i have a story behind it i hope it's quite clear

K A I R O S | 05 |

/ˈkīräs/

(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

An arranged marriage AU.

Paring: OT7.
Genre: fluff, angst, a lot of suggestive parts and eventual smut.
Waring: Mild sexual content
Word count: 6.1k
Author’s note: Part 5 is the final chapter, I am discontinuing the series. An ending post with a summarized ending will be posted along with a short explanation as to why I’m discontinuing. Overall, thank you for reading guys!

Parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (M) |

“But mom, I’m not going to live with a bunch of strangers-!”

“I had the maids pack your things last night, your bags are outside.”

//

Cliche is underrated.

Especially when you just got kicked out of your own house by your ever so loving parents to stay with seven boys you’ve only heard notorious things about.

Oh, and you’re supposed to pick one to marry by the end of next month

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Imagine you tried to rob a wizard's tower

The cold stone walls close in on you. There’s fresh, clean straw under you and an empty bucket in one corner. A torch burns resolutely in the hallway. You knew this was a stupid idea. One of the boys in your village convinced you that the wizard is a fraud, that his potions are sugar water and his magical talismans are useless bits of junk. The boy dared you to sneak into the wizard’s tower, steal something, and bring it back. You agreed, but mostly to shut him up. You’re not afraid of the wizard or his alleged power. There’s no such thing as magic, after all.


The wizard’s tower was just outside of the village, at the edge of the forest. If it had any kind of guards or defenders, you’d never seen them. You snuck in through a crack in the wall and looked through shelves of bones and crystals and things you couldn’t even identify, searching for something small enough to slip into your pocket. You were startled by a noise behind you, and even more startled when you turned to look at the source. A little humanlike figure, about the size of a pigeon, sat perched on a shelf and grinned at you. It spread out its batlike wings and said something in a language you’d never heard, a few syllables that echoed strangely in the small room. Everything went black, and when you woke up, you were in a cell.

So here you are, imprisoned. There’s a man looking at you through the barred door. He’s a short and slight, with a neatly trimmed beard. You’ve seen him before, hawking the wizard’s wares in the village market, all smiles and lofty promises as he peddled healing potions and fertility charms. He is not smiling now.

“Why did you invade my tower?” he asks. “Go on, let’s hear it.”

You’ve always assumed that he was actually the wizard’s assistant, or just a hireling. He looks nothing like you’ve always pictured wizards. He’s wearing a look of extreme annoyance and the kind of tunic and trousers that wouldn’t look out of place on the village innkeeper. You don’t know what you expected. Elaborate robes and a long gray beard. For some unknowable reason, you’re unwise enough to say so.

“The robes are only for ceremonial use,” he says. “They are dreadfully uncomfortable. I can’t be bothered to wear them all the time. You break into my home, and now you expect me to walk around draped in all that nonsense just to meet your expectations?”

Lost for words, you can only shake your head.

“And what about you?” he asks, crossing his arms. “Why are you here? I warn you, I won’t take pity on you no matter how heartrending your story is. Your mother’s dying from some horrible disease the healers have never seen before? Is it your sister? Are your crops failing? I rather liked the thief who said he needed a lucky charm so he could win enough gold to pay off his gambling debts. I can imagine how he got into trouble in the first place.”

“A boy in the village dared me,” you admit, and your voice comes out as little more than a whisper. It sounds pathetic even to you. Your heart is pounding and if you weren’t still on the ground, you’d probably collapse anyway. “I only said yes so he’d shut up. I didn’t even take anything. I swear, I’ll never come here again-” You trail off as the words die in your throat.

The wizard closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “Those charms I sell in the market? Those are mere trinkets,” he says. “Little things to keep the villagers happy. You have no idea what I can really do. If you ran off with something really dangerous, you could unleash horrors you can’t even imagine. I mean hellfire raining from the skies, cattle transforming into ravenous beasts. And that would be the least of it. You could end the world.”

“I’m sorry,” you try to say, but it just comes out as a squeaking noise.

He’s still glaring at you, but something in his expression actually seems to soften a little. “Still, you’re honest,” he says. “That’s a rare trait.”

“Are you going to let me go?” you ask.

The little winged creature is sitting on his shoulder. It chitters at you and draws one slender finger across its throat.

The wizard smiles coldly. “Eventually,” he says. “I can’t let intruders just run off on their merry way. You might decide to pay me a return visit. Or tell someone that I’m soft on thievery.” He pulls a bottle out of his pocket and holds it up to the bars. It’s clear glass, with a cork trapping some clear reddish liquid inside. “Here’s the deal. Drink this, endure what’s going to happen to you, and then you can go. Don’t drink it, and you’ll stay locked in this cell forever or until I find another use for you and all those delightful organs of yours. You would not believe what you can do with a human spleen.”

You hesitate. “Endure” is a very scary word, considering your current situation. But he did promise to let you go, and whatever that potion does can’t be worse than staying locked up forever. At least, you hope not.

The potion bottle clinks against cold iron as you pull it through the bars.. It’s heavier than it looks. “What is it?” you ask, studying the contents. “What’s going to happen to me if I drink this?”

