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goldengalore · 20 days

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Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #anxious!reader #my writing

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heartpiratedrabbles · 1 month

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Indifference Part 2

Part 1 ~~

Sanji X Fem Reader

Sanji let to door shut behind him as soon as Chopper said you were stable. Heading to the edge of the deck to lean over the railing, the sun long gone and the only light coming from the stars in the sky. He grabbed a cigarette and his lighter, his hands noticeably shaking as he brings the items closer to his mouth.

His eyes were dazed over as he attempted to light the nicotine in his fingers, wanting any sort of comfort compared to what just happened the past few hours. Finally succeeding he breathe in the sweet release as smoke fills his lungs. The feeling grounding him ever so slightly as he lets his head fall, staring at his hands.

The feeling of warm blood enveloping them as he tried to stop the flow on your back, the transfusions that happened quickly while Chopper got to work stitching the wounds. His hands slowly turning sticky and dry, his shirt covered in the red liquid. And your face, his mind kept replaying the look you had given him just before you fell. The pale, worried, confused face. He didn’t know if you had tried to say something or if you were just trying to breathe, but the last gasps that escaped your lips before falling unconscious haunted his mind.

His throat tightened slightly as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the open water below him, quickly lighting another while trying not to clench his teeth. How did no one notice? What happened that your back was targeted? His hands clenched the railing underneath him; how didn’t he realize you had been hurt?

During the fight he had been so focused on not looking at you. Deciding instead to focus on beating more marines than Zoro. Didn’t you cry out for help? Why was your back undefended? Wasn’t anyone fighting with you?

~~~

You woke up the next day with Chopper fretting over you. Crying and yelling at you for not telling him you had gotten hurt. In the corner of the room, you could see bloody bandages piled into the bin, the lights just slightly too bright for your liking as you attempt to sit up. “What do you think you’re doing?! You need to rest,” Chopper ran back over to you, pushing you down as he heard you wincing.

“It can’t be that bad…” You mumble trying to think back to the moments before you passed out. It was difficult to think of anything at the moment, your throat was dry and your body felt heavier than normal.

“Not that bad? You nearly died!” Chopper cried, lecturing you while you stopped listening. The scolding voice going in one ear and out the other as you glance around the room. The reindeer fretting over every movement as he checked over you again.

“I’m alive.” Your voice was re-assuring as you placed a hand on his shoulder. Even with such a small movement you could tell how tired your body was. “I hope I didn’t cause to much trouble Chopper.” You attempt to smile and it seems to cause the cotton-candy lover to cry. The water works coming out as he yells about how worried he was.

Robin is the first one to enter the room upon the commotion being heard. Giving you a bowl of soup, “You gave us quite a scare back there.” And just like that everyone visited you as time went on. Never being alone but also not being allowed to get up when you want.

This biggest thing you noticed though was the lack of Sanji. You could hear him through the wall, prepping food and yelling at crewmates sneaking a taste. Yet he’d never made his way in to check on you like the others. The aching pain in your back almost feeling good compared to your heavy heart.

~~~

Sanji kept replaying that night in his head. Or really that day. Maybe the past few weeks. His heart sinking further into a pit as his thought about what he could have done differently, what would have been better if he had handled the situation better.

He never meant to grow feelings for you, and when he felt his heart beat faster, he had thought it was the cigarettes catching up to him. Your cute voice filling his usually empty kitchen as you insisted on helping him. It’s not that no one else offered, it’s that you were just insistent on coming. And who was he to turn a pretty lady away?

As time passed, he started trusting you with more and more. His normally quiet evenings filled with meal prepping turning into spending time with you. Telling stories of adventures you had had, without the other. Soon enough he had you tasting his food prematurely, something he hadn’t done before, something only Zeff had the pleasure of doing as he honed his skills. He wasn’t sure why but watching as truly taste his food, putting in your thoughts for potential seasonings filled him with joy.

Even when your alone time together was interrupted, he was more than happy that you were able to fend off the main course while he fixed the others a quick snack. Making sure Luffy didn’t get too many bites of the unfinished food.

And of course, he noticed how you would sneak candy out of the kitchen for Chopper. It was his duty to make sure everyone had a well-balanced nutritious diet, and while he’d scold you from time to time, he always made sure to leave the healthier candy in a easy hiding spot.

Your laugh was another thing, your voice like angels singing in his ears as he drew closer with snacks prepared specifically with you in mind. The appreciative look on your face as you’d take the item from his trey sending him over the edge.

But that’s the thing. His heart racing was normal. Any women that walked by made him shudder, yet there you were. Seemingly making his heart race to the moon, faster than he’d ever felt it. The almost painful beating in his chest making him begrudgingly go to Chopper to make sure he wasn’t getting sick.

His shock when Chopper said he was as healthy as ever, going on his normal spiel to cut back on smoking but that the moment nothing had changed. It took him another week or two to realize what was causing the increased heart rate. You had been talking to Zoro, laughing with a smile on your face, and all Sanji could feel while watching from afar was a pained beat hammering away.

He thought he knew what love was. But clearly, he was in fresh waters when it came to you. And despite his bravado, his chivalrous behaviors and language of love, he was scared. Zeff had only ever taught him how to treat a lady, Sanji would see women come and go, but none that held onto his adoptive fathers’ hand for long. And Judge hadn’t a paternal bone in his body when it came to giving advice for the few years Sanji had spent with him. For once, he felt completely unprepared.

As Sanji smokes the last of his cigarettes, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tossing the empty carton to the side as he starts to chew on his thumb nail instead. His mind twirling with how he should have dealt with his own feelings differently.

His decision to stay away came hard to him. His heart telling him to follow you to the ends of the world, yet the pain in his chest of being truly rejected, turned down by the first person he’s truly wanted stopped him from pursuing you. He made a conscious effort to stay away as much as possible, but still believing your cooking time together could be his own secret heaven.

But as time went on, he realized your reactions to him, your delightful noises when you’d finish a task, your happy laughter filling the air of his kitchen, was making him day dream more. The seemingly secret rendezvous in his mind taking precedent in his every waking moment, getting distracted through out the day until you’d find him in the kitchen once again.

And so, he started to actively ignore you in the kitchen too. Maybe, if he stopped talking to you, his feelings would settle down and his feet would stop turning cold. It worked for a while; his heart settled as it didn’t hear your delightful tones ringing through the air.

Yet it didn’t last for long. The more measures he put in place to stop his feelings from growing, the more he seemed to fall. So, he swallowed the lump in his throat that fateful day. Not turning to you as you entered the kitchen to help him once again. He uttered those words without looking at you. He knew if he saw you, his resolve would break. His back was tense, waiting for a response from you, and yet it never came.

Instead, he heard your feet shuffle away, the door closing behind you as you didn’t utter a single word to him. And somehow, that hurt worse than any rejection Sanji had expected. Anger, confusion, anything, but silence? He grits his teeth as his heart pounded like never before, praying that it’d settle down soon, that these feelings he’d never known before would disappear without a trace.

Sanji bites his thumb, snapping himself out of his thoughts as he stared out into the ocean. He didn’t want to remember the fight with the marines. He didn’t want to remember the trail of blood, leading him to your pale face. He didn’t want to remember as his hands became drenched in your blood, your body turning cold underneath him as Chopper fixed you up. He didn’t want to remember how close you had come to deaths door before you finally turned around to dance on the fence of the afterlife and the living realm.

“Sanji…” The voice he had dreaded hearing called out to him, anchoring him to the present, the now, as you stood staring at him with some concern in your eyes. His heart froze, seeing you standing, walking, talking felt like a miracle that made it feel like he could breathe again. “I guess I should thank you,” You laugh out lowly, ignoring the own pain in your heart.

Sanji’s heart sank, your laugh sounded empty and bare, it wasn’t you. He focused on your body, it was too frail, too pale for your complexion as you stood there. “I didn’t think my wounds were that bad…” You trailed off, making light of your own injuries despite your back now littered with stitches soon to be deep scars.

Sanji’s blood ran cold as you continued to awkwardly joke about the situation, your way to cope with nearly losing your life. You still felt a little light headed when you came out to get fresh air, your breath being taken away when you saw Sanji, and you couldn’t stop yourself before you started talking. And now it seemed as those you couldn’t stop talking, dry laughter leaving your mouth as you attempt to get the man in front of you to speak a single word to you.

Then, without a second passing, arms were wrapped around you. A tight, yet careful squeeze holding you in place as Sanji buried your face into his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. The sudden embraced shut you up, you breathe caught in your throat and your mind going blank as heavy emotions hit you, yet time felt still.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji whispered, only audible to you, “I…” Sanji choked on his words, his chest jumped a bit as though choking back a sob, unspoken words being conveyed from his actions as tears finally fall down your face. A small wail erupting from your throat as you pressed your face into his dress shirt, your hands bawling the fabric of his shirt as you cried. His soothing hands holding you as you finally let your emotions out into the man you trust the most on the crew.

Tag List: @crocodilethesir @ultraviolencezs @littleleelee @akaashi-todorki @cynwing @tinyweebsstuff @someobsessionrequired @vvyeislazzy @mk-and-her-reblogs @suga-tofu @random-iix @peachycat17 @atinymonbebestay @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction @69cocktimusprime @secretlife028 @bankaixx

#Sanji #Sanji X Reader #Sanji X Fem Reader #One Piece #One Piece Angst #One Piece X Reader #Angst #Part 2

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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago.

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance…

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that.

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you.

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back.

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!”

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you.

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs.

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s.

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean.

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway.

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone.

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up.

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention.

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him.

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall.

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin.

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least.

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

“I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay.

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were.

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control.

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise.

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help.

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How?

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then.

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head.

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly.

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him.

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones.

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away.

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why.

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed.

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard.

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that.

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called.

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met.

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning.

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning:

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile.

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam.

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same.

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently.

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules. Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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Ignored

summary: after neteyam has to take training more seriously to be the future clan leader, he ignores y/n leaving her upset and angry at the sully boy.

1.5k words, fem!omaticaya reader

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

You knew that Neteyam’s duties would eventually trump you, but you didn’t think it would happen oh so fast. It had been a month since Neteyam started properly training to become a warrior. A true member of the Omaticaya, and you felt his absence abruptly.

It wasn’t like he was gone often, but it meant the special moments he usually spent with you, were spent flying with his parents, learning to shoot and be an agile hunter both on foot and in the air.

You missed the moments where he would take you to his favourite trees and climb to the top, to sit and talk for hours. The moments where you both would go to the waterfalls to swim on a sweltering day. You missed the moments with him.

No one else felt it like you. You acted as if he had died and Lo’ak told you that bluntly. But they just didn’t understand, it wasn’t that you missed him, it felt as if he was ignoring you.

He told you he’d start training, and nothing would change, he’d still spend time with you. What a fucking liar.

Walking out to his favourite tree you felt the breeze against your face. The way it cooled down your body it also cooled down the anger you felt within your bones.

Because you were mad at him, and mad at the way you missed him because of something so dismal like not being able to hangout with you in the afternoon. You knew the reason you missed him so much was because you secretly craved him. You secretly hoped he thought of you more as a lover than a friend but he was beginning to treat you as nothing more and it ached.

It ached through your muscles, your organs, your bones, your body was sore with the pain Neteyam was creating in your heart with his absence.

Sitting on the top of the large tree you both usually sat on you felt the tears well in your eyes. You told yourself it was the harsh breeze making your eyes water but even you didn’t believe yourself. Closing your eyes, you laid on were a large branch connected to the trunk. It was peaceful up there. Listening to the sounds of Eywa’s creations made you feel calm.

Calm enough to let your emotions loose. The emotions you’d try to bottle into menial anger and pettiness, but the feelings were deep, they were gut wrenching. You cursed yourself for crying over him, but what were you to do. You loved this man, and he was off leaving you to love alone.

If Neteyam knew that you were crying over him he’d fall onto his knees and grasp onto you while he begged for forgiveness. He loved you so much, so so much.

He knew that his time spent away from you was hurting you especially when he had a specific conversation with Lo’ak only a week ago.

“Bro I literally am begging you to see Y/N.” He was confused when Lo’ak came into the tent grumbling and groaning about you.

“What do you mean?” Confusion painting his features.

