think I liked him…”

“Whether or not you were nice to him, he should have taken no for an answer the first time,” he says firmly. 

“I just don’t know what to do anymore. I told him about you, because I thought that would finally get him to stop, but I think that might have made it worse. I don’t want him to go after you.”

“I’ll be fine. Nobody else is allowed into the rider’s quadrant, and even if we crossed paths, I could totally take him in a fight,” he says with a half-smile — it doesn’t make you feel any better. “C’mere.” 

You step forward without hesitation, letting him gather you into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder. The leather of his jacket is cold against your cheek.

“I promised you we would get you through this, and I’m not going to quit. Is Nolon here today? Or the head healer?”

You shake your head. “No. I never know when they’ll be around. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Then tomorrow, you and I will talk to them about what’s going on, and see what he can do about it. I’ll meet you in the infirmary, like always. Bring the letter with you.”

“Okay,” you sniff, worrying the little flower back and forth between your fingers nervously. “Thank you, Sy.”

He reaches up to cradle your cheek, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “Of course, sweet girl. You know I’d do anything for you.”

You nod silently, leaning into his palm. He lingers there a moment, until you hear the muffled chime of the tower bells. “You should go,” you say quietly. “I don’t want you to be late.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he soothes. “Are you going to be okay for the night?”

You nod. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

He gives you one last little squeeze before he pulls away. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hum in response, silent as you watch him leave.

Tomorrow. You just have to make it to tomorrow.

[expresso-bean]

Then Man Out of Time [A Shadamy and Silver Story]: Chapter 26

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose

Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each them.

All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.

Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k

POV: Shadow the Hedgehog

Masterlist ❀ Ch.1 ❀ Ch.2 ❀ Ch.3 ❀ Ch.4 ❀ Ch.5 ❀ Ch.6 ❀ Ch.7 ❀ Ch.8 ❀ Ch.9 ❀ Ch.10 ❀ Ch.11 ❀ Ch.12 ❀ Ch.13 ❀ Ch.14 ❀ Ch.15 ❀ Ch.16 ❀ Ch.17 ❀ Ch.18 ❀ Ch.19 ❀ Ch.20 ❀ Ch.21 ❀ Ch.22 ❀ Ch.23 ❀ Ch.24 ❀ Ch.25

I looked down at the bowl of smushed tomatoes that I had cruelly bludgeoned to a messy pulp. Whatever was in the bowl would hardly considered to be a sauce.

'It looks like a massacre,' I wanted to whisper. 'Maybe I need to add another tomato?'

I looked beside me to S opening the rice cooker and lifting up the vapor plate. He carefully poured the contents of the plate into a pool of brown sauce that he'd been preparing for the past ten minutes. The sweet smell of the vegetables made my mouth begin to water slightly.

'Anyone could see that his abilities put mine to shame,' I continued to smoosh the contents of the bowl with so much force that the juices began to stain my white gloves a bright red color. 'Not that I would ever make that known to him.'

I put down the fork I was using and grabbed the salt from the spice rack on the countertop. I unscrewed the top of the shaker and began lightly sprinkling the salt in.

'How much should I even put in?'

I shook the shaker a few more times, still feeling unsatisfied. 

'I did say that I like salty things. Maybe she expects it to be salty?' I shook the shaker harder for a few more seconds until I could no longer see the tomatoes anymore. A crusty, pinkish layer was all that was visible. 'I think that is enough?'

"How is the sauce coming along?"

As he looked down at the content of the bowl, his eyebrows raised. I did my best to not look insulted. Though, I knew it was warranted. 

"I've only just started."

"Can I try?" I nodded. He took a fork and slushed the 'sauce' around before putting some in his mouth. His lips scrunched up as tears pricked at his eyes. "Ooh, that's pretty salty." He heaved out, placing the fork onto a small plate I had set aside for the utensils. "How much did you put in there?"

"Aren't they supposed to be salty?"

S shook his head. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and stood next to me by the sink. I gave up smashing the tomatoes from the bowl. It was nothing but a slop of juice and pulp.

"Not like that," He poured himself some water straight from the sink. I would have told him about the cold, purified water in the refrigerator. But his remarks on my culinary skills made him worthy of the lukewarm tap water he was going to consume. "Where is Amy anyway?" He gulped down the water so fast that he nearly choked at his first inhalation of fresh air. "Ow, maybe I shouldn't have drank it that fast."

'You think?'

S doubled over, holding his side.

'He...is more strange than usual,' S grunted again. He tried to say something through his teeth, but failed. 'Or is he dying?'

"You made your stomach cramp from drinking the water too fast. Steady your breathing and rub the area. If you panic, it will make the pain worse."