“And ruin the surprise? It will hurt,” he says. “It won’t kill you. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have bothered with the cell or dangling the thought of freedom out in front of you. I’m not that sadistic. Well, I am. But only sometimes.”

It’s still not very reassuring, but what he’s saying makes sense. He hasn’t hurt you so far, besides locking you up. And to be honest, taking his offer is the best option you have available. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll drink it. And then do you swear by the Light that you’ll let me go?”

The wizard is quiet for a moment. “The Light and I are not on particularly good terms,” he says. “But if it puts you more at ease, I swear by the Light that I’ll release you alive and unharmed.”

Somehow, it doesn’t put you at ease at all. But you believe him.

You try to open the potion bottle. The cork’s wedged in tightly and your hands are shaking too hard to pull it out. The little winged creature flutters off the wizard’s shoulder, flies right through the door, and lands beside you. Its agile fingers work the cork out easily, and the creature holds the bottle out to you expectantly. The potion smells like herbs and something you can’t quite identify.

“My familiar will have to stay here to keep you company,” says the wizard. “I can see through its eyes, and it is rather stronger than it appears. I’d advise against trying anything. Now, drink that so I can get back to work.”

Closing your eyes, you swallow the bottle’s contents. It tastes overly sweet and your throat tingles afterwards. You’re tingling all over, actually, and you can feel something shifting deep inside of you. There’s a twinge of pain deep in your belly. “What did I just drink?” you ask, trying to fight off a feeling of impending doom. “What’s happening to me?”

The wizard’s already setting off down the hallway. “You’ll see,” is all he says.

***

The familiar can’t seem to sit still. It paces up and down the length of your cell, occasionally flying out through the walls and back again. Whenever you try the walls they’re solid rock; the familiar must be able to pass through them magically. Once, you get up to try the door but the familiar just chitters at you menacingly. You sit back down and try to ignore the growing ache in your belly.

It started out as a mild annoyance, so slight you thought you were imagining it. Now it feels like someone’s punched you in the belly; not hard, but it hurts enough to be distracting. It feels like hours have passed but aside from the stomachache, nothing else seems to be happening to you. Maybe the potion really was sugar water after all. Or maybe it just didn’t work. You hope it didn’t work. Then the wizard’ll have to let you go just like he promised, right?

Your clothes are getting tighter around your middle. That’s odd. As you reach down to put a hand on your stomach, an icy rush of panic fills you. Your belly’s growing. It’s slow at first, but it soon starts growing faster. Eventually you have to strip out of your clothes just to make room for your new bulk. Once, a woman in the village gave birth to twins, and you’re bigger now than she ever was. You sit with your back against the cold stone wall and watch as you grow bigger and bigger, pinned beneath your own growing belly. Whatever’s inside you, it’s so heavy that you’re not sure you could stand up if you tried to. You run your hands over your belly, oddly fascinated by the feeling of it under your fingers. Your curiosity almost overcomes the fear.

Something slick is running out of you and down your legs to pool in the straw bedding. You wonder what’s inside you, and if it’s close to being born. Some kind of creature? You’ve heard that pregnant women can feel their babies moving, but you don’t feel anything besides a steadily growing weight. So maybe it’s not a creature.

That’s almost comforting. You’ve been imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios. Now you don’t need to worry that there’s some sort of demon beast about to claw its way out of you. Well, you weren’t worried about that before. You’re a little worried now.

All at once you feel a rush of fluid and some immense weight slipping into your passage. All your other thoughts vanish. There’s something inside you and you need to get it out, that’s all you know. You push, but you feel like the thing inside you is barely moving at all. You whimper in pain as you push harder, and you think you can feel it just barely inching its way down your passage.

You can feel your skin bulge outwards as the thing moves downwards one agonizing push at a time. The wizard said it would hurt, but this is so much worse than you feared. You feel tears streaming down your face as you try to force the thing out. You can feel it straining for release at your entrance. It’s barely half out and it’s already stretching you impossibly wide. By the Light, it feels like you’re going to split open. But you don’t, and you watch dumbfounded as an egg slides out of you.

An egg. You’re being held prisoner by a sadistic wizard, and he’s forcing you to lay eggs. It would be almost funny if you weren’t in so much pain right now. You let out a groan as another one enters your passage, begging you to squeeze it out. Again, you start to push, and again, you feel like the egg is barely moving at all. You scream, but it dissolves into helpless sobbing.

This is impossible. That first egg felt bigger than anything you could possibly squeeze out, and who knows how many more you have inside you? The wizard said he’d release you “eventually”. What does that even mean? How long does he expect to keep you here? Hours? Days? Weeks?

The familiar picks up your egg and flies out of the cell with it, apparently having no trouble carrying an object bigger than itself. You wonder where they’re going, what the wizard intends for these eggs. But then you need to push again and the effort drives everything else out of your mind.

The second doesn’t come much easier, but after another exhausting ordeal an egg drops out of you and onto the straw below. And, again, the familiar scoops it up and flies off with it to who knows where. You feel a third egg enter your passage. Then a fourth, a fifth. You’re losing count. All you can do is keep laying eggs and pray that there’s an end in sight.