“Bro she acts as if your dead, like your out training for a couple of hours and she goes all crazy. ‘Have you seen Neteyam, What’s Neteyam up to?, Is Neteyam doing alright? Neteyam Neteyam Neteyam blah blah blah.’ You have to hangout with her at some point before she hunts you down while your training.” He made little voices and hand movements while mimicking your queries about Neteyam.

He couldn’t deny the guilt he felt for ignoring you so much, but he also couldn’t help but blush at the way you were constantly thinking about him.

Reminiscing back on that conversation with Lo’ak, Neteyam made time today with his father’s permission to not train today to spend it all with you. Walking towards you’re tent he realised you weren’t there.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked your mother who was sitting down busy making a herbal mix.

“She said she was going to the forest.” Neteyam thanked her and headed out to where he assumed you’d be. He hoped you’d be there.

He couldn’t deny he’d seen you less. He was just so busy, training, going on raids and still having to babysit his siblings he was so tired.

All he wished was to spend a day with you in his arms and forget about the burdens on his shoulders as you washed them away with your caring words.

Neteyam continued to go to his tree, he spotted a blue figure resting in the seat on the trunk and smiled to himself knowing it was you. Jumping from branch to branch with ease he began to climb, the noise startling you.

Noticing the noise, you looked down noticing Neteyam. Wait. Neteyam?!

He couldn’t see you like this. Your face snotty and tearstained, your eyes puffy and wet. For someone who’s been craving him for a month all you want now is to jump out of the tree headfirst and avoid him like the plague.

“Y/N! I found you.” He cheered but his smile dropped when you turned around to avoiding looking at him. “Y/N?” he called for you again now reaching the part of the tree where you sat.

“Shouldn’t you be training?” You didn’t mean for it to come out so mean but it did. Your voice was dripping in venom, but it still couldn’t hide the sniffles and you subtly wiping your eyes.

“Are you crying?”

“No”

“You’re a liar.” He chuckled but that word it flicked a switch in you. Liar. He was the fucking liar.

“You’re the liar Neteyam!” You turned to him revealing your tear-stricken face. His face seeped concern as you yelled at him with such raw undeniable emotion in your voice.

“I don’t understand.” He quietly said resting a hand on your damp cheek before you moved your face away from his touch.

“You’ve forgotten about me. You said- You said nothing would change! You’re a liar Neteyam! You told me that we would spend time together. You’ve forgotten about me and I’m just a friend to you Neteyam. A friend to talk to once a month to still feel like you are friends. I can’t do that Neteyam.”

He was dumbstruck he didn’t think Lo’ak was lying but he did think he was over exaggerating your calls about him. He felt dumb, how dumb to make the woman he loved feel so unattended to, so unloved. He felt like an idiot watching your heart crumble in front of him due to him piercing through it.

Before he could talk in response your mouth was open ready to fire a verbal assault at him.

“I can’t be without your presence so long, and I feel like a dumb idiot because I’m crying over some fucking boy who can’t give me the time of day. But I want you so much Neteyam, I beckon with Eywa everyday to have you brought to me like you were before. I want you in my bones and you have ignored me. It drives me so insane.” You yell at him rage on full display like a painting in a museum for millions to view and stare in awe.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I beg of you to forgive me.” He turned his body to face you fully. Using both his hands to cradle your face he stared deep into your pained eyes.

“You are no idiot, I am. For treating someone I treasure so deeply like this. I promise my dismissal of you was not my intention. I would never intend on avoiding you. You are my rock and my world, I build my life around you, my hopes, my dreams they all contain you. Please don’t think you are just a friend to me because if I had to treat you as just a friend I’d go crazy.”

“Y/N I see you”

Neteyam was starting to tear up as you cried into his palms. Crying harder now as you processed his words you crashed into his warm chest. Yu were tired, tired of crying, tired of worrying, tired of hoping. You just wanted to feel at home and home right now was Neteyam’s embrace.

Feeling your weight on top of him he wrapped his arms around you tightly. So tightly his arms hurt but he didn’t care. He peppered the top of your head with kisses while you sniffled into his chest. Soothing hands ran down your back as you wept into him.

“You’re such a dickhead.” You mumbled into his chest letting out a breathy laughed followed by a small sob. As sad as you were right in this moment you never wanted to let go of the feeling of being in his arms.

“I’ll be your dickhead.” He smiled down at you continuing to hold you in his arms.

And he was sure to never let you out of arms reach again.

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: i missed writing for neteyam so i whipped this up. it lowkey might be my fav fic. hope you enjoy!

#neteyam oneshot #avatar #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam angst #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam scenario #neteyam imagine #lo'ak #neteyam sully #avatar oneshot #avatar 2 fanfic #oneshot #imagine #fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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topmalereaderblog · 5 months

Text

Five More Minutes // Miguel O'Hara

Breathe the air again, it's a beautiful day

I wish this moment would stay with the Earth

Some primal paradise

But there you go again, saying everything ends

Saying you can't depend on anything or anyone

When there is creation, there is destruction, life, and death. The universe has a balance, and when disrupted, it collapses, taking away everything and anything with it, leaving nothing but a blank void.

But Miguel didn’t know that, how was he supposed to. He wasn’t thinking straight, he wasn’t thinking with his brain but with his emotions the same emotions that kept him grieving the same, emotions that made him cry himself to sleep. He had lost everything in his world and was left with nothing. Living a lonely life, but then.

Then there was hope, hope that showed up in another universe, a universe where his husband was alive and they were happy. He was happy. He had a family, a father to a little girl, married to the love he had lost.

His thoughts consumed him, plagued him, and haunted him. Five minutes, that was his most recurring thought. Five minutes is all he needed, five minutes to act like another version of himself, five minutes to hold you and tell you he loves you one last time, five minutes to get to know the daughter he never had even if it was just a little bit.

But he couldn’t, the guilt eating him alive, the pain in his chest swallowing him and consuming him every day. But he couldn’t, it would hurt too much to go and then leave. Going back to his life a life where you weren't there and he was alone.

If the end of the world was near

Where would you choose to be?

If there were five more minutes of air

Would you panic and hide

Or run for your life

Or stand here and spend it with me

If we had five more minutes

Would I, could I, make you happy?

He did everything he could to distract himself while keeping an eye on the other version of himself the pain in his chest filling with hurt and jealousy. Instead, he waited, watched, and observed. Miguel questioned if this version of you would fall in love with him too if he could make you happy. Soon.

His opportunity arose when the version of himself that he grew jealous of died. Shot in the chest and left alone on a sidewalk. He felt guilty but relieved he knew his thoughts were sick when he felt a sense of relief wash over him but sad that the version of himself that was happy died. But it was his turn to be happy to play a role and act as another, taking the place of another as if nothing were wrong.

He was nervous. But as he walked into the house the thoughts in his mind crashed seeing you again. His heart skipped beats you- you’re his love, and you were back alive standing in front of him. A warm feeling spread around his body.

Five minutes, that's what he told himself, having a home dinner with you and Gabriella talking and enjoying the moment, a moment that soon turned into five days, then five months. Distracted with his own selfishness, happiness, greed, and lust.

And we would live again

In the simplest of ways

Living day after day

Like some primal animals

We would love again

Under glorious suns

With the freedom that comes with the truth

His brain couldn't function, and his senses were overwhelmed. His body felt hot sweat beading down and sticking to his body. His ears filled with your grunts as you thrust up inside him while simultaneously hearing the bed creek.

His hole stretched around you so perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece being filled and abused. His tight warmth sucking you inside as if trying to keep you inside him. His prostate was hit multiple times with every thrust you gave.

Grunts turned into sweet talk, your hot breath near his ear sending goosebumps all over his body.

"You like this Miguel- like me fucking you." You asked, watching as his whimpers and moans increased.

"Por favor no pares-," his legs wrapped around you, his hands feeling up and down your body as if making sure you were real, making sure you wouldn’t go anywhere.

Your thrust went faster and harder plunging into Miguel. His cock bounced with your thrust being neglected by stimulation leaking precum onto his stomach.

Your lips and hands wandered his body as words of praise fell from your mouth.

"You are such a good husband for me, fuck~ you're taking me so well," his hole tightened against your cock as he pressed his chest onto yours.

Your hands worshiped his body, treating it like porcelain. Go near the spot where he needed your touch the most but never fully.

"P- please." He gasped just a little more he needed this needed you to fuck him and worship him to take the guilt he had and make him forget even if it was for a little while.

A moan left his mouth as your hand grabbed his aching cock moving it with your thrust. "Come on baby cum with me."

And all too soon enough you came inside his reaching deep within him as your cum painted his hole. He bit your shoulder moaning and cumming with you as his thighs shook by the intense orgasm.

Was it wrong? Possibly, maybe, definitely. It's been five minutes since you fell asleep after another passionate night with Miguel.

How- why, why should something so wrong feel so right? He knew he had to give up the act, but nights like these, where you both could show your love for one another was something he lost, and now that you were back he didn't want it to leave.

You were his husband, his true love, and while he lost you in one world, you were here with him in another.

Nights where you would fuck Miguel were always his favorites. It was the time when he didn't care if he was right or wrong or crazy or sane he was with you and those thoughts that plagued him left his brain with every thrust every word his mind went numb.

If the end of the world was near

Where would you choose to be?

If there were five more minutes of air

Would you panic and hide?

Or run for your life?

Or stand here and spend it with me?

If we had five more minutes

Would I, could I, make you happy?

But then it happened again after spending the day with you and Gabriella. Something weird happened, everything around you started to crumble and disintegrate. He ran, holding onto you and Gabriella. Not again. He wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose his new life, his new daughter, not now.

As he ran, Gabriella disappeared in his arms. He turned around, holding onto you tightly around your wrist.

"Miguel!"

"Well, be safe. We have to run." He said, not looking back. Tears fell from his face, sliding down his cheek. Five minutes and everything went quiet. He turned around only to see he was alone.

And with that, Miguel was alone again. He stood there sobbing and falling onto his knees for five whole minutes he sobbed but recomposed himself, trying to figure out what to do. Five minutes had passed, and the only thought on his mind was that he was back to square one alone and by himself.

So it finally came to pass

I saw the end of the world

Saw the madness unfold like

Some primal burial

And I looked back upon

Armageddon

And the moment of truth

Between you and me

Five years have passed and a lot has changed. He created his own organization filled with other spider people, each with their own story.

Then hope arose again a new spider person not just any but you, his mind went blank seeing the screen in front of him. Wearing a suit and taking out bad guys. Was this the universe's way of giving him a second chance? Were you made just for him? Did you have your own version of him? If so, could he take them out just like the last time?

The last thought in his mind echoed in his head. This time, it would be different, just five minutes. And with that, he opened a portal and stepped inside. Leaving his lab and getting ready to (stalk) recruit a new spider.