S unfolded himself and with a shaky arm he grabbed onto the countertop and hoisted himself up. His body shivered as he tried to breath.

"G-got it..."

He rubbed his side slowly. He bit back grunts of pain in between rubs. I stood there watching him repeat the same process over and over again.

'He's so helpless sometimes.'

"You think I'd be used to it by now. My stomach always get sensitive from traveling."

A hum in response is all I could muster. Just watching him frail up like that was enough for me to pity him and allow him to air out his story.

'No one knows anything about him other than the role he plays in a future wasteland. This could be the chance to try and see who he really is.'

"I was only fourteen when I began the practice trial runs. None of us knew what to expect from it. One the day of my first one, my father gathered the whole neighborhood to send me off. This couple prepared some soup for me made from rice noodles and a wild boar her partner had captured. It scared my father a bit because meals like that are only supposed to be served on special occasion like if someone is born or if someone dies," S' interrupted himself by coughing. He grunted, holding his side and trying to maintain his posture. "S-sorry..." He whispers.

"Your straining yourself."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm almost done," He breathes in and out slowly before continuing. "I was meant to stay for half a day since the time device needs to be in idle for twelve hours before it is used again. When I finally got the chance to eat some of the food, well, it didn't go so well for me when I jumped back into my current time."

'The watch's ability to allow him to jump through time puts momentous strain on his body? I may have been underestimating his competency.'

"I learned the hard way why you should travel on a full stomach. I still can't eat pork belly to this day. My stomach refuses," He laughed. "I can eat noodles funnily enough. It was hard at first, but I got over that hurdle."

I hummed again only to indicate I was still paying attention to his incessant rambles. I could hear his breathing slowly going back to normal the more he spoke. The breathing technique I showed him seemed to be working.

"So far, I've been snacking on the instant noodles you guys have. They're amazing!" He gleamed. "It sucks, though. The more I enjoy the innovations of this timeline, the more I think about all the starving people this could have helped in the future."

I then turned to look at him. Even through his pain, he sounded confident in his ranting, not caring if he had an audience.

Glimpsing at him was like putting up a mirror to my past. All those moments after escaping my prison, standing alone plotting revenge, monologuing to anything in my sight.

'That feeling. I know it so well,' I kept my mouth shut, not even bothering to look at him. 'Why is he telling me this?'

"I don't mean to ramble. Talking distracts from the pain. Tails taught me that."

"He was your uncle, right?"

S looked conflicted for a moment. With his body still doubled over, he managed to smile softly.

"Tails raised me, along with Cream and my father. The three of them taught me a lot."

"I'm sorry." I meant my apology with all sincerity. A pang of guilt shot through my body. It wasn't until now I realized how much we truly have in common. It was in that moment of my weakness I realized this was the most I have spoken to him since he got to this timeline.

'I know what it is like to lose yourself for so long,' I sighed. Memories flowed back to me as hard as a wave crashed against rocks on the shore. I forgot how hard it was to experience all that loss on my own. How heavy the burden of loss is to a lonely person. 'He lost everything. Through the impossible, he found a way to travel through time to repair everything that had been broken. To help people that he did not even get to meet in his own lifetime.'

The more I stare at the red hue of the sauce, the more I think of Rose. I would not be standing here making a mockery of culinary art without her kindness and belief that I had something stronger within me than revenge and hate. She found love still resided in me—love for creatures and beings alike.

Love for the place Maria adored and called home.

I swore I would die to protect it. I would die to protect Rose and the people she loves. But the one person who could help is the same person I have been pushing away since he arrived.

'He has a good heart. I have not been exercising the kindness both of them fostered within me.'

"I..." When our eyes met, my voice trailed off. There was a familiarity within them.

'Where have I seen them before?'

I cleared my throat and tried to brush my question off. S tilted his head as he, no doubt, waited for me to finish my sentiment.

"Yeah?" He questioned, still slumped over.

"You asked earlier where Rose went. She is at the store, grabbing some refreshments. She mentioned some things she wanted you to try."

"Really!" He gasped, and I flinched at his eager response. "I hope she gets the fruit stuff again. Those things are GOOD!" 

"Keep yourself composed before you go on and hurt yourself again."

"Oh, you're right," He chuckled. I could tell his voice was slightly strained from his groaning in pain earlier. "What is that stuff I ate anyway?"

"It's sauce."

"THAT is the sauce?" S covered his mouth and mumbled out what I think was meant to be an apology. "I didn't mean to say it like that. It, um, has a good color to it."