They start coming faster and faster. After you birth each egg you barely have time to catch your breath before the next one starts working its way out. You barely noticed it through the haze of pain but now you realize that your belly hasn’t been shrinking. In fact, it’s growing. New eggs are forming inside you faster than you can push them out.

A horrible thought occurs to you.

“When I lay them all, that’s it?” you ask the familiar, between gasps. “He’ll let me go?”

The familiar nods excitedly.

“But-” You thought you were out of tears but now you can feel more welling up. You just keep growing more. You’ve been tricked. The wizard lied. He’s never going to let you go. You’ll just stay here in this cell forever, spewing out eggs until you die, wondering when the tide will finally stop. Your throat’s already hoarse, but you scream as another egg starts to slide down your passage.

***

You cry in relief when you notice that your belly is finally shrinking. By the end, the eggs just slide out of you with no resistance; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. Your hole is stretched beyond recognition and every part of you hurts. You lie there in the straw, too spent to move. “Please, let it be over,” you whisper. You’ll never steal anything ever again. You’ll go to the Chapel of the Light every Sun’s Day and pray for forgiveness. You’ll kill the bastard who dared you to come here in the first place.

The wizard steps into view in the hallway as his familiar carries the last egg away. “Normally I give my guests a second or third dose of the ovigenesis potion,” he says, by way of greeting. “But, well, you were honest with me. If you like, you can have this instead.”

The potion in his hands now is one you recognize. It’s one of the milky-pink healing potions he sells in the marketplace. He offers it to you and you drink it down without an argument. It takes effect almost instantly. Your pain fades and you can feel your poor, abused muscles repairing themselves. In a few minutes you feel almost as good as new. Almost.

You were too exhausted to realize that you’re still naked. Naked in front of a strange man who has you locked in a cell. Reflexively, you cover yourself.

The wizard chuckles a little. “I can see through my familiar’s eyes, remember? I’ve seen all you have to offer and I have no prurient interest in your body. To me, you’re just a source of raw materials.”

You really don’t like the way he says that. Your hands stay where they are and you look over at your discarded clothing. Your discarded, wet clothing. Ugh.

“I can clean the…assorted fluids out of your clothes. You know, with magic.” He mutters something and waves his hands. The familiar neatly folds your clothes and lays them on a dry patch of straw. “There we go. Do you have any other pressing needs? A glass of water, perhaps?”

You answer no. Actually, you’d love a cold drink of water right now but besides the healing potion, you’re not sure you’d feel safe drinking anything he might offer you.

The wizard shrugs. “As I promised, you’re alive and unharmed. Mostly unharmed, at least. My healing potion will take care of that. I’m sure you can feel it working already. When you’ve recovered, you can leave.” He turns and walks off into the darkened hallways.

Strength returns to your body and your poor, abused hole even starts to close up. When you feel confident that you can stand without falling over, you dress yourself and follow the chittering familiar out through the wizard’s dungeons. You head out through the tower’s front doors and into the night. Outside, the breeze smells sweeter than the finest perfume. You stagger home and collapse into your bed, sleeping soundly until well into the afternoon.

***

You never go near the tower again. The village boy shows up at your house the next day and asks what happened. You’re tempted to punch him, but you don’t have the strength. Instead, you tell him to fuck off as viciously as you can manage. He doesn’t bother you again.

But it doesn’t quite end there. You try to avoid the wizard’s stall on market days but somehow he’s always right in your path, and he always greets you with a wide smile and a cheerful “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer!” Sometimes, he tries to offer you a very familiar red potion. Your heart stops when you see it, but then he gives you a wink and slips the bottle back into some hidden pocket.

Lately he’s been selling “dragon’s egg” potions and carved amulets. Whenever you see them set out and glinting in the sunlight, you ache somewhere deep inside. You’re sure those eggs didn’t come out of any dragon, but you can never work up the nerve to ask.

You develop a profound sense of appreciation for chickens and egg-laying creatures of all kinds. You can never look at an omelette the same way again.

And it turns out that the potion never truly wore off. Once every few months, you’re awakened in the middle of the night by a sharp pain in your abdomen. The wizard’s familiar swoops in as you push a giant egg out of yourself, cackling to itself as it watches you strain. Laying the egg is always worse than you remember; every push feels useless, like the egg’s trying to cling to your insides out of sheer spite. Eventually it crowns and then slides out, leaving a void where your insides were stretched around it.

Every time, you wonder if this egg will really be the last one. Every time, you ask the familiar to tell the wizard you’re sorry, you never meant any harm, and can he fix what the potion did to you?

The familiar just grins at you and flies off into the night, holding your newborn egg in its arms.

(Hi! I’m deepoceanblue and when I sat down at my computer, this happened. Thanks for reading <3)

Boku No hero Academia Light Novel No.2 Translations

t/n: I overly underestimated the difference in Japanese syntax structure to that of English, and it was honestly so hard trying to translate it in a way where it’d make sense, but not stray too much from what the original writing was trying to portray?? idk but, nonetheless, I’ve come to discover my enjoyment through translating ^_^ though I’d just want to point out my Japanese is far from native, I’m terrible and have become absolute poop over the last couple months, so please when reading, please understand and excuse grammatical errors, mistakes etc. 