If we had five more minutes of air to breathe

And we cried all through it

But you spent them with me

On our last few drags of air, we agreed

I was, and you were happy

#dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #male reader smut #x male reader #x male reader smut #male reader fanfic #male reader insert #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x top male reader

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huboi · 3 months

Text

“it wasn’t your fault”

[muzan kibutusuji, kokushibo and akaza x gn! reader]

╰┈➤ includes; mentions of r*pe, self loathing, death (not reader), please note this is a triggering topic so readers’ discretion is advised

╰┈➤ extras; this was a request, sadly I can’t tag them cause tumblrs’ being a bitch about it so I just hope that the requester comes across this

╰┈➤ a/n; it’s important to note I haven’t dealt with anything like this personally, so apologies if this doesn’t seem realistic or is badly done, I will try my damndest to be as respectful as possible with this fic

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

muzan kibutusuji

yes, he’s a demon, not just any demon but the king of demons, which certainly means he cares for no one, especially not a human of all things right?

wrong

muzan originally planned on turning you, when something in his dead heart jumped for joy at the sight of your face, he just couldn’t turn you

and so he protected you when needed and eventually you ended up dating

one thing he noticed is that whenever he goes to touch or kiss you etc. you seem to back off or hesitate, you believe he doesn’t notice but he does

he’s also noticed you tend to cover your body 24/7 with baggy clothing and never wear short sleeved shirts or shorts

when he confronted you about it, you just burst into tears, thinking he would dump you or blame you for what they did to your body

with a comforting embrace, and some time to mull it over, you decided to tell him what happened

muzan was furious to say the least, not at you, never, he was furious at the disgusting person who dared to lay their filthy hands on you without your consent

he gives you little kisses on your face (with consent of course) and hugs you close whilst assuring you “it’s not your fault”

later on when he was sure you were fast asleep, he took care of a certain someone

safe to say that that person will never touch you again

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

kokushibo

it’s pretty obvious he’s a demon

so as soon as you guys crossed paths, you could tell he wasn’t human by his face alone

at first you were worried he was gonna hurt you, but he simply shrugged and explained how he doesn’t bother killing people unless necessary

somehow you guys ended up in a relationship and bam!

you’re one of the most protected people in Japan

kokushibos’ weary eyes couldn’t help but notice your hesitancy towards his intimate advances, no matter how simple

he could also tell you held some sort of self hatred towards yourself, as he had been in your position hundreds of years ago

he brings it up one afternoon, explaining how he wants to make sure you’re both comfortable in the relationship

you hesitantly give him the answer, expecting for him to kill you on the spot

only for the usually stoic demon to wrap you into a tight hug, arms trembling and face contorted in anger

“it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong” he seethed, before asking if you remember what they look like

after giving him a brief description of them he was off in a flash, seemingly teleporting to god knows where

the person trembled, cowering into a corner begging for their life to be spared, kokushibo simply unsheathing his sword and landing cuts all over them so he can bleed out slowly and die from the blood loss

when coming back from his deeds, kokushibo saw you in bed wrapped up in the blanket, he simply climbed in after you and hugged you from behind

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

akaza

definitely the most angry out of all three demons

he will hunt everywhere for this person and won’t take a break until he finds them and breaks them himself

when he does come across this ‘human’, he will personally punch him so that he dies from a slow painful death

when coming back to you, akaza will simply be there for you throughout the healing process/trauma

he hates how the monster caused you so much trauma

akaza is always there for you if you want to vent or talk about your feelings

if anything like that ever happens again, tell him, he’ll be there for you and will also personally deal with the monster that did this to you

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

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houpss · 2 months

Note

Dawg I’m actually begging crying on my knees for you to do a reverse version where like reader dies protecting skz 😭😭😭 ofc obvi no pressure, like only if you’d like to 🙏🏻🩷 you write so well im like obsessed

ububububu.....I'm very pleased to hear this! thanks for the idea, love 🩷🫂

I'm eating strawberries and crying, I literally feel bad about this job 😭😭😭

SKZ's reaction to your death ver. hyung line

maknae line

It pains me to write this work, my heart breaks and I begin to believe in this nonsense... BUT REMEMBER THAT ONLY PERSONALITIES ARE TAKEN FROM THE REAL SKZ, EVERYTHING REST IS FICTION!

Bang Chan

It happened...suddenly.

Chan returned home before you, he wanted to cook you dinner and then turn on a new movie that he recently found.

He knew that you were stuck at work, so he wasn’t too worried.

An hour has passed... you're gone, but you should be back by now. Two hours have passed, Chan is nervous.

He called you, you didn’t pick up, he called you so many times, but you didn’t hear.

At two o'clock in the morning he receives a call on his phone. He jumps out of bed, hoping it's you calling, but it's just an unfamiliar number.

He picks up the phone, he just hopes you're okay.

"Are you Bang Christopher Chan? I'm sorry..Y/N Bang died."

Chan thought it was a joke, a very unfunny joke.

He can only come to consciousness when he sees your body. Road accident, you didn't survive.

He will ask Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin to come out quite aggressively, because they came with him.

He ran his fingers over your pale face, tears forming in his eyes. Impossible.

He strokes your hair, strokes your hands, stopping at your fingers...he squeezes your hand tightly. Why did you leave him?

Tears fall on your lifeless body, you would be very upset if you saw Chan crying.

They can only drag him out of your room in the morning, he didn’t want to let go of your body until the end, it was like he was possessed.

"No, don't take me...I have to stay with her! I don't want to be taken away from her"

"she’s probably so cold and scared... she’s alone there, she’s already lifeless.”

He blamed himself, he could have taken you away from work, but why didn’t you ask?

The exit from the hospital is filled with reporters and paparazzi, the shocking news shocked many: “Model and Actress, Bang Chan’s wife Y/N Bang died in a car accident.”

Thanks to the members, they protected Chan from reporters and endless paparazzi. Chan did not walk behind as usual, but in the middle, and a ring was created around the participant.

Chan doesn’t remember anything, he just cried, he cries so much and loudly.

The members refused to leave him, although he asked so. They went to the dorm.

A day has passed... two days have passed... a week has passed. Funeral.

He remembers everything very vaguely, he was the last one to kiss your forehead before the coffin lid was closed.

Now he is completely alone.

He eats very little and hardly leaves the room. Minho literally force feeds him.

Your photos are open on his phone, you are on his wallpaper.

He doesn’t want to live without you, he wants you so much.

His tears never dry, he cries constantly. There are no emotions inside him, he is dead.

He looked through your correspondence... his heart ached madly.

He just loves you so much, he loves only you.

He apologized profusely to your family, it was his fault.

In the end he won't cope and he will leave for you. Chan was found hanged in his room. There was a note on the table with the words: “I can’t live without her, I’m nothing without her... forgive me.”

Lee Minho

People come and go. The simple meaning of life

But you couldn't leave him...not you

If you loved, then you would not have left...WHY DID YOU LEAVE HIM?

Overdose of antidepressants.

He found you in your apartment, you were lying on the bed, wrapped in a blanket... you seemed to be sleeping, but your heart was not beating.

What if he had found you earlier?

He would have stopped you.

He found a letter next to you... your last will and love for him

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤...𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰"

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐨"

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞."

IT'S NOT EASIER WITHOUT YOU

He has been crying for several days in a row. Even the members can't pull it out.

He became so aggressive and closed.

His heart rotted and broke without you

He falls asleep with your sweatshirt on, with your perfume on it.

The company releases a statement that Minho is taking an indefinite hiatus from activities.

He wants to close his eyes, open his eyes and have you next to him.

He went through many treatments with you and visited many psychiatrists.

You smiled at him so much, so what happened?

Minho cried for the first time in front of the members, everyone was broken with your death.

After your death, he smoked for the first time.

The cigarette smoke calmed him down at least a little. And in your dreams you came to him, you talked to him a lot.

He became very closed off to himself, even Jisung couldn’t get him to talk.

Everything and everywhere reminded him of you

Your bottle of perfume...your drawings, your rings, your elastic bands, your sweaters

You would curse if you saw him like this.

Only a month later, after your funeral, he dared to pick up your phone.

To mom, dad and sister: “I’m sorry that I’m so weak.. I would like a better life for you, I wanted to live better and happier. I’m a bad daughter.”

To SKZ:"Sorry...be strong, you are world stars and become even more popular..."

To Minho:"I repent of you, I hate myself for what I did. I have about ten minutes left...And in these ten minutes I will continue to love you, Lee Minho. Maybe we will meet in the next life?"

The emotions he had been holding back burst out.

He screamed, his scream deafening the silence.

Physical pain in his heart pierced him. how the bitch it hurts.

Now he's wearing your big jacket.

“Please protect me, Y/N.”

SEO CHANGBIN

"Police lieutenant Seo Y/N was shot..she died while intercepting a drug gang. The ambulance did not have time to arrive"

What did he just hear? Why are they saying your name?

Is this a mistake? Maybe they got it wrong?

He refused to believe it until he was asked to come to the morgue to identify the body.

Yes, you were lying there...a bullet in the forehead.

Changbin turned away, he couldn’t look at you. He's scared.

Probably then he realized all the pain, he stopped living.

Felix and Seungmin forcibly dragged him away from the morgue.

He was never against your work, he was just proud of you. Of course, his wife is a police lieutenant.

He knew it was dangerous, but could anything bad happen to you?

"Changbin, she died a hero, please...be the same hero for her."

There were so many people at your funeral, why did they all come?

Changbin felt lost, Chan was holding his hand. Changbin couldn't navigate the space.

Time doesn't heal anything, remember.

He lost the desire to exist

He hated your job after your death, it's all your damn job.

Will you protect Changbin? Are you his guardian angel?

From time to time he hears your voice.

He will come to your parents and ask for forgiveness.

Really, forgive him.

He will take your dog with him, it seems... the dog really misses you, where is his owner?

Changbin doesn't like music anymore, he stopped working out, he stopped eating.

"Y/N would be upset if she knew that you wanted to leave the group."

"She told you to create for the sake of people's happiness."

"WITHOUT HER THERE IS NO FUCKING THIS HAPPINESS..."

You would like him to continue writing and working.

He will stay for your sake... and for the sake of the members, these three months they kept him afloat, he literally clung to them.

Your dog now has 8 caring men

Changbin brings red Lilies, your favorite flowers, to your grave every week.

Hwang Hyunjin

You have been married for five years, recently celebrated your anniversary.

You were the happiest couple! STAY blessed couple , the participants were incredibly happy about your couple.

You found out that you are pregnant.

Hyunjin was incredibly happy! Members will become uncles to your baby.

Felix took the place of godfather.

Chan and Minho were responsible for choosing the name.

And Changbin, Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin made rooms for your baby!

But...you had a back injury, which made it dangerous to give birth.

You didn't care, you were going to have the baby.

Difficulties began immediately during contractions, Hyunjin was with you all the time.

He was forced to leave the room in the middle of labor.

The members who were waiting in the corridor were very worried.

Sudden silence.

The doctor came out of the maternity room and said: “Congratulations, you have a daughter... please accept my condolences, your wife has died.”

What?

It sounded so absurd.

Hyunjin walked into your room, you looked so tired...so sad. sad aphrodite.

Hyunjin kissed your forehead, one hand on your neck, the other holding your hand.

"Thank you for daughter...and forgive me, I love you very much"

Tears rolled down Hyunjin's cheeks, the tears were like pearls.

Hyunjin went home with the members.. The workers left your daughter in the hospital for several days.

Hyunjin seemed to understand nothing, he understood absolutely nothing.

"The baby will grow up in love, Hyunjin"

"We will all take care of her..she is an extension of Y/N" These words from Chan hurt Hyunjin's heart...He will protect and love his daughter.

Hyunjin is always crying, his eyes are red, his face is swollen from crying.

It hurt even more when Seungmin brought your favorite coffee.

In three days we could pick up our daughter.

All eight participants went to the maternity hospital.

They brought out a small package for you, what a tiny little thing.

Hyunjin looked at the little baby as if he were the eighth wonder of the world, the girl was sleeping. Hyunjin could have sworn that she would look like you.

"We'll call her Viyoung" Why is this in tune with Vendetta?

The guy nodded approvingly, tears flowing down his cheeks again.

The members took turns holding the bundle with the baby in their hands.

"I will love you so much, Viyoung...just like your mother loved you."

“Your uncles will take care of you...you will grow up with complete love.”

They went home, everything will be fine. Your memory will never fade away. Hyunjin will raise a beautiful daughter. She's a copy of you, but with Hyunjin's eyes.

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comfortless · 3 months

Note

for your consideration, dearest syl: hybrid Flemish giant rabbit!König 🐇💭

flemish giant rabbit hybrid! König x fem, coyote hybrid! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. hybrids: König is (mostly) human! he just has bunny ears and a cute lil tail & the same goes for reader!, kind of dark- mentions of what is essentially cannibalism, violence, scent & breeding kink, dubious consent to everything. please heed the warnings!

hello lil wisp! sorry!! this veered off a bit from what i usually write. there is still some fluff and sweetness here if you squint real hard…

Winter is setting in.

You could feel it on your bare skin, the chill that sweeps past the trees like breath from a ghoul’s rotting throat: something dead and wretched, so cold it steals your breath and halts the blood in your veins. If you weren’t careful, staying ahead of yourself and the rest of the things lurking in the woods, that ivory death would creep up, grab you by the neck and drown you out in the snow.

With the season comes the need to feed. You don’t have the luxury of hibernation settled into the primitive roots of your brain. While everyone else tucks themselves into dens carved out from mountains or beneath the earth, settled in with the roots of vast trees, you’re still left in smothering snow, heavy as the weight of the hunger.

You were born for this, the hunt: to feel your fingernails dig into the fallen leaves and forest debris, curl in carving your name into the earth, bite and rip and tear. “Little coyote,” the birds would call, seated up on tree limbs so, so far above that the sunlight would burn your eyes if you dare to look at them, “let us watch.”