'So my suspicions were right. This is wrong,' I put what I had been clenching in my fist down back in the bowl and sighed. 'I've never made anything like this before, I have no choice but to...'

"S?"

"Huh?" He hummed.

'Ask him for help.'

"I need..." My voice trailed off. The words were stuck in my throat, which was now dry.

'Why is my chest so heavy? It's just a request. The worst he could say is no,'

"You need...?" He questioned, a nervous smile on his face. I could tell I was making him uncomfortable with the silence between us.

'I retract that. The worst thing is asking him of all people for a request.'

"I need to learn how to make a pasta dish,"

'Finally. That was...hard.'

"It's for Amy. She deserves to have something nice to eat in these times."

My face grew hot with embarrassment. 'Why did I phrase it so strange?'

"Oh, that's easy! I'd love to help!"

'Really? Just like that? Has it always been this easy to ask for favors?"

"Perfect timing, too. I helped Amy pick up some groceries the other day. We can make the sauce tonight. Do you want me to show you how to make it?"

"That would be...a lot of help."

"Cool," S smiled, moving away from the counter and stretching his body upright. A few of his joints popped as his back adjusted itself. "Let's wait till she goes to bed; it shouldn't take long to make, so you'll still be able to get some rest."

"Hm. I agree."

'Never in my life would I put myself in this predicament, but for Rose, I'd do this and more.'

[winchesterwild78]

Happy New Year pt 2

Master List

 Read Part 1 here

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, mentions of Danneel, reader’s husband, and other people. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, divorce, fluff

A/N: This story was supposed to be a one shot, but so many are asking for a second part. So here it is. There will be a time jump by a few months in this part. 

Jensen and Reader are co-workers and ended up at the same New Year’s Eve party. They had sex in the bathroom, and we learn this isn’t the first time they’ve been together.

This is a work of fiction, and I don’t condone cheating, but that’s what this story was about. 

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors. 

All work is my own, please don’t take it in any way. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were a whirlwind. Our break from filming was coming to an end and we were due back on set soon. Jensen and I kept in touch through text, and occasionally would find time to see each other. 

I couldn’t help it, I was falling for him. 

I knew it was dangerous. He’s married and so am I, but being with him, being in his arms I felt like I was all that mattered to him. 

We both have obligations, and commitments. His were to Danneel and their children, and mine were to my husband. Since the New Years Eve party my husband and I drifted further apart. He was consumed with which celebrities I could introduce him to, and of course the money I was making that was setting him up for a very comfortable lifestyle. 

At the end of February we finally hit the wall. “I can’t take this anymore. You’re more worried about which celebrity I can introduce you to, or how much money I’m bringing home than you are me. I’ve been sick for weeks and you haven’t noticed or cared. I’m done. I need you to leave.” 

He didn’t even argue, he packed his things and left. I sat on the couch and cried. Part of me was relieved we were done, but then the loneliness began to set in. 

I decided to keep the breakup to myself, at least for now. I was due back on set in a few days, and didn’t want to distract anyone, especially Jensen. 

I packed and headed to Toronto. Walking into the apartment I rented I let out the breath I’d been holding for what felt like months. 

Unpacking, I took inventory of everything I needed and grabbed my jacket to head to the store. My phone went off with a notification.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. I’m in town early. I’d like to see you if you’re up to it.

I bit my lip. The last time I saw him, a few weeks ago, he held me and we talked about our future. He told me he wanted to be with me, but wasn’t sure how we could make it work. Especially with the kids involved. I understood, but I’d be lying if it didn’t break my heart a little. 

We poured our hearts out to each other, said everything including “I love you”. I felt it, and I know he did too. 

Me: Yeah, hey. I’m heading to the store, but I can message you when I get back. Want to come over here?

Jensen: Yeah. I’d love to. See you soon, sweetheart.

My heart fluttered. I headed to the store and grabbed the things I needed and went home. Putting up the groceries I got a notification on my phone. It was an Instagram post from Danneel. 

It was a picture of the kids and Jensen. She captioned it with “We are really missing daddy right now. First birthday in a few years we won’t get to spend with him. We love you and can’t wait to celebrate when we come to see you.” 

I felt my heart ache. The guilt and weight of our infidelity hung heavy over me and in my heart. 

Jensen’s birthday was in two days. I had planned to cook dinner for him and bake him a cake, but now I’m not sure he’d want that. Her post made me second guess everything. Were they still in love? Were they working it out? Was I just a way for him to pass the time when he was away from her? 

I sent him a message to tell him I was home and he replied he was on his way. 

About 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see Jensen standing there looking absolutely incredible. 