I also want to mention that updates or translation won’t be frequent or anything :( as I’m doing this alongside my thesis atm, but will make the effort to update parts/chapters when I have time.

and last but not least, if you can, please try to refrain from reposting and, or at least credit this post! but yeah, thank you very much and I hope you enjoy! ^_^ <3

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Haven’t Seen Her

Title: Haven’t Seen Her

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Pairing: Jacksepticeye x fem!reader

Word Count: 1766 

Summary: Jack has a new girlfriend?

A/N: This story is told as the reader is female. For my NonBinary/Male pals out there, if you would like for me to rewrite the story with genderless pronouns, just let me know and I’ll get it up as soon as possible

Originally posted by riciehmon

Jack had a new girlfriend. The internet was buzzing, his community talking about it on every form of social media. Who had managed to catch the eye of the sweet, loud, Irish boy? More importantly, how had they not noticed? The clues should have been as clear as day, not to mention all the times he mentioned you.

       The first time he mentioned you, it was a passing remark. No one really took notice of it, too occupied laughing and focused on what the Irish man was doing. Smiling, he held up a handful of containers, and a small note with scribbles on it.


       “So, I got my make up here that was so generously loaned to me. (Y/N) put a little list here for me so I knew what order to put them on.”

       The second time was a few months later, when he was doing a new and improved house tour. Not much changed, though it was always entertaining to watch the shaky camera and the happy voice accompanying it.

       “This plant is very pretty. Its not mine though, I’m just watching over it while (Y/N) visits her family.”

       Yet, the fans still didn’t seem to pick up on anything. Sure, there were a few comments here and there about what he had said, but they were buried deep in the comments section, covered by links and click bait ads.

       The third time sparked interest within his community, more and more people noticing your name popping up here and there, casually as if he had already told them who you were. Had he? Or was this a new development?

       “What’s my favourite memory of 2015? Oh, that’d have to be the time a bunch of my friends and I went on a group camping trip. It was amazing. I never really get to hang out with people as much, not that I’m complaining or anything. It was just nice to get away for the weekend. (Y/N) and I had canoed down the river, and almost got lost if it wasn’t for her being smart enough to bring a compass.”

       By now, theories began to pop up. Did Jack get a girlfriend? An old family friend? A neighbour? No one could figure it out, and Jack had given them no clues. People began writing stories, drawing art, trying to guess who you were and what you looked like. It wasn’t until the four incident, when they finally got some clue into who you were.

       “Top of the morning to you laddies. My name is Jacksepticeye!”

       Thousands of people watched in confusion as Jack sat in front of the screen, his face being the only thing seen, awe and confusion on his face as he looked off screen, and not the game that was put in the title. That wasn’t the only thing that was off. The voice of the intro, however, wasn’t his. It was a woman’s voice, melodic and teasing as she practically screamed the line he was known for. Jack laughed, slouching over the table slightly before quickly standing up, only the corner of his jaw seen of his face, whispering something to someone off screen. There was a laugh, then Jack getting pushed back into view of the camera, before the video reset, playing the intro as it should have been, as if nothing had happened. An arm, a hand, and a glimpse of hair was all they got, but it was enough to explode the internet.  

       The fifth incident was different than the others. It was a vlog, nothing too unusual for Jack to do every now and then. However, this time, he stood in front of a hair salon, his green hair faded so much it was practically yellow.

       “Top of the morning to you laddies! My name is Jacksepticeye, and welcome to another vlog! I know I’ve been doing quite a few of these lately, but this time, I’ve brought you to the hairdresser! Tons of people asked me to show me going to get my haired dyed, and the process of it. And in order to not bore myself. I’ve brought along a friend!”

       There was a cheerful hello in the background, but Jack hadn’t turned the camera, the voice hidden, and the person unknown. Was this (Y/N)? The girl that had started showing up in Jacks videos more and more? The audience waited in anticipation, enjoying themselves already.

       The video continues, Jack doing things here and there, cracking a few jokes and introducing the lady who was dying his hair. However, it was soon obvious whom he had brought with him, as the same name rang out half way through, and a woman walking behind Jack as he filmed himself looking in the mirror. The mystery girl had returned. Fans eagerly watched, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. However, the only thing they got was Jack retelling a joke you had said, or repeating a funny comment while you laughed in the background. It wasn’t until the end, when you were revealed again.

       “Don’t I look soooooo pretty!”

       Jack’s voice was high pitched, hands pulling your hair so it curled over his head, which was partially dyed to match his, as he smiled sweetly into the camera. You laughed from behind him, quickly stealing the camera, and your hair back, from his hands and flipping the camera to filming him. However, the camera had turned to your face, and for a split second, the world saw your face.

       Twitter blew up minutes after the vlog was posted, the hashtag #WhoIsJack’sNewGirlfriend? spread like wildfire, single shots of your blurry face everywhere.


       The sixth mention, wasn’t as much as a mention, but more a video. The video was titled “HAPPY WHEELS CHALLENGE…WITH A GUEST?!?!”, no mention of who it was, or if they had been on a video with him before. Fans spectated the video, starting with the intro, just as it always was. However, the camera was placed differently, so that Jack was completely visible till his waist. His arms were behind him, and two smaller hands replaced them, high-fiving the air beside the camera. Jack laughed as the hand totally failed, but continued to do his intro.