You always put on the show, always stage the fight with grace. A lost, blubbering sheep one day; the wool ‘round her ears dried your throat, her mournful bleating only died down when your teeth found her throat. The canopy above echoed your pride, they were always grateful to have something to scavenge later, whether it be finger or eye or ear; your hunger wasn’t the only that raged out here in the forest.

This winter would have to be your last alone. You could feel the way a life of roaming without pack or anything to settle with had eaten away at not just your body, but that little illusion of a soul somewhere tucked a long way down inside of you.

It would be a simple one, too— drag some creature to your den to keep your flesh warmed and your stomach full, survive this loathsome season and flourish with the spring. When the leaves returned and the lakes thawed, you could settle into some foreign pack. Flash your neck, hide your teeth and hope they wouldn’t rip you apart as you have so many others.

You think to yourself that a deer would do, some meek little doe that would bat her eyelashes and plead that you only wait the winter out with her, curling against you to keep you warm as you keep her safe until finally…

You didn’t like to think about it too much.

As much as the chase and the thrill had a hold on you, thinking about the loss of life, the ghosts that cling to your shoulders and wail, waiting for your turn to join them was far different. You couldn’t fight your nature, but you knew well enough you could never entirely swallow down the guilt that came with it, either.

There was a pain in your legs as you walked, exhaustion that would go unsatisfied until your plan had been laid out proper. It begins to feel dismal when you realize you have not seen another creature in miles, no prints, either. The only thing that brings you any companionship are the first flakes of snow, sifting down from far above, the great bone white and gray of an falsified sea.

You crouch and wait, curling your arms around your midsection as you shiver. Time passes, but you can’t be certain of just how much… mere seconds, maybe hours. The sky gives nothing away.

Now, there’s a rabbit.

You catch the scent of it on the breeze, musky and floral. Poor thing has probably only basked beneath evergreens, lived in sprawling gardens its entire life, kissed the sun and held flaking petals in its hands. So very unlike you who only knows the shade, the blood, and the hunt.

Your charge is determined, the soles of your feet torn and bloodied from angry thorns springing up from the crushed leaves on the cold soil; teeth bared as you hurtle through the brush of dying plant life. Its so close, so terribly close you can already feel the way your teeth will rend its flesh, feel saliva pooling up on the back of your tongue.

Reaching the forest’s edge you spot… him.

The rabbit is huge, stood in the midst of the deadened field with his back turned to you. The tall, decaying grass just barely brushes against the backs of his knees, low hanging fog veiling his face. If not for the puffy, fawn-colored tail situated just past the expanse of the pale, toned back, you would have assumed you were faced with some sort of bear.

This is not your usual prey.

No matter the sharpness of your claws or the ferocity of your bite, you know well enough that someone like this could never be brought down by yourself alone. It’s too risky, even as your belly aches and you itch to be back in the warmth of your den, surrounded by the pelts of the four-legged imitations and the fire roaring in its pit…

Rabbits were simple, at least. You press your face against them and cuddle, whisper sweet things in their ears and they melt, begging to be swallowed whole without any idea that you’ve only ever meant it literally.

You approach him with cautious, gentle steps, allowing your body language to remain open and friendly as you present him with the view of you bare, claws turned inward into your own palms and teeth hidden away by soft, warm lips. Your ears lie back to rest against your head, tail tucked between your thighs: all a display of utter submission, and a trickery that has worked time and time again.

“It’s getting cold..,” you murmur, voice low and as pitiful as it can get. “Will you keep me warm?”

Your rabbit cocks his head at you, one flopped ear lifting in curiosity. And he doesn’t move, doesn’t startle… The poor, stupid thing remains in place as his stare drinks you in, almost adoringly as you pad right up to him. There’s no hope of your faces being level, you merely use that to your advantage, putting on a cute pout and placing your palms flat against his bare chest.

“Ja,” he murmurs, gently coaxing your chin up to look him properly in the eye. Cute prey was easy, but never… never in your life had you found your prey to be handsome. Even with those silly ears bouncing with each cloudy puff of breath he takes, his face is still something of a myth. The old humans would have made statues in his honor from his build alone, but that face would have given him the look of a warrior of myth— brutish, yet charming with the wide grin he gives you when you meet the sea holly color of his irises. “Come here.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease and your shivering immediately ceases, he’s warm like the summer sun.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers into one of your triangular ears, causing it to involuntarily flick from the rush of his breath and press tighter to your skull.

Your intent was to take him to your own den, but as he begins to move it winds up being the opposite; there are mountains, an ice covered stream all laid out before you as he huffs more sweet words in a foreign tongue against your temple. It takes some time to understand that what you had intended to do and what he intends are entirely different. The mouth of a vast cave comes into view right as he dips his head, huffs several breaths against you, panting like a dog.

You’re only dropped when he kneels down to enter the den— his, ripe with the scent of sweat and musk and something floral. The rabbit has supplies stowed away for the winter, an array of preserved food, ample pelts likely stolen away from some other poor creature. He has weapons scattered about, stolen away from what remained of the old humans and their buildings, some sharper and more deadly than even the claws that crest the peeks of your hands. Your heart only plummets… you’re not in the presence of some stupid bunny, but a behemoth.

You begin your protests in a hiss, only to have your lips met with dried fruit, something sweet and red laid out on your tongue that tastes of sugar. He pulls you up and over his lap as he fits you both into the bed of animal skins and feeds you by gently guiding the food to your lips. The only think still spitting and crackling is a fire pit at the center as you allow yourself to somewhat settle.

The rabbit man only hums his contentment against your throat as your back presses to the expanse of chest behind you, and his hands trail away from your mouth, down further until they’re spreading your legs for him. Your pulse races as your eyes map the daggers across the floor down to the fur he’s seated you with him upon.

There’s only a hiss of breath that leaves your lips when his already leaking cock does press against the heat of your core. You don’t fuck prey— that would only spoil it, and you suppose that you are satisfied in knowing that he has no intention of harming you, only filling you with his seed, perhaps even his kits…

As his tip snags at your entrance, he purrs finding you already wet, bared open for him with his hand still steadying your thigh.

“Coyotes mate for life, hm?,” he rasps against the back of your neck, his own thigh trembling with the sheer excitement of the prospect of breeding you, tethering you to him for not only the rest of this winter.

You can hardly bite back the moan as he pushes through your folds again, nudging your bud as he spreads your arousal over the girth of him.

“Answer,” he commands in a sharp whisper, using his free hand to guide your chin up again. And you do, only in a weak nod.

He stuffs you full then, leaves you a panting heap as he repositions you onto your knees and covers you in himself. The furs smell of him, not the animals they’ve come from. Just the scent of lonely nights and a bitter, masculine stench that you whine and whimper into; all while he grunts his approval and praises about your tightness, your warmth, how you look somehow prettier now, capsized in his bed. Even has the audacity to whisper how long he’s watched you dart through the forest and waited for you to come to him as you sink your claws into hay and fur to steady yourself from the punishing pace he sets.

He only seems more fervent and adoring when he brings you to a rapturous bliss, keening whines and and tight praises pulled free from your throat as your cunt drools around him.

“You want kits?,” he purrs behind you, around you, everywhere as his voice lowers to an almost growl with each word spoken. In your trembling state, addled by sheer bliss as his cock soars into you to grind against your deepest places, you’ve barely the mind to refuse him anything. You merely mumble into the fur, something akin to a yes that has him grasping at your hips as though you’re his last tether to life itself.

When he’s finished, your stomach full of fruit and cunt full of him, he whispers into your ear about how the old humans believed in fate. His hands trail over your back, your waist, every curve only to rise and cup your cheek. His ears raise when he kisses you then, tender, as if trying to push his faith that you belong here right past your teeth.

#könig x reader #tw: dubcon

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

moments filled with everything

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to do everything together' AND for @starryeyedjanai's birthday! Happiest of birthdays to you! there's no spice this time, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

rated t | 1,369 words | cw: mention of injury/hospital | tags: soulmate au, getting together, love confessions

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The inconvenience of finding your soulmate when he’s on the run from the law and citizens of the town is pretty annoying. Especially when said soulmate insisted on trying to protect everyone and almost dies in the process.

The problem is that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, the connection becomes unbreakable, and the first few weeks are usually spent constantly touching in some way.

The problem is that they don’t have that option during the end of the world.

The problem is Eddie is under close watch of doctors and nurses, and Hopper, while they sort out his health and clearing his name, and that means Steve can only stop by during regular visiting hours.

The problem is that everyone else also only visits during normal visiting hours and they agreed not to tell anyone about their soulmate situation until he was home and safe.

Steve could feel the constant pull to touch him, to comfort him when the pain started to get to be too much. It was almost painful to have distance between them, but with the kids constantly fighting for Eddie’s attention, and Wayne sitting right next to him most days, Steve could barely get a quick brush of their hands.

They hadn’t even kissed yet.

It’s been 11 days since they touched. 11 days since Steve’s entire life became ‘get him out of this so you can love him.’

The loving him part was easy; only took a couple of days of watching him with the kids and with his uncle and with Robin for Steve to know he loved Eddie. But he wasn’t stupid, and he knew that Eddie probably didn’t feel the same yet. Why would he? He barely knew him, barely saw who he was outside of emergency mode.

And Eddie had made a passing comment right before he almost died, something Steve couldn’t quite get out of his head.

”A soulmate is someone you wanna do everything with, and I just don’t think I’ll get that.”

He didn’t know Steve could hear him, and probably wouldn’t have said it if he did, but if that’s how he felt after knowing Steve was his soulmate, then he didn’t think the love was going to be returned anytime soon, if ever. He could be patient. He was trying to be. But he wasn’t that hopeful.

Sometimes Eddie’s eyes would land on his across the hospital room, and they’d settle there for far longer than was considered normal for friends. They’d search Steve’s face for long enough that Steve could feel the warmth of a blush across his cheeks. He’d look away, but he’d feel Eddie’s gaze remain, sometimes for a few more seconds, sometimes more.

The pull got worse by the day.

By the two week mark, Steve was literally itching to be closer. He paced outside the door for ten minutes while he waited for Wayne to leave, grateful that the kids had all been brought up to volunteer at the school for the day and he would have at least a minute alone with Eddie without interruption.

Wayne opened the door and smirked at Steve. “Surprised you’ve been this patient. He’s about ready to pull out his IV in there, so you better hurry up and hold his hand or somethin’.”

Steve didn’t reply, just pushed through the door and rushed to Eddie’s bed.

Eddie was, in fact, picking at the tape around his IV, like if he was given enough alone time he would tear it off and escape out the window.

“I know I’m not what you wanted-” Steve started, his hands balled into fists to resist reaching out before Eddie was ready. “But I promise I’m gonna try to be what you need. I don’t know how to yet, but I want to. And I desperately need to touch you. Like, just holding your hand is fine, but I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t so-”

“What do you mean you’re not what I wanted?” Eddie interrupted, casually sliding his hand into Steve’s. Both of them gasped at the spark, but the tension seemed to drain from both of them at the same time. “Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m sure I’m not really your type. And I mean, I know I’m not like I was in high school, but I let my friends do some shitty things to you then.” Steve looked down at their joined hands, perfectly fit together in a way he’d never had with anyone he’d been with before. “And I know you don’t think we’re a great match or whatever, but I think I’d like to do stuff with you all the time. If you’d want to.”

“Why do you think I think that?”

“Because you said you didn’t think you’d wanna do everything with your soulmate.”

Eddie seemed to realize what Steve was referring to as soon as Steve started to pull his hand away. His grip tightened and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean that.” Eddie bit his lip. “I was scared that I would wanna do everything with you and you wouldn’t wanna do everything with me.”

“Eds, I love you. I wanna do everything with you, always.”

“You love me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve hadn’t meant to say it, but it’s not like he didn’t mean it, so he doubled down.

“Yeah. I do. I know it’s probably stupid, but I watched you give everything to protect us, I brought you back here almost dead, and ever since you woke up from surgery, I’ve watched you light up the room. I see how smart you are and how funny you are and how kind you are, even when you’re teasing someone. And I just. I love it. I love you.”