“Hey sweetheart. You look beautiful.” I smiled, “You’re looking pretty good yourself there Ackles.” 

He pulled me in for a hug and pushed me into the apartment, closing the door with his foot. 

His lips crashed on mine in a heated kiss and I moaned in his mouth. When we pulled apart Jensen cupped my face, “God I missed you.” “I missed you too, Jensen.” 

I turned to walk away and he took my hand, “Hey, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t look at him. The post from Danneel, my marriage falling apart, my feelings for him all became too much. The tears I held back started to fall. 

“Hey, shh, what’s wrong sweetheart, talk to me. Please.” His fingers tilted my chin up to look at him. 

Looking in his green eyes made my heart flutter and ache at the same time. “I don’t know what to do, Jensen. I made him leave. We’re done. This, what we have is becoming too much. Jensen, I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, but I fell in love with you. I know you have D, love her and the kids, hell I get it. You have a perfect wife and children, a perfect life and then you have me. I think I need to take a step back from us. You and D deserve a chance to fix whatever pushed you into my arms. I think you should go.” 

Jensen stood there looking at me, wiping the tears that fell. “Baby, don’t say that. D and I aren’t in a good place. We’ve talked about divorce. Neither one of us is happy. Please, baby, don’t push me away.” “Jensen, talking about divorce and splitting up are two very different things. I love you Jensen, but I can’t keep doing this. I saw her Instagram post. I know I’m just the other woman.” 

He nodded, wiped the tears that fell and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I know, and for what it’s worth, I love you too. You’re not the other woman, you’re my world, but I understand.” Then he walked out the door. 

I collapsed in the chair and sobbed. I was so utterly alone. I cried so hard I started vomiting and couldn’t stop. 

After crying all I could, and emptying all the contents of my stomach, I curled on the couch and looked through the photos on my phone. The ones of Jensen and I, the stolen moments we spent with each other. Jensen was the love of my life and I made him leave. The hole in my heart grew. 

Our first day back on set was Jensen’s birthday. The cast and crew sang Happy Birthday, made him a cake, and planned a dinner to celebrate. I stood in the back of the sound stage and watched him smile and thank everyone for their wishes. 

One of the other writers came up to me, “Hey, Y/N, you okay?” “Yeah, just feeling a little under the weather. Figured I’d stand over here in case I’m contagious.” I chuckled lightly. 

“Are you coming out tonight for Jensen’s birthday dinner?” “I don’t know. I think I’m going to head home and sleep for a bit. If I start feeling better then I might.” 

She nodded, placed a hand on my shoulder and left. When I looked up I made eye contact with Jensen. He smiled softly, but I turned and walked away. 

I couldn’t shake the sickness, and I was starting to get concerned. I’d been sick for weeks. At first I chalked it up to stress, but this felt different. I felt different. 

Then Jensen’s voice echoed in my head, “I’m gonna fuck a baby into this pussy. Let everyone know who you belong to.” 

Did I, could I… All I could think about was the night at the party. We’d always been so careful, even afterwards. That night however, Jensen didn’t use protection. 

On my way home I stopped at the store and grabbed 3 different tests just to be sure. 

Once in the safety of my apartment I carefully read the instructions for each test. Stepping into the bathroom I took each test and laid them on the counter. 

I nervously paced and my head spun with different scenarios. I knew if I was pregnant the baby was Jensen’s. My husband hadn’t touched me since before Halloween, and Jensen was the only other person I had been with. 

My heart hammered in my chest. What would I do if I was pregnant? Would Jensen even want the baby? Would I? 

The timer went off and I looked at the tests. The first test, two lines. The second test, a line and plus sign. The final test is just one word “pregnant”. 

My breath hitched. My hands were shaking and I felt the bile rise in my throat. 

“Oh my god.” I whispered. “What am I going to do?” I stood in the bathroom staring at the three tests. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had just left my husband, and made Jensen leave. I was completely alone. 

My phone went off with a notification, it was a text from Libby, another co-worker.

Libby: Girl, you need to come out tonight. It’s going to be so much fun. I know something is wrong, but nothing a little alcohol can’t fix. 

I chuckled a little, and touched my belly, “That’s what you think.”

Me: I’ll be there. Not sure about the alcohol, still not feeling great, but I’ll be there.

Libby: Great! I’ll save you a seat. See you later. 

I jumped in the shower, the tests still sitting on the counter. A reminder of what hung heavy over me. 

I got ready and headed to the restaurant. When I walked in I was ushered to a back room where the party was going on. I heard Jensen’s laugh before I even stepped in the room. 