       "Top of the morning to you laddies! My name is Jacksepticeye, and welcome back to…HAPPY WHEELS! I have a very special guest with me today, (Y/N)! And this is a very stupid video we decided to do, because why not?! I’m going to have my arms behind my back, and (Y/N) is going to control the game for me, but she can’t see a thing! Hopefully this wont be a total disaster!“

       The video was full of laughs, screams, and Jacks new hands smacking his shoulder several times, which just made them laugh harder. It was hard not to laugh along, especially when Jack kept screaming while (Y/N) tried to do a spike fall. The fans hoped that they could at least see a small view of your face, however, Jacks back and shoulders covered everything that could have been seen.

       The seventh and final instance, was when the truth came out.

       Jack was filming another reading your comments video, a half a year after you were first mentioned. He started the first few as he normally did, a few silly one, a few serious ones with silly answers, and one serious one. And then, the moment of truth.

“Jack, can you please tell us who (Y/N) is? You’ve mentioned her a lot recently, and I know I’m not the one wondering. I’ve seen a lot of these comments recently, and yes, I have seen them and haven’t answered them. (Y/N) is a very special person to me, and I respect her enough not to be forcing her to do things she doesn’t want to do. She enjoys her privacy, and can be shy sometimes, so I don’t want to be forcing her to sit with me on camera, or be constantly filming what we do. When (Y/N) and I hang out, I don’t have to pretend with her. Not that I’m saying I pretend when I talk to you guys, but when I film, I constantly have to make things interesting, keep the energy going. (Y/N) is my rock, and I couldn’t imagine her not being in my life. When she’s ready, maybe she’ll introduce herself to you, but for now, please don’t pressure her into anything she doesn’t want to do. If you haven’t figured it out, (Y/N) is my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for almost eight months now, and honestly I’m so happy. I love her to death, and I hope you guys will love her just as much as I do. Okay, maybe not that much.”

       He ended the question with a giggle, and that was that.
     
       Of course you were mentioned more and more over the course of the year, Jacks face lighting up at your name and the stories he told. He apologized most of the time when a story got away from him about the two of you, but instead if receiving hate or comments that told him they didn’t want to hear stories about you, all the comments were positive. They loved hearing stories about you, about the life Jack had outside of YouTube. As soon as he started mentioning you, others did as well. Mark, Felix, and even Ken mentioned you at least once in their videos, excited for Jack and happy that he found someone to love as much as they had. Mark of course had to be the odd man out and have a whole story on one of his videos, but the fans loved it, laughing about how you got lost at the mall with them and had to huddle next to him until you two managed to find Jack again.

       It wasn’t until a year and a half later, when you were finally introduced to the world. It wasn’t a video like most hoped, a picture was what revealed you. Your face wasn’t in it completely, you were turned away, just the side of your face being seen, but Jack was full center. The pictured seemed almost better than a video when everyone saw the smiles on yours and Jacks face as he held your hand up, a ring on your ring finger sparkling in the light, did they realize that they didn’t need to see you to know that you made Jack incredibly happy. And that was enough for them.

slow hands

Preview:  You just kind of stare at him for a moment, and you don’t know who makes the first move but suddenly you’re pressed up against your door and he’s kissing you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You find that you’re not surprised, because it is natural. You’re a little bitter that it took so long, yeah, but you know that right here, with him kissing the breath straight from your lungs, is where you belong; where you’ve always belonged.

Word Count: 5497

Warnings: SMUT, pure and simple. SMUT SMUT SMUT. Light bondage if you squint. Ye be warned.

Notes: This is basically an excuse for me to write smut tbh. I’ve been in such a slump lately with school and everything else, so i was happy to accept any excuse to write. This fic is probably the filthiest smut I’ve ever written. It was inspired, in part, by Niall Horan’s “Slow Hands”, which has been playing in my head nonstop since I heard it. Tagging @jaaystodd and @dicckgrayson, because they had to endure my screaming about this.  I hope you guys enjoy!

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Missing scene ficlet from Emma’s first night home, right after Killian comes back inside from David shrugging of his help with harsh words. (very mild M rating)


He’s thankful for the door at his back keeping him steady as a lightheadedness overcomes him at the whiplash of emotions hitting him all at once. It was just a few minutes ago when he’d looked around the kitchen at the family sipping at their glasses, smiling and hugging, realizing that he no longer felt like an outsider. There were no sidelong glances his way during that toast, no raised eyebrows from Regina or scoff from David, just a loving look from Emma as if he was the most important one in the room. He’s was in this. He had a home, a family larger and more complicated than he ever could have imagined. He finally felt like he had a place in it.

But the words David has just spoken has simply reminded him of how far off he is from ever deserving any of it. Killian’s past is something from which he will never escape, but he’d hoped David had seen his attempts to change. Shaking his head, he tries to remind himself that David is on the edge of delirious, overtired and scared. Lashing out is an understandable response in these circumstances. He’s certainly done his fair share of that. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before letting it out slowly through his nose, a trick he’d taught young sailors feeling their first bout of seasickness on choppy waters. The future he wants, the one taking shape around him, in this house, in every one of Emma’s smiles, he’ll weather any storm in order to grasp it. Tomorrow, he will step into that tempest, one way or another.