“Stevie-”

“I know you don’t love me. It’s okay. Maybe someday you will, maybe you won’t. Sometimes the soulmate shit is stupid, right? Fate gets it wrong or whatever.” Steve shrugged, tried to pull his hand free. He felt too vulnerable like this, standing by Eddie’s bed waiting for him to reject him. “But I just need you to know that fate got it right for me.”

“You don’t plan on following that up with a kiss?” Eddie finally asked after too long with just silence.

Steve’s mouth opened, closed, opened again as he tried to think of what to say or do.

“C’mere sweetheart. I think I owe you something,” Eddie smiled up at him as he tugged on his hand to get him closer.

Their first kiss was a lot like that first touch: overwhelming and scary, but electric and intense.

Filled with love.

When they broke apart, everything had shifted.

“I can’t wait to do everything with you, Stevie,” Eddie said before a knock on the door pulled them further apart.

Steve didn’t go far, just held his hand while the nurse looked over some of his bandages.

*****

When Eddie finally got out of the hospital, the first thing he did was tell everyone that Steve was his soulmate.

Wayne had already known, but went along with his dramatics because it’s what he was used to.

Robin had already known too after walking in on Steve sitting in Eddie’s lap, carefully braiding his hair while Eddie read to him. She didn’t even say anything, just sat down in the chair across from the bed and listened when Eddie started reading again.

After, she slapped Steve on the arm and told him to never hide shit from her again.

The kids took it well, though Mike and Dustin were pretty surprised they managed to hide it for so long.

Eddie still had a lot of healing to do.

But he did it with Steve by his side.

He did everything with Steve by his side.

When he made a sandwich, Steve was next to him, slicing the tomatoes.

When he was taking a shower, Steve was in it with him, or sitting on the toilet lid talking about his day.

When he was folding laundry, Steve was using dish detergent to get oil stains out of his jeans.

Every day was filled with moments together, and each moment was everything.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is wanting to do everything together #getting together #love confessions #soulmate au

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daisysliv · 2 years

Text

won’t let go | eddie munson

word count: 853

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you stay by eddie's side in the hospital while he recovers from the events that happened in the upside down

warnings: fluff, light angst, mentions of death, light swearing, hurt/comfort, possible s4 spoilers, hurt eddie needs its own warning

notes: written based on this and this request that i combined cause they were a little similar in idea! it's short but sweet so i hope you like it. as always, not edited so all my mistakes are my own

library

stranger things bookshelf

Shifting in the uncomfortable hospital chair, you leaned forward, placing your elbows on your thighs as you covered your face with your hands. The handcuffs secured around his wrists, trapping him to the bed making you sick.

The second you brought him to the hospital, after pulling him out of the Upside Down, they stuck cuffs on him. They stuck cuffs on him like he was gonna magically escape despite being clearly severely wounded. You argued that with the police but they didn't care, Eddie was branded as a murderer in their minds.

They believed he was some satanic cult leader that went around breaking kids’ bones and taking out their eyes when all he did was play Dungeon and Dragons; and occasionally sell drugs but that isn't the point. This town hated him for playing a game and looking different than they did. They called him a freak for how he expressed himself and the things he did, it wasn't fair. Not after he almost died for this stupid town that hated him and thought of him as nothing but a freak and a murder.

The cops outside his door almost didn't let you or anyone else in the room but you fought like hell on that. You weren't going to be banned from the room while the love of your life laid in pain with no one to comfort him. You weren't going to leave him all alone in that cold, dark room they kept him in.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly to pull him out of his slumber. He had been sleeping most days to avoid the pain he felt where he had been fed on by the demobats.

Eddie groaned, his eyes fluttering open and he slowly turned his head to look at you, a smile painting his lips. “Hey,” He croaked, his voice still raspy from where the demobat had been choking him. “You're still here.”

“Of course I am. I won't leave you here alone and Wayne is gonna stop by later.” You stand from the chair and climb into the bed, careful to avoid his injuries. Laying your head on his chest, you put your ear right above his heart so you could listen to it beat.

Feeling Eddie press his lips to your head, you snuggled closer into him, wishing he could wrap his arms around you. You wished none of this happened. It wasn't right. “You have no idea how much I wanna hold you right now.” He whispers and you could hear the desperation in his voice.

You wanted his arms around you just as bad as he did. You wanted him to hold you close and feel his grip tighten like he was scared to let go. “I want that too.” You manage to say while hiding the way your voice cracked. Gripping at the hospital gown he wore, you bunched it up in your fist trying to get closer to him.

Silence engulfs the two of you, neither of you wanting the moment to end anytime soon.

The sound of his heart beating in sync with yours echoed in your head and you felt comforted. You felt safer than you have in years. “I love you.” You whisper into the silence, the hum of the air conditioner muffling your words.

Eddie nuzzled his face into your hair and you heard him take a deep breath. “I’m scared to end up like my dad.” He admitted and your heart sank. All his life, he's been scared of one thing and that was ending up like his dad who was rotting in a jail cell. “I don't want to be like him.”

“You won't, Eddie, okay? You're nothing like him.” You prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. “You could never be like him, tell me you understand that.”

His big doe eyes never stray away from your face, and you hope he can see the sincerity written all over it. You would find a way to prove that he didn't kill Chrissy or the other teens because you weren't gonna let him be thrown in jail for something he would never even dream of doing. He couldn't kill a fucking fly.

Eddie slowly nods, his eyes softening. “I understand that and besides, if I was like him, I wouldn't have you.” He started to lift a hand, forgetting about the cuffs until they scratch at his sore wrist and he hisses. His hand falls back on the flimsy hospital mattress and you smile sadly.

Lying back down on his chest, you matched your breathing with his and closed your eyes, wishing that those stupid cops perched outside his room all day and every day would remove the damn cuffs. You wanted to feel his arms around you but they made it physically impossible and you hated it.

“If these things are ever removed, I’m never lettin’ you go.”

“Good because I won't let you.” You nuzzled into his side more, keeping your eyes closed and let the air conditioner lull you both to sleep.

notes: if you would like to request something from the prompt list, you can find it here, just be sure to add the numbers, and if it’s angst or fluff! if you want to request something that is not on the list, go right ahead and send in the ask!

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PERMANENT TAGLIST ( if it's crossed out that means i couldn't tag you )

@prettylittlemoonlight @drayshadow @evanbuckbuckleyhowlett @wildestdreamcatcher @mushroomdemon9 @levylovegood @1-800-prostitutes @AllieAprilKnox @alexxavicry @hallecarey1

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST

@hehehehannahthings @polarisfae @pinksloosh @mushroomdemon9 @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @1-800-prostitutes @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @AllieAprilKnox @angelbbygrl @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @marauderssworld

EDDIE MUNSON TAGLIST

@polarisfae @wildestdreamcatcher @pinksloosh @spookyconsultingcriminal @mushroomdemon9 @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @findleynovadachs111 @1-800-prostitutes @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @marvel-starwars-nerd @marauderssworld @lovelyladymayyy @mcueveryday

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

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artiststarme · 10 months

Text

Let's Get Out Of Here

Aha, the writer’s block is gone! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had wanted to leave since he stepped foot into the god-forsaken town. As soon as he’d passed the town’s border in the backseat of the social worker’s sedan, he knew he didn’t belong there. Hawkins was everything he despised about society; white picket fences for the rich, small town boys who thought they were better than everyone else, and snobby adults that turned their nose up if he so much as looked at them.

So yes, he’d been imagining a way out since he got in. He’d imagined Corroded Coffin making it big and getting to leave Hawkins together, best friends living the best life on stage while sharing their music with the masses. They wouldn’t be the outcasts that people treated like shit beneath their boots anymore, they would be something important. Unfortunately, that dream was squashed by his experiences over Spring Break. His old friends wouldn’t so much as glance at him much less leave town to hit the road with him.

Gone were the friends that would listen to him narrate a campaign for hours on end. Gone were the the friends that would drop everything to practice one of Eddie’s spur of the moment song ideas. After Spring Break of his third senior year, Eddie was alone.

He managed to avoid criminal charges by the skin of his teeth with a bogus alibi fabricated by the surprisingly-still-alive-Chief Hopper. He was finally able to graduate from high school and get a full time job to raise some money. But everything else was ruined. The friends he’d had since sophomore year were gone, the trailer he’d called his home was savaged, and his body was marred with gruesome scars that still wrought pain on the worst days.

On the bad days when the pain kept him in bed, he’d fantasize about leaving Hawkins. New, more achievable dreams centered around moving someplace new with Wayne. They’d pack everything up in the van and truck and just take off. They’d leave the tragic Midwest behind and head somewhere bigger like LA or NYC to take the world at storm, Munsons against the world as it had always been. Unfortunately though, they just didn’t have the funds to do that. Wayne couldn’t leave the plant when he had no savings to his name. And Eddie didn’t have anywhere near enough saved from working at Thatcher Tire to support them both.

He still had nothing going for him in Hawkins though. The harsh glares and pointed insults had only worsened since Chrissy’s death. He had to leave. But, he’d always been a coward at heart and he wasn’t brave enough to leave on his own. He would be trapped in the town that hated him until he died or something happened to force him out.

The one thing he had still was his family. It had lost several members but it had gained even more. The Party had managed to creep passed his defenses to find a place in his broken heart. Steve and Robin in particular grew close to him, assigning themselves best friends of Eddie Munson 1 and 2, respectively. They would hang out around Wayne’s new trailer, bother him at work, and he’d bother them at theirs.

It was on one of these impromptu hang-out sessions that a spark of hope developed in his chest. He’d been mourning his cowardice and inability to leave in silence until Steve started complaining about feeling trapped in his empty home. It was then that Eddie saw an opportunity.

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds stupid, how can I feel trapped in a big house? But there’s just nothing there! And it’s, it’s suffocating, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stay there.”

Steve murmured his words against the end of a cigarette, his body leaning against the side of the car that Eddie was pretending to work on. But how was he supposed to focus on changing a timing belt when the object of his affections was expressing a will to leave?

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Eddie nearly fell over as he rushed to reassure him. “Hell, I’ve felt suffocated since I got here.”

Steve hummed softly and took a puff of his cigarette.

Eddie smirked sardonically and chuckled to himself. “Maybe we should leave together. You could stop being a ghost in your parents house and I could stop being the murderer that killed his classmates. We could get a place together and decorate it half jock, half metal. That’d be a sight.”

Steve looked over at him with squinted eyes. “Really? You’d want to leave with me?”

“Why not? You’re one of my best friends, Stevie. I’d love to leave with you.”

The suspicion melted from Steve’s expression and a genuine smile took its place. He dropped the cigarette to the gravel ground, pulled the tool from Eddie’s hand and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Let’s do it! You and me. And Robin, I don’t think she’d let me move without her. We’re a package deal, if that’s okay.”

Eddie laughed and it’s him, high in the moment despite it all being a joke. “Of course! You can bring your emotional support lesbian and I’ll bring my Sweetheart. Then we’ll take the world by storm.”

Steve held onto him for another few moments before pulling away. “Okay, when do you want to leave?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face. “Wha- seriously? You actually want to leave with me?”

“Um, yes? I feel like I made that pretty obvious.”

Eddie blinked. “Um, okay. How about the end of the summer. Then we’ll have enough time to find a place and raise some cash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll tell Robin. See you later, Eds!”

Eddie could only watch him skip to his car in shock. Steve continued to surprise the hell out of him. He’d shocked him in the Upside Down by being a genuinely good guy. Again when he’d fought the entire basketball team two weeks afterward to protect Eddie’s honor. And now with plans to rescue him from the stifling hatred of Hawkins.

When he pulls him into a gentle kiss as soon as they step into the apartment with Robin behind them griping about carrying all the bags, that’s a nice surprise too.

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#They make Robin carry all of the bags so they can pick their rooms first #they end up sharing anyways #they move to a city and live the lives they could never live in Hawkins #and they’re happy #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley

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tealfloyd · 1 year

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Not sure if you're taking requests. But I have a strong weakness for these prompts where the mc changes for each dorm. So I gotta ask for something similar. For the each non human characters, the MC changes to their animal counterpart. Like for Azul, MC is stuck as an octopus or for Ruggie they're a hyena.

Love these prompts and you write them really well!

A ZOO-OTIC DAY

"MC's part of the exhibitions now~"

SUMMARY: MC collides with a student, accidentally touching one of his potions, unbeknownst of the troubling effects that this would cause. (Savanaclaw, Octavinelle and Malleus x Fem!Reader).