Libby saw me and walked over, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” I nodded and smiled. I walked over to the bar and asked for a glass of water. As I turned I made eye contact with Jensen from across the room. 

His smile grew when he saw me. I smiled back and turned away. I couldn’t look at him. The secret I carried in me was too much.

We all took our seats at the table, and I was directed to sit next to Eric, who was sitting near Jensen. I looked over at the empty chair, Of course it’s right beside Jensen. 

I took my seat and took a deep breath. I looked over at Jensen, my voice shaky, “Happy Birthday, Jensen. I hope you get everything you wish for.” He leaned in and hugged me, whispering in my ear, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” As he pulled back he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. 

My breath hitched. 

Throughout the dinner, Jensen’s hand rested on my thigh. When he first put it down I looked over at him and he started to move it, but I placed my hand on his. He left it. 

I realized sitting next to him he had a right to know. I needed to tell him. I excused myself and went to the restroom. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. 

Me: Hey, I think we should talk. Want to come by later?

Jensen: Absolutely. Thank you baby.

Me: Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure you’re going to be happy with what I need to tell you.

Jensen: There isn’t anything you can tell me that’s going to upset me. Well, except you never want to see me again. 

Me: Okay, well after this, come over so we can talk. 

Jensen: I’ll be there sweetheart.

I went back to the table. About an hour later we were saying our goodbyes and I headed home. 

Ten minutes later Jensen was at my door. “Hey, beautiful.” “Hey, Jens. Come on in.” 

He walked in. I half expected him to kiss me like he always did when he walked in, but he didn’t. I felt a pang of sadness rush through my body.

I motioned to the couch, “Want to have a seat?” He nodded, shrugged off his jacket and sat down. 

“Jensen, I, um, don’t know how to start this conversation.” Jensen took my hand, “Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can tell me. No matter what, I love you.”

My breath hitched, “I love you too Jensen, this is so hard. I do love you. So much, and I want to be with you. This is just so damn complicated.” 

“Baby, I want to be with you too. I know everything is complicated.” I shook my head, “No, Jensen. I’ve just complicated things more.” 

Jensen looked confused, “Baby, no you haven’t.” I swallowed hard, feeling like I was going to vomit.

“Jensen, I’m pregnant.” The words just slipped out faster than I’d expected. He sat stunned. “What? Are you sure?” I nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I took 3 tests and I realized I haven’t had my cycle in over 2 months. I know it’s yours too.” 

He just sat there and looked at me. I was terrified. The longer the silence between us stretched on, the more my anxiety ran through every scenario it could. 

I couldn’t take the silence any longer, “Jensen. I don’t expect anything from you. I just thought you should know. Nobody will know you’re the father. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

I just sobbed. His silence hurt me more than if he told me he didn’t want the baby. 

His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me close to him, “Shh baby. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We did this, we made this baby together. I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I love this baby. We’re having a baby.” 

He pulled me on his lap and kissed my lips. 

When I leaned back I looked in his eyes. They were full of love and excitement. “You’re not mad?” 

He cupped my face, “Mad? Why would I be mad, baby? I remember telling you at the New Years Eve party I wanted to put a baby in you. Well, I guess I did.” He chuckled. 

“Jensen, what about D?” “We’ve decided to move forward with the divorce. We don’t want to stay together just for the kids and end up hating each other. Baby, you don’t worry about her. You need to keep yourself stress free and healthy for the baby.” He placed his hand on my belly. “How the hell did I get so lucky? I found the love of my life and we’re having a baby.” 

He pulled me to his lips and kissed me softly. His hands trailed up my body and into my hair. He pulled me in deeper as his tongue fought for dominance in my mouth. 

I felt my arousal pooling between my legs. His hands digging into the flesh of my hips, pulling me down onto him. 

Our moans filled the apartment. “Jens take me to our room.” 

He smiled against my mouth, “Yes ma’am.” He lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I protested the whole way. 

He laughed and when we went to the room he gently laid me on the bed. 

As he stood back he looked down at me, “you’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart. I can’t believe we’re having a baby.” 

Before we made love he stopped and chuckled, “Guess we don’t need protection, do we?” I laughed, “No, I guess not.” We made love like it was the first time. 

Everything that weighed us down was gone. The things that kept us separated, gone. Laying in his arms I felt safe and loved. 

“Thank you sweetheart. Thank you for letting me come over and for giving me the best birthday gift ever.” He placed his hand on my belly and kissed my lips. 

“You’re welcome, Jensen. Happy Birthday, baby. I love you.” “I love you too, Darlin.” 

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[death-rebirth-senshi]

I think Malenia's grab throw and impale you attack is cool but waterfowl still feels goofy to me idk