Leaving his coat on the hook and his boots by the door, he heads up the stairs, pausing on the landing when he hears Emma’s voice drifting quietly from Henry’s room at the end of the hall. The door isn’t closed, but he senses the need for privacy and leaves them to their conversation. Once inside the master bedroom, he closes the door and begins to undress, dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper in their impossibly large closet piece by piece. He will do laundry tomorrow, he thinks, wash everything from the time Emma was away as if that can erase the feelings of having her gone. His hand reaches out to feel for the box hidden in the pocket of his leather duster, needing a tactile reminder of all he is fighting for.

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Hades!Harry pt. 1

  A/N: “Could you write about Hades!Harry??xx” I’ve never written anything like this before but i was so excited to step out of my comfort zone. I got a bit carried away so there will be a Part 2. Enjoy!


    Y/n didn’t find herself in scary situations that often. Her days consisted of tending to the crops, making sure her younger siblings are fed three times a day, and treading the two hour journey to the nearest market to sell anything she possibly could for extra cash. Her routine had been this way since her parents were killed out at sea a year ago. That’s all she knows; no major details or even a chance to bid them farewell.  

   They left, one morning, with the intention to trade goods with villagers that resided a couple hundred miles east of the Atlantic. They promised her and her two younger brothers that they would return in a month’s time. Unfortunately, the day after they departed, Y/n received a knock at the door and an unsealed letter with no return address stating that her Mother and Father had died. 

  “Ship caught fire. There were no survivors, sorry for you loss” 

    Y/n had been only seventeen at the time, but her wisdom was well beyond her years. It was that very wisdom that allowed her to take charge of the household and become the new guardian for her brothers. She wouldn’t call the death of her Parents ‘scary’. Incredibly tragic? Yes. But she had been raised to take on challenges when they’re thrown at her.

   The girl always stood by that, even when she found herself being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by two dark figures. She kicked, flailed and scratched every chance she got. There was no way they would take her without a fight. The brawny black figures had managed to pin her down to the bed and tie her hands behind her back with chains. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face as they picked her up and made their way towards the door. She began to wonder how she had not heard them break the door down. 

 'God I’m so stupid’ she thought to herself, though she knew very well that even if she had heard them break into the cottage, she would’ve ended up in the very same position.

   Just before they carried her passed the boys’ room, she was able to peek in and see that they were staring back at her in sheer terror. Her heart broke. She was helpless and she knew they felt the same. It was obvious that whoever these people were, didn’t take an interest in the children and that was the only bright side she could find in this predicament. They throw her in the back of a horse-pulled carriage, one of the men stayed in the back to make sure she didn’t escape somehow. The floor of the carriage was covered in dirt and hay, the walls of it were just high enough to hide her from anyone passing by.

   The man beside her, who she could now see was wearing all black armor, proceeded to tie a cloth of some sort across her mouth to prevent any screaming. He left her nose exposed, which gave her the idea that they wanted her alive for some reason. 

 Numerous hours later

 The sun began to rise and she regained consciousness. She didn’t remember falling asleep but she couldn’t blame herself, she’s human.  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, which caused her to hit the top of her head on the wooden barrier. “mmh!” She groaned in pain; the man that had sat with her the entire night, flashed her an unapologetic smile. A few seconds later she was being lifted once again and pulled out of the cart. 

  She took this opportunity to look around and try to figure out where the hell they had taken her. It was like nothing she’d ever seen.

 Before her, stood a castle, bathed in charcoal colored bricks and dressed with Gargoyles at the large, Redwood double-doors. Her feet were still bare and she couldn’t help but wince every time she stepped on a pebble. The armor clad men showed no remorse as they pushed and pulled her every which way. The doors opened slowly, almost as if the structure itself had been expecting her.

  Once inside, her feet were brought relief by the cold marble flooring in the corridor; her eyes darting across the room. She spied million dollar paintings, two grand stair cases, and several stone pillars that kept the manor standing. It was hard to miss the other knight-like men who were posted at just about every corner. Without a moment to think she was, yet again, being guided rather roughly to a location that remained unknown to her. She gave up fighting a long time ago, figuring that if she kept her sanity in tact, she may be able to think up a way to save herself or find someone who can.

  They dragged her up the set of stairs to the left, and through a massive hallway. The walls in this particular area were made, not of wood or stone, but of skulls. Hundreds, possibly thousands of skulls, bound together to form a wall. She wondered how they did it, and if those people had been killed for that dumb reason. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if her head would be an addition to the foyer. After examining the enclosure, she decided to look straight ahead. 

There at the end of the hallway, was another set of cherry colored doors. one door was slightly ajar and it allowed her to peek inside, the same way she did as she passed the room of her brothers not so long ago. She saw what looked to be a bed, a big one; garmented in a duvet the color of blood.

A bedroom?

They dropped her, upon their arrival to the room. They finally removed the chains from her arms as well as the cloth from her mouth. She fell to the floor, her arms covered in bruises and welts. She turned to face the men and opened her mouth to demand answers but was cut off off by the sound of another. A deep, raspy voice; coming from somewhere in the spacious room. 