WARNINGS: MC almost dies in Octavinelle part due to her being an eel out of water. Stressing and a crying bit (while being a dragon) in Diasomnia's part.

CONTENT: Am I pampering Malleus? Yes, I am. MC transforms into a lioness, a hyena, a wolf, an octopus, an eel and a dragon, in that order. Only these seven because they're the only ones that classify as non-human that have animal counterparts. Imagine MC's dragon form as Light Fury (How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World) because I saw a meme of Malleus doing the Toothless's mating dance and I never let it go. WORDS: 4K+

A/N: Hello dear anon~! Thank you for the compliment, I'm very happy you liked my writings!

This was a fun request! But it's more of a short story (that I'm not very proud of-) than reactions since it was easier to write; I still hope you like it though!

The plot isn't that good, but I swear that I tried my best to make this work- And I may have arranged some things to conveniently help the plot, but in my defence... It's a magical world.

Now onto the fic~

Ah, Night Raven College. One of the most prestigious magic academies for young boys and a magicless girl, overflowing with talent and... Disaster.

But this time it wasn’t caused by our main cast, no, no, no. This time it was made by a clueless student that was passing by.

You were walking down the hallway, alone and distracted, heading to Savanaclaw by petition of Jack, when all of the sudden, you collided with someone, the crash sounding like it came out of a cartoon.

“Ouch!” You both exclaimed in pain, falling to the floor which was covered with papers and some potions.

“I’m sorry, I—" He stopped as he looked at you, realising who he just crashed with. “By the Sevens. I’m very sorry, Prefect!” He made an apologetic bow, positioning himself so it would be more respectful.

“Please, there’s no need. It was an accident," you said, chuckling slightly at his politeness. “I crashed with you too, so please forgive me," you also made a bow, helping him with all the work that was scattered on the floor. “Let me help you with this, is the least I can do."

The boy blushed at that, shyly evading your gaze. “Thank you, Prefect," he muttered, lifting some of the bottles.

“There you go," you passed him the now neatly organised carpets, making sure he was able to hold everything. “Want me to help you carry these?”

He shook his head, thinking about the reactions of your scary and powerful friends if they found you were passing your time helping him, and what’s worse, that you collided with him. “It’s okay, I can do it," he didn’t dare to look at you, making a quick bow while apologising, again, hurriedly leaving.

“Well, that was strange…” You muttered, also leaving so you could be in time for your appointment with the beastman, feeling a ticklish sensation on your hand, absentmindedly scratching it.

It was then when the student noted that one of the test tubes was empty, inspecting it to see if there were remains of the potion. “Where did it…” He looked at you, seeing you scratching your hand before rounding the corner. “Oh no."

SAVANACLAW — LIVING ROOM

“Sevens, who cleaned that floor?” You uttered, still scratching your hand while walking towards the main building.

You sat on the sofa while texting Jack that you arrived, waiting for him patiently until you heard a familiar, cheeky voice.

“Well, if it isn’t the Prefect," exclaimed Ruggie, walking closer to you. “What brings you here?”

“Oh— Hi, Ruggie," you greeted him, earning one of his characteristics laughs in return. “I'm waiting for Jack."

Your response caught him off guard, looking confused. “Jack? Why Jack?”

“We're going to the library since we're working on a project together," you said, a little taken aback by the sudden question.

“So, it's just a group project then," he muttered, looking more relieved.

“Ah, MC," said Jack, lifting an eyebrow at the scene. “And Ruggie."

A third voice added himself into the conversation, coming from a grumpy lion beastman, groggily walking to the living room. “I see you’re here, herbivore."

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry if I disturbed you," you bowed slightly. “Maybe Jack and I should go so you can continue, uh— Napping?”

This is certainly not what Leona nor Ruggie were expecting, but Jack wasn’t complaining, happy that he was going to spend some time with you.

“You are right, we can finish at the end of the afternoon if we start now," he said, ready to walk out of the lounge when his dorm leader noticed something.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Ah, this?" You looked at your hand. "It’s nothing, it's just a scratch from when I fell on my way here," you responded, brushing it off.

“You fell on your way here?” Ruggie questioned.

“It was nothing, the floor was a bit slippery, that’s all." You were starting to become nervous, not wanting to talk about the earlier incident to cover up for the innocent student.

“Let me see it," said Leona, approaching so he could inspect your hand.

“It’s nothing, really," you didn’t argue when he lifted it up, seeing the red spot and the redness because of all the scratching.

“You really are careless," he muttered, moving to get a better angle, accidentally touching your skin with his forearm.

At that moment, everything went black for you for a few seconds, a veil of smoke covering your form.

“MC?!” The three screamed in panic, trying to dissipate the fog so they could check if you were okay.

You were okay, but not human MC okay, more like lioness MC okay.

“A lioness…?” Jack muttered, dumfounded.

“Did MC just transform into a lioness…?" Continued Ruggie, sharing the same expression as his underclassman.

All of them were panicking, but Leona was the only one who was calmer (on the outside, inside, he's panicking just as much as them) than his dorm members.

He crouched to be at eye level with you, deeply exhaling before speaking. “MC, what did you touch?”

You tried to respond, alarmed because the only sound you could make was roars.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can understand you, just keep talking," encouraged Ruggie, also crouching down.

You tried to communicate, hoping that it was enough for them to understand.

“’Maybe I touched a potion by accident’?” Jack remarked, which you nodded, glad that he understood. “At class?”

“’I don’t think so…’” Ruggie said, confused. “What do you mean you don’t think so?”

“’I think I touched a student’s potion by accident when I crashed onto him earlier’” Leona repeated, annoyance showing in his voice. “And why didn't you tell us?”

You went serious for a moment, giving them the look before saying that you didn't want them to go after him, to which they only scoffed, knowing very well that what you were saying was true.

“We have to find a way to get her back to normal," Jack said, starting to brainstorm ideas to solve this problem.

Ruggie checked your paw, which still had the red dot, and the moment he did the smoke appeared again, converting you into a hyena.

“What did you do?!” Asked Jack, concern washing over his voice.

“Nothing! I just touched her paw!” Ruggie defended himself, also concerned.

“You shouldn’t have touched her paw in the first place!” Leona bickered.

Sighing, you sat down, frustrated that you always seem to be stuck in this type of situations, thinking about who to ask that could solve this, all while watching the beastmen fighting over who was to blame for.

‘Are you done?’ You asked, completely serious, doing what you could to raise an eyebrow.

They immediately stopped arguing, understanding that that wouldn't help you transform into a human again.

“We should tell a professor about this," Jack suggested, gaining three collective sighs from you and their upperclassmen.

“Have you forgot?”

“They are not coming back until tomorrow morning.”

‘They are in a meeting with the Royal Sword Academy teachers,' you finally said, making the boy blush in embarrassment.

“We need to look for someone who knows how to revert this…” Ruggie commented, trying to think of someone aside from the teachers who could help you.

“What about Vil? Pomefiore is known for their potion making skills," proposed Jack, and you shook your head.

‘He’s out for the day. He told me he will be doing an important photoshoot; so even if we call him is likely he wouldn’t not answer.'

“Great, the beauty freak is out, and the teachers are in a meeting. What next?”.

‘I think that Azul may know how to fix this,' you said, making Leona grunt in denial.

‘We have to go to the Mostro Lounge.'

He clicked his tongue, deciding that it was wiser to not say anything, instead helping you walk with your new legs.

Due to the trembling, all you could do was wiggle, accidentally resting your paw on Jack’s forearm, transforming into a wolf, falling back because of the shock.

“Jack!” They both exclaimed, making said boy retrieve your new paw from his forearm as if it would poison you.

‘It’s okay. It’s not like it can get any worse, so let’s leave it like that,' you calmed them down, trying to shift your weight from one leg to the other, maintaining a steady balance as you exited Savanaclaw.

OCTAVINELLE — MOSTRO LOUNGE

You three arrived at Octavinelle with a painfully slow pace, trying to help you the best they could without touching your paw.

“We’re finally here," said Ruggie, exhaling in relief upon seeing the establishment’s sign.

‘Guys, I don’t want to seem exasperated, but can you just push that door?’ You asked, and Jack complied, letting you four enter to the restaurant.

You were wary, hiding behind the three beastmen before Azul and Jade conveniently appeared.

”My, if it isn't our Savanaclaw acquaintances," proclaimed the dorm leader. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a huge problem right here," said Ruggie, already annoyed by their attitude.

“Oh? And are you here to ask for our help?” Jade asked, smile growing wider.

“The problem… Has to be with MC," Jack said, still covering your form along with Leona so they would have time to explain.

Their faces fell at that, turning serious upon listening that their friend love interest was having a problem.

“Is the Prefect in danger?” Asked Azul, fixing his glasses, trying to mask his concern with politeness.

“They're not, but they’re different now," commented Leona.

“Different... You say?” Inquired Jade, sincerely not knowing what they were talking about.

They moved aside to reveal you, still in your wolf form, looking at them intently.

“And the problem involves this wolf?” Questioned Jade, while Azul backed away slightly out of fear.

“The wolf is MC," they finally said, making the Octavinelle students widen their eyes, not believing them.

“Are you telling me that the Prefect… Transformed into a wolf…?” Azul glasses nearly fall from the shock, fortunately pushing them back in time.

“First into a lioness, then a hyena and finally a wolf," Leona added. “Think you can solve this?"

“I’m afraid I will need more information…” He managed to let out, intending to say that he needed time to process this.

“MC, is this really you?” Asked Jade, crouching down to match your height, looking at your eyes.

‘Unfortunately, I am MC,' you answered, thinking that if he asked, he could understand you, which he did.

“My, how did you end up in this situation…?”

“They crashed with a student who had a potion that caused this," Leona answered, already done with all the questions. “Can you help her or not?”

Azul cleared his throat before speaking, finally regaining his (well, most of it) composure, bending down in front of you. “I need to see how the potion works; did you say she transformed into a lioness, a hyena and a wolf?”

“Yes, the moment we touched her hand, er— Paw, she transformed," said Jack, inspecting their intentions.

“I never saw a potion that does this… Have you tried talking to Vil?”

‘He’s in a photoshoot right now.'

“I see…” Azul stopped for a second, thinking until something clicked on his mind. “May I see the paw you all touched?”

‘It’s this one. What do you think about it?’

“It left a mark," said Jade, trying to think of substances that could have caused it. “I think her skin didn’t react the way it was intended to."

“MC, can I touch your paw?” Azul asked, wanting to confirm a hypothesis.

‘Sure, if it’s going to help,' you passed your paw to him, and he removed his glove, hesitantly grazing his finger over the red spot.

Two seconds after the action, a smoke covered you again, revealing that your wolf form changed into an octopus’s one, and at that precise moment Floyd entered the café, not really noticing you at first because of his height.

“Huh?” He looked at the three Savanaclaw students, smile growing wider. “What are the Savanaclaw fishies doing here~?”

“Floyd, you may want to see this," said his twin brother, and he looked down to find what he thought was a cute octopus.

“Oh?” He let out a surprise noise, replacing it with giggles. “Where did this octopus come from~? Hey Azul, can I cook it~?”

You silently screamed. 'Please don’t Floyd, I assure you I’m not tasty,' you exclaimed, backing away from him the best you could.

“Huh? How do you know my name, little octopus~?” He crouched closer to you, scaring you even more.

“It’s because it’s the Prefect,” Azul finally said, finally standing up after seeing what the potion did, putting his glove on.

“Eh?” Floyd’s brain paused for a second before realising what he just said, now yelling. “Eh?! Shrimpy?!”

‘Yes Floyd, I’m MC, now, can you please not eat me?’ You were relieved he believed his house warden, trying to use your tentacles to move with futile results.

“Wah! How did you end up as an octopus?!” He started to touch your head, curious of how you did this.

“It seems that the potion makes her transform into each animal of the non-humans she touches," stated Azul, sighing before saying the next sentence. “Unfortunately, this is advanced alchemy; we can't make her touch or drink something else without guaranteeing it would affect her permanently."

“So, you can’t bring her back to normal," summarized Ruggie, frustrated at the outcome. “Then what should we do?”