“So glad you could make it”

She turned back to face the front, eyes locking with a man. He was tall and fit. He was someone she had seen before, she just couldn’t put her finger on where. “do i- hmm” she started but had stop and clear her throat, it had been hours since she had some water. “do i know you?” she asked, sheepishly. Something about his presence intimidated her.

“Yes and no” he smirked. He sauntered over to where she was sitting on the ground, rubbing at her sore arms. He crouched down to her level “you’ve probably seen me in an old carving or something of the sort” he ran his index finger across her jaw. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘i’m Harry. Although, if we’re being cordial I should give you my real name” he sighed. “Hades, lord of the underworld”. He studied the blank expression she was giving him. 

“I mean I added that bit about the underworld. Has a nice ring to it” he stated She still said nothing. “I’m not fond of it either, that’s why I make people call me Harry” he smiled before standing. She stared up at him, swallowing what moisture she had left in her dry mouth. 

“oooh don’t look at me like that” he chuckled. biting his bottom lip.

She clears her throat again “Why am I here?” her voice is smaller than its ever been. Part of her hoped he didn’t hear, afraid of how he would react. “Well, doll” He breathed. “I’ve been lonely for quite some time now. I used to have a lovely wife but….let’s just say….I let my temper get the best of me one evening” he snickered. She heard the men behind her stifle their laughter as well. 

“Anyways, i want another but I have standards. I’m five thousand years old, i’m not getting any younger and I know what you’re going to say ‘Harry you don’t look a day over twenty-three!’” he shrilled in a high pitched nasally voice. 

“I wasn’t going to say any-”

“Shh! I haven’t finished my monologue” he interjects. She, boldly, rolled her eyes.

“Long story short, you’re a smart, headstrong, young woman. I started watching you after your parents died…sorry about that by the way it wasn’t my intention” he confessed. Her eyes widened but she was frozen in shock by what she  had just heard. She waited for him to explain what he meant by that.

“I had gotten in a fight with Poseidon and it got a little out of hand I really am sorry, darling” his voice was filled with atonement. He looked back to her, searching for any sign of forgiveness. Even though was was the god of all things bad, he still possessed somewhat of a heart. She nodded, sensing a little bit of guilt in his words.

“What i’m trying to say here is, You’re my new Wife!” he declared. 

where the sun and stars meet

masterlist

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader (oh my word, she’s done it, she’s written a non-Lin fic, holy moly, we never thought this day would come)

Summary: He knew you well enough to know when you were forgetting to breathe.

Note: i fell straight into rafa hell and apparently this is how i decided to handle it lmao. @fragmentofmymind and @alexanderhamllton had to deal with my yelling about this so go give them extra love THEY DESERVE ALL OF IT I LOVE THEM A LOT. 

okay omg i love you guys and i hope you enjoy the garbage, feel free to come yell at me about it <3

Word Count: approx. 4500? (guys it’s a ONE-SHOT ARE YOU PROUD)


Being a twenty-eight year old woman living in Los Angeles could be tough.

In six years of residence in the city of stars, you had realized that sometimes the lights weren’t so much sparkling as they were blinding. Blinding of the goals you’d set out to achieve, the paths to get there, the hope and promise of a state drowning in sunshine and smog. Although you had never expected it to be, the journey wasn’t easy.

Sure, you’d had plenty of dancing gigs during your time there so far, but your heart was in choreography and you were determined to keep working until you made that goal happen. You knew that you were talented, that when you were in your flow you could tell stories and string together phrases and characters with even the most subtle pieces of movement. Every once in awhile, though, you lost your flow.

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Stony post-cw fix-its recs (MCU mainly)

Since I didn’t have the time to actually create anything for the 10th Anni of Stony, this rec list is my pseudo-contribution.

Since I don’t know how to make it a part of the event otherwise (sorry!), I’m just going to tag @cap-ironman

For more recs, check out this post by @civilwarbrokemyheart. I’m not going to repeat the recs that are already there.

This is in no particular order, and the fics are loosely grouped by absolutely arbitrary criteria :)

Mind the ratings, I guess.

Enjoy!

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Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

“Expulsion?” Newt breathed the word like he was afraid and all you could do was nod meekly; eyes shining with unshed tears.

“The, the, the Headmaster gave me an hour to gather my things and, and, and Pro, pro, professor Dumbledore is supposed to take me home.” You sobbed; burying your face in your hands, missing the flash of agony and guilt that crossed your best friend’s face.

“Oh, (Y/n)…” he said and pulled you into a tight hug as you cried.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whimpered, “I don’t wanna go!”


Your parents greeted you with open arms and you nearly collapsed in relief.

“Oh sweetie,” your mother cooed and your father squeezed the two of you into a massive bear hug. Your professor shifted in the background and you turned to face him, sniffling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “thank you so much.” The smile he gave you was sad, but there was a glimmer of pride in his ice blue eyes.

“What happened to you was unjust,” he replied, “and I could not, in good faith, stand by and do nothing.”

“Still,” you curled your fists, “without you, I’d have lost my wand too.”

“True,” he agreed calmly, “though I admit that I can do very little else for you except for this.” With a flourish, he pulled out a folded bit of parchment and handed it to you. You took it without complaint, ripping it open and reading its contents greedily. Your mother smacked your shoulder lightly, appalled by your rude behavior.

You didn’t care, too busy drinking in the information that your favorite teacher had given you. Your father laughed and brought your mother in close as she fumed.

“You can take the girl out of Ravenclaw, but you can’t take the Ravenclaw out of the girl. Just like someone else I know.”

You ignored them in favor of meeting Dumbledore’s patient stare.

“Ukraine?” You asked incredulously, “you want me to go to Ukraine?”

“It may not sound glamorous, but it will get you out of the country and away from the public eye.” You didn’t need to be told twice.

“I’ll do it.”


Your mother spent the next month and a half trying to convince you to stay or at least go somewhere safe, like America.

You shot her down every time.

Finally, your day of departure arrived and both you and your parents stood outside; staring down at the portkey that would be taking you to your mission site. Your mother cried.

“Love, please,” she begged, “please, think this out. It’ll be cold and you’ll be the only woman there! I can’t, in good consciousness, let you go!”

“Mum,” you said softly; bringing her in for a hug. “I need this, don’t you understand? I can’t even go to the Leaky Cauldron without people recognizing me. At least this way I’ll be able to recover some semblance of my reputation.”     

She sniffed.

“Fine, if I can’t convince you, maybe he will.”

“He” turned out to be none other than Newt Scamander.

You blinked in shock, not believing what you were seeing.

“Newt?” You stepped forward; hand reaching out to touch his face before you stopped yourself. He nodded shyly, but refused to meet your eye.

“Hello.”

“Wha, what are you doing here?” It was a valid question. Ever since your expulsion, you hadn’t heard a thing from the redhead.

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to search your face before drifting away again.

“Your mum called, said you were about to do something monumentally stupid and that she needed me to talk you out of it.”

You bit back a groan.

“Of course she would,” you muttered; pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, Newt, I’m so happy to see you, I really am, but my portkey is about to leave and I just, I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Deal with what?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice, but you were so caught up with your own problems at the time to notice.

“Deal with this!” You snapped; throwing your hands up in the air. “For the past month I’ve been treated like some sort of criminal for something I didn’t even do! And now, now that I have the chance to get away from the looks and, and, and the gossip, my own mother tries to blackmail me into staying!” Newt stiffened and a dark look crossed his face.

“No one asked you to take the fall.” He spat and you were thoroughly surprised at the bitterness behind his words. Despite it, you let out a humorless laugh.

“Yes, I did, because if I hadn’t, you would’ve.”

There was a brief moment of silence and you let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Newt,” you finally said, “I don’t want to argue and I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go.”  He immediately deflated and he looked so heartbroken that you almost wanted to stay. Almost.

“Will you write?” You bit your bottom lip and gave him a helpless shrug.

“I’ll try, but…” His moss green eyes sharpened at your hesitation and he stepped forward; dwarfing your small form.

“Merlin’s beard, your Mum was right. You are doing something monumentally stupid.”

“…”

He slumped forward; resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing?”

Merlin, you wanted to. You’d wanted to tell him since the beginning, but you knew better. The minute she asked, Newt would crumble like paper in the rain and you couldn’t risk it. Not now.

“No, I can’t.”

You could practically see him frown at that and his next words were muffled by your hair.

“I promise not to tell her.”

“That’s what you said when I told you about Eddie Redmayne. Next thing I know, half of Hogwarts was talking about how we did it in the Potion’s cupboard.” He went to retort, but your pocket watch chimed softly and you pulled away to check it.

“I’ve got less than a minute.” You said and he sighed softly.

“You’re still going to go?”

“I have to.”


You barked orders in Russian and the men scrambled to meet them as you drew Hayden’s attention towards you.

“Here love, here! That’s right, that’s right, keep your eyes on me. Ignore the silly men and their silly scrambling.”

The ironbelly roared and flapped his wings; puffs of smoke escaping from his nostrils as he snorted.

“I know, sweetie, I know, but you have to calm down. I promise, everything will be okay, okay? Now be a good boy for mummy and go hunt yourself some dinner. I’m feeling very particular to goat, what about you?”

He let out another roar before lifting off, wind snapping at your hair and clothes as he did so.

After a tense second or so, you relaxed and made an attempt to fix your ruffled appearance. Just as you finished fluffing up your hair, Aventin ran up to you, letter in hand. Absentmindedly, you ruffled the boy’s hair before dropping a sickle into his palm.

Making your way back to your tent, you flipped over the envelope and grinned when you saw Newt’s familiar scrawl. Breaking the seal, you skimmed over its content, the smile that had been on your face slowly sliding off as you did so.

Your legs stopped moving as you reread his final sentence.

Leta and I plan on marrying in the spring and I hope you’ll be back before hand.

He might as well have slapped you in the face.

After everything that girl had put him through, put you through, he wanted to marry her!?

Merlin’s beard, you’d gotten yourself expelled because of her!

Swearing loudly, you ripped up his letter and stomped back into your tent.


Half a bottle of vodka later and you were in the middle of scribing a rather nasty sounding letter to your (former) best friend when Dumbledore apparated in.

He took in your teared stained face and the death grip you had on the neck of your bottle before sighing and