“First, we have to stop touching her hand— Well, tentacles, to not cause further damage—“ He was cut off by the smoke indicating that someone had touched you, knowing at the exact moment who did it. “Floyd…”

“Sorry~” He apologised, looking down at your new form, noticing which animal was just a second after. “Oh! Shrimpy transformed into an eel!”

You squirmed on the floor, trying to breathe, hoping they would get that if you weren’t on water right now you would die.

“Aren’t eels supposed to be… In the water?” Ruggie pointed out, making all of them instantly panic.

“OH SHIT!” Floyd rushed over to the tank, hurriedly opening it so Azul and Jade could drop you into it, deeply exhaling after making you almost die.

“Why did you have to touch her?!” Azul scolded, trying to control his breathing after the whole experience.

“I didn’t know that she would transform! You never tell me anything!” He defended himself, although he had to admit that he felt a bit guilty.

“There is no time to fight over this," said Jade, trying to calm them down for once. “We still have to find a way to get the Prefect back to normal."

“Eh~? But Shrimpy’s very cute as an eel~” Floyd whined, not really understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Floyd, do you understand that if she stays like an eel she wouldn’t pet your hair?” That sole phrase was enough for him to change his mind-set.

“We have to find a way to get Shrimpy back to normal!”

“And how do we do that? The teachers are in a meeting, Vil’s out and there’s no guarantee she wouldn’t stay like this forever," said Jack, making everyone think about how it would be their life without you in it.

‘I think that there’s only one option,' you started to talk, confused for your new way of breathing. ‘We have to go to Diasomnia.'

“Do you mean… Asking Malleus for help?” Asked Jade, which you nodded your head.

‘I think he is the only one that can truly help me go back to normal,' you said, kind of enjoying swimming with a tailfin.

“So, we have to go to the lizard for help then…” Leona mumbled, and although it would seem like he didn’t share the idea, he actually thought it was the best one so far.

“We need to transport MC for that…” Azul thought about it for a moment, asking the tweels for help. “I think you would fit here… Mostly, at least."

And then, after somehow fitting in the medium fish tank, you all walked over to Diasomnia, hoping that the dragon-fae would aid you.

DIASOMNIA — GARDEN

“Prefect? Are you okay in there?” Asked Azul, checking that you were comfortable with the fish tank they fitted you in.

‘I’m okay, but I’m more concerned about them’,'you answered, talking about the four men that were lifting you to keep you from falling.

“I assure you they’re fine, that’s what their muscles are for anyway," he said, looking for Malleus in the garden.

“Don’t speak on our behalf," Jack complained, steading himself after almost tripping.

‘Oh, he’s there,' you tried to point with your nose, or your tailfin… You pointed to the man who was calmly reading, his frame making it easier for all of the men to spot him.

Azul went first, deciding that he was the most befitting out of you all to explain the situation, trying to not enrage him since he knew about his feelings for you.

“Malleus," he said, attracting the attention the fae, who looked away from his book to look at him.

“Ashengrotto, what brings you here?” He asked, closing his book so he could listen to what he had to say.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we require your help," he signalled the others behind him, and raised a brow at the container, thinking that it was something humans tend to do, which is not, but is not like he knows about it. “You see; the Prefect has been engaged in… Quite a situation."

His face showed concern, but not enough that it would cause a storm, intently waiting for Azul’s explanation.

“She touched a potion that makes her change into different animals depending on who touches her, so she’s currently…” He pointed at you, sighing. “An eel."

“I… Don’t quite get it," he finally said, looking at your sea form as he processed the new information.

‘Hello, Tsunotarou,' you said, impressed that he widened his eyes at that, an indicator that he understood what you’ve just said. ‘As Azul said, I’m a moray eel now.'

“Child of Man…?” He hesitantly asked, inspecting you. “What happened?”

‘I accidentally touched a potion that makes me change to different animals, or something like that,' you also didn’t get your position, but tried to explain it nonetheless. ‘Can you help me go back to normal?’

“I…” This was one of the few times Malleus was too stunned to speak, at least in front of you, seemingly thinking about what he could do to help. “Of course, I may have a potion that could fix this."

“You do?!” All of you screamed at once, happy that this was going to end soon.

You jumped in excitement, going a bit too far as you unintentionally came out of water, tailfin (which had the now unique red spot on it) touching Malleus hand due to his proximity.

You didn’t notice until it was too late, knowing that the change was about to happen once you felt the sensation of the transformation, jumping out of water in a panic, not wanting to hurt them since you knew you were going to transform into a dragon next.

And you did; vision fogging for a few seconds until you saw that you were now huge compared to your friends, trying to control your tail and wings, that were fluttering because of the shock.

“MC!” They all screamed, concerned because you seemed very stressed, thinking of what to do to help you.

“Back away," Malleus said, which they complied, trusting his ability. “You have to search the potion in my room; it has an emerald tone and it’s situated on my library," he gave them the instructions to get to his room, not really caring about who was going for it, instead focusing on you.

You were pretty stressed; being transformed into a normal animal was one thing. It was something that could happen any day in alchemy class with Ace, Deuce and Grim, but this was nothing like that.

Maybe it was the fact that for you, dragons were considered mythical until you arrived here, or the feeling that you were going to stay like this forever. Whatever ended up being, you felt the lingering sensation to cry, panic building inside of you.

Your tears were streaming down your new face when you felt something warm nuzzling against your head. You blinked your tears away to try and identify it, eyes connecting with very familiar green eyes, which belonged to another dragon.

‘Malleus…?’ You asked, and he nodded his head, shifting closer to you. ‘Is this… Your dragon form…?’ It was a stupid question, and you knew it, but your over-stressed brain didn’t really think about it before speaking at that time.

Still, he didn’t seem to mind, chuckling lightly. ‘Indeed. Do you not like it?’ He inquired, and although it sounded like a teasing remark, he was scared that this impulsive action may cause you to back away from him due to his "monstrous" form.

He was, by all means, incorrect. ‘No, I think it’s cute…' You managed to say, his presence calming you down.

‘Cute?’ He asked, setting his head on top of yours, covering your wings with his own in order to calm you down.

‘Ah, sorry, was I not supposed to say that…?’ You were starting to panic again, thinking that you did something wrong, leading Malleus to apply more force to keep you from exasperating again.

‘I think that cute it’s not what most people think when looking at a dragon,' he nudged his head into yours, sitting down so you could lean on him, relieved that you seemed more at peace.

‘Yeah, maybe you’re right…’ You accommodated your legs into a more comfortable position, letting your head rest on the crook of his neck.

His sole presence made you calm down to the point where you fell asleep, light snores being the only sound that came out of your mouth, along with a little bit of smoke.

While all of this ensued, the students on the ground wondered what the hell just happened, and since the school doesn't really teach 'dragon language', the only thing they saw was the two of you roaring and grunting at each other, utterly confused by this.

“Does anyone know how to speak dragon?” Asked Ruggie.

“Are they even talking?” Commented Leona.

“I can’t believe all of this happened in the span of one afternoon," complained Azul.

“Isn’t Sea Slug like, very close to Shrimpy?” Whined Floyd.

“Is that what you think after this?” Jade said, thinking about what his twin just exclaimed. “Although they sure are a bit too close…”

When Jack finally arrived with the potion, Malleus had to lift your paw due to the immense force that it would require for them to do it, lulling you to sleep when you showed signs of waking up.

After it was done, they had to wait for around fifteen seconds until it made effect, a veil of white smoke appearing for the last time combined with Malleus's green one, revealing the two of you leaning against each other, clothes slightly damaged due to the transformation.

You were so tired that you didn’t woke up even after they argued over who should carry you over to Ramshackle; Malleus ended up winning the fight since he could teleport, treating you as if you were a feather, setting you down softly on your bed.

He decided that it would be better if he stayed in the living room, afraid of what could happen if he left you alone after such a wild experience.

The day after the whole situation, you went to classes like normal, having to endure so many questions coming from your friends since people were talking about how you transformed into different animals, clearly thinking they missed a key adventure.

You said that it was a long story, and it certainly was.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #mc/yuu #mc twisted wonderland

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 15 days

Text

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing.

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward.

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse.

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse.

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords. A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently.

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs.

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne. You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room.

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that.

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.”

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words.

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles. “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -” Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises.

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted. “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.”

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?” He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster.

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.”

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts. “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly.

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement.

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment. “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner. “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close.

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it.

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish.

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Text

Refuge | chapter three.

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chapter three: damning rebirth

wordcount: 3.8k - my longest work yet lmao summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? warnings: angst, estrangement, anger, violence, sad, its like centered around finding yourself again, reader and joel are both quite complicated broken ppl im trying to do them justice, not much joel he’ll be in the next chapter i promise.

You didn’t speak to him for weeks after that first afternoon. You’d run out of words to say. You stopped speaking to his brother, too, for keeping you in the dark; ignoring Maria’s justifications, the constant droning of “…he did it to keep you safe, you know? So you wouldn’t leave Jackson’s safety and run after Joel. You could have died. Sarah’s death would have broken you, like it broke him, and you should be thankful that…”

You tuned her out after a while. It was getting tiring coming up with rude adjectives to describe how wrong she was in your head. There was no fight left in you to even protest, so you just left the room while she was talking. You loved her, but there were days you thought she just enjoyed hearing herself talk. Which she was extremely welcome to do, but with the acknowledgement that you would rather walk into a bloaters' den unarmed than sit through it.

Tommy had lied to you, kept the truth about your family from you, and no matter how many ways he spun it, it wouldn’t change the fact that when your first fucking words to him were asking about Joel and Sarah, he had looked you in the eyes and lied through his goddamn teeth when he said he didn’t know. He could go crying to Maria all he liked. You’d need a while not to recoil with disgust every time you saw him no matter how many times you got told to stop acting like a child. When Tommy realised the extent of your anger, he attempted to remedy it by telling you everything. Sarah getting shot on outbreak day - you still winced when he said it- and Joel’s time in the QZ, with a woman called Tess. You didn’t even know what to make of that. You probably couldn’t unpack your feelings about it if you tried. How he found the girl you’d gotten alarmed by - the job he got, how he took her in, how he lied to her and why she won’t look at him now.

You didn’t even bother forming opinions about any of it, let alone voice any. Thinking was futile; your thoughts or ideas or opinions or offense wouldn’t change anything, would they? You continued the same monotonous routine you had established for the past year or so since you arrived to Jackson, this time with even fewer occasions of leaving the house for a party or drink.

The shop and your bedroom became your life, the only people you spoke to were those looking for books. You’d collected them for years in the hope that if the outbreak ever got under control, there would be literature somewhere for humanity to remember what it used to be. Or perhaps a relic, serving as a legacy for a species long gone. Something, just to yell at the world and all those to come after, that you were here, even when you weren’t really. You hadn’t quite been here since the day the world had ended. Since the day you had lost everything. And now, twelve years later, all of it just came crashing back.

The pain was as if someone had crawled into your flesh, peeled your ribs back, and plucked your heart out.

Sarah had become less of a person and more of a concept to you over time. The intangibility that very literally gave you strength when you lay bruised and beaten, held down and overlooked by snarling strangers. She had been your salvation; your everything. Losing her wasn’t something you had truly came back from the first time around, suppressed guilt and fear and worry gnawing at the back of your mind. The reappearance of all of it, overshadowed this time by crippling guilt, was a cruel albeit welcome one. You wanted to feel bad - because much like Joel, it was what you deserved. You had failed - not only as a mother but as a wife, too. You should have just gone home on time that fucking night, but life got in the way as if often used to back then. All those little things that got blown out of proportion like work and deadlines and projects and careers didn’t even matter now. You should have come home. You should have been there.

You didn’t even want to imagine how Joel felt. To you, the ache was a phantom limb - trailing you wherever you went, interwoven with your shadow. To him, it was a stain on his hands that he never seemed to be able to rub out; he could always see a tinge of crimson coating his fingers, ever since that night.

Neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore.

Yet, even after all of it life simply went on, stuttering but still relentless in its proceedings. Pink, jagged scars marred the flesh of time as it stretched around the metalwork of the lives you had fought to keep, yet lost the worth of anyways. Fate is seldom kind.

It wasn’t too peculiar, this distance. Ironically, even after all these years, you both understood the other perfectly - as if each thought either of you had, each feeling you felt, was respected and loved and relayed by the refuge of your marriage, still. You understood that he was too ashamed by his self-proclaimed failure to speak to you, and he understood that the loss had so wholly devoured you that you wouldn’t have the strength to look in his eyes and be reminded of hers for a while.

The song and dance continued, the delicate persuasion of ensuring not to jolt the fragile existences the other had created for themselves. Joel didn’t come near your bookshop, and you didn’t go near Tommy, lest the words ‘family dinner’ be spoken into existence. Truly, he was idiot enough to suggest it. As if all that your currently brilliant (more like fractured) relationship with your husband (was he still? what about tess?) needed was a dinner with his brother, his sister in law, and the kid he had apparently adopted, lied to, and was now in a rough spot with. Gotta love reunions, no?

In another life, you would have stepped in. You would have spoken to either of them - perhaps even made more of an effort to include Ellie in your own life to ensure that after all she had been through, she wouldn’t feel alone even when she wasn’t doing well with Joel. In this life, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Joel acted like a selfish, moronic liar, sure. But if this kid couldn’t see, that at his very core, he was just plain scared - that he practically shook in his (adorable) cowboy boots anytime someone mentioned what happened to Ellie - then, great, she deserved Joel not realising that it was her decision to save humanity; to pay the price, to do what it took; entirely independent of him, or anyone else. You tamped down on the cynical part of you sneering at the romantic heroism of it all. The world knew now, better than before, how selfish man was. How utterly human, for Joel to struggle to separate his feelings for his own daughter and the one he had taken in; for Ellie to be too caught up in her own view to even consider what Joel was going through. It was almost like one of those plays you used to enjoy reading - like a Greek tragedy. The hamartia of both heroes was humanity alone.

They’d come around, eventually. Joel and Sarah always did, too.

The irony lay mostly in the fact that you had spent a decade craving him - his comfort and his warmth. The kneading of his large hands on your back after a long day; the scratch of his stubble when he nuzzled into your neck from behind. The years you didn’t have him were spent with only him in mind; a mindless worship of the love you had. Now that he was within reach; close enough to grasp and curl your fingers around, to sink an burrow into; you were… lost. The desperation; the wild frenzy with which you had remembered only them through the years - to have lost one now leaves you clueless about what to do with the other. The cracks that have made their way into your heart - the ones tainting your soul - you see them reflected in him, too. Your first look into his dark eyes told you that he, too, has done too much to be standing here today; that his first kill, too, had been the man he once was. No wonder you can’t bear to look at each other anymore. The grief - not only of what you have both lost, or what you once had, but the grief of who you both used to be - rears its ugly head in any room you find yourselves in together. Look at me, it screams. Look at what the years have done to me. I can’t recognise myself in mirrors anymore. I don’t see who I used to be. I was so beautiful. I was so good. Look at me. Look at me. Look-

Is this how the angels felt when they fell? You’d never know - there were no angels; there was no God. What divinity would allow for any of this to happen? This joke, this mockery of nature. You never were religious, but fumbled prayers had found their way into your vocabulary every night when you didn’t know where Joel and Sarah were. You - who had never even stepped into a church had prayed.

You must have forgotten there was nobody sitting in the sky to listen.

You had made your peace with the mutual decision to avoid him and the girl - not only because you didn’t even know how to start apologizing to her-but because you were content with the mere knowledge that he was here, that he was alive and breathing.

Tommy’s guilt worked in your favor, ensuring that he didn’t try pairing you and Joel up for patrols - likely fearful of the fallout that might occur (but like, what could even happen? another apocalypse?) but the comedown of that meant that you were paired up with Fred, instead. A man who infuriated you to no end, one who found it extremely interesting that you were once married, that you have a child. Had.

His ceaseless questions made you want to rip your hair out, but you refrained - if only so he wouldn’t have another reason to put his arms around you to try ‘calming’ you like last time. He was a bastard, but you didn’t have it in you to challenge him just yet.

Your answers to his enquiries were grunted or simply monosyllabic, your irritation clear as day in the set of your jaw, the slant of your brow. Nevertheless, like the dumbfuck he was, he persisted. So then how was this your fault?

It had been a decent morning. You’d gotten up early in time for the patrol, taken a shower, drank some water and arrived at the stables. But as you stood outside, you could hear the commotion of people inside - boisterous cheering and laughing as if one would hear in a pub. Interest piqued, you inched your way to the entrance of the barn silently, trying to understand what was going on.

“…fuckin’ whore’s been leading me on for like half a year, turned out she was married the whole time. Dodged a bullet, though. Nearly lost her shit when he told her that her kid died. Went completely apeshit and ruined my goddamn shirt with her snot- nearly clawed through my arm, too. Feel bad for the poor husband, had to yell at everyone to get out just so he could calm her crazy ass down. Everyone’s lost someone, lady. Get over it, right? Plus, girl that age wouldn’t have done too well at a QZ, know what I mean? Wouldn’t have gone untouched, anyways.” He paused for them all to laugh at the supposed comedic gold in his words - him and his little pack of primitives - and all you could do was stand there, glued to the spot in shock.

The fucking audacity. Leading him on? You fucking tried your best to get him to stop talking to you, stop touching you - and you didn’t claw at his arm because you were crazy, you did it because you were fucking panicking and some idiot was making it worse by caging you in. And that was brushing aside what he said about Sarah. No, that had you seeing red, chest heaving.

Fuck, the old you would have broken his nose on the first day. Never is too late to do the right thing, is it?

Just like before, a laugh was forming in your chest. A giggle at first, before you were chuckling, clapping a hand to your mouth and horrified with your own humour. The joke here was priceless, though. See - the world had ended, God was dead, and you were worried about being lightly reprimanded? Fuck that, and fuck him. You hadn’t let yourself feel fear out there. You hadn’t let yourself feel despair, and you sure as hell hadn’t let yourself feel hope. Joel’s arrival forced you to confront all the pain you had ignored. This cunt of a man was managing to unearth all the anger you had neglected, too. His fucking funeral.

Your tongue sat agitated against your teeth in anticipation, waiting to give way to the venom lacing the words in your brain.

Fury sparked in your blood, washing away all your hesitation. Fragmented, she etched herself into the ring of black that blew out your pupils; the unfaltering thumping of your heart in your chest. The threads of your fate were now in her slender, silhouetted hands, and all that was left for you to do was obey. Not that you had a choice.

Before you could so much as blink, you had burst into the crowd. Fred’s eyes widened at the wild snarl on your face, begging and apologizing.

He was unaware, though, of just how sick you had become of apologies. Tommy’s apologies, Joel’s apologies, Maria’s shitty ones, and then the sympathetic apologies you’d been getting from customers because apparently word of Sarah and her role in your life had spread like wildfire throughout Jackson. Joel wouldn’t have shared it, nor would Tommy- not when he knew you were two seconds away from breaking his nose just weeks ago. That left the kid Joel bought-Ellie-or Fred. And something just told you it wasn’t the girl. You’d trust Joel’s judgement blindly any day.

His empty sorrys fell upon deaf ears, his trembling voice cracking as he repeated them over and over.

You grinned, baring your teeth.

“Hello, Fred. Hello, everyone. Having a party and I wasn’t even invited?” You pouted mockingly. “Y’ know what I personally think is absolutely, knee-slappingly hilarious?” You paused, watching their curiosity grow as they fell hook, line and sinker for the cheerful façade, furrowing ther brows in question and stepping in closer. “How untouched you look, asshat.” Your grin dropped just as you rocked back on your heels, surging forward within a split second while throwing all your weight into your fist.

Just as it collided with the asshat's jaw.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You’ve been…frazzled since Joel came back, fine, but I cannot excuse your behaviour just because I know you or because you’re family. This was absolutely out of line, is that clear?” Maria stopped her pacing to turn to you, expecting a justification or an apology. You offered neither. When you refused to so much as look up from your split knuckles, she threw her hands up, huffing at her husband, who was leaning against the table sheepishly while wincing every time her voice rose as she yelled at you.

The door swung open and Joel practically stumbled in, eyes searching wildly until they landed on you curled up on a chair with your hands in your lap. Did news seriously spread that fast, even now? Guess people don’t have much to do when the world has ended.

“Look- I know, I know you went through a lot. At first, you were spacey and Tommy told me to just leave it alone. Then, you got the bookshop and you just spent all your time there or on patrols, never even trying to integrate yourself here, and I’ve let it go because he-“ a finger in Tommy’s direction, “-begged me to. Let go of your little…tantrum with Ellie, too. I watched Tommy mope around and I said nothing even when you refused to accept that he hadn’t told you about Joel, for your own good.” Tommy flinched, but she went on. “I just can’t do it this time. You broke Fred’s jaw, you know? He is a contributing, well-liked citizen in Jackson. Not a recluse. I didn’t believe you’d done it until I saw the state of your hand. You’re always so quie-just-just give me one fucking reason you would punch him.” She was panting by the end, her chest falling rapidly under the weight of her own tirade.

Joel had planted himself directly between you and Maria, as if trying to protect you from the onslaught of her words. He looked more apologetic than you did, hands extending towards her while he took a deep breath, attempting to placate her.

“Maria-now just wait a damn minute, she wouldn’t-“

Was he defending you? When had that happened? When had you become this-this blubbering, weak version of yourself that Joel had to protect?

The cold, unforgiving numbness loosened its grip; fear, guilt but most strongly, shame coiling in your gut. Maria was right, in her own fucked up way. You had retreated so far back into yourself that all that was left within your grasp now was mere tendrils of who you used to be.

Sarah would have been proud of me for punching the bastard, though.

The thought rang in your mind as you raised your head, squared your shoulders. Took the stutter out of your voice, and looked Maria right in the eyes.

“Your contributing, well-liked citizen said Sarah was lucky to die. That she wouldn’t have gone untouched in a QZ. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. And thanks to how well liked he is, I didn’t get a chance to tell you that he’s been touching me for months. That he took advantage of the fact that I was too fucking broken to say anything, to anyone. It’s not like you would’ve believed me.” You watched both Millers’ faces harden, brows furrowing as fury began sinking her talons in their flesh. Joel looked murderous, jaw set at that angle you knew meant he was livid. Good. You had been, too. Tommy looked shocked, anger painting his features, and his wife just looked terrified, eyes darting from you to Joel, wide and panicked. It made you smile at her, the curl of your mouth dripping with condescension and mockery.

“Maria, I’m so sorry you’ve had to overlook this many…grievances, let’s call them. I’ll work on my attitude here, I promise. I’ll go to book club and gossip about my husband and my dead daughter. I’ll do my hair and cut my nails and smile at people who don’t fucking deserve it. Hell, I’ll even forgive Tommy.” You pause, nodding at him, watching the relief in his eyes. Smile dropping, you meet Maria’s gaze again.

“But here’s what I won’t do- I won’t stand in a room with that asshole again without breaking all the other bones in his body. I won’t stay quiet next time his hands are on me - I’ll snap his fucking neck. Anyone else with anything else to say about Sarah - even if it’s just goddamn condolences - will find themselves in a similar predicament. Is that clear?” She blinked at you, mouth wide open at the radical transformation in you as you spoke, taking so long to nod that you doubted she’d heard you at first. You didn’t blame her - you’d folded in on yourself, made yourself small these past few years. Become meek: looking at the floor, wringing your hands; doing absolutely anything to avoid confrontation or issue. You’d been too tired to fight or stand on your own two feet, and everyone had focused on the wobble in your voice; the wet lining in your eyes; the shake of your hands, and just decided that just because you chose not to challenge them, you weren’t capable of it. Fuck that.

Joel’s eyes shone as he looked at you, chin dipping in acknowledgment as he, too, had a stunned look on his face. You just shrugged back at him, swinging your legs and getting up, walking out of the house without so much as a glance over your shoulder.

The flame that had forged your spirit - the fire burning in your veins, the one snuffed out long ago - flickered back to life. Dim, shaky, practically translucent - but ignited.

And fuck, it felt good to be back.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @breakfastatjoels, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues. dividers by me! series taglist (same rule: message/comment to be added or removed, no hard feelings): @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @planet-marz1, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin, @casa-boiardi, @noisynightmarepoetry, @chiogarza, @jasminedragoon, @daddy-din, @moonlightdivine, @stickthegremlin, @jamesmasbone, @avampiregf, @amanitacowboy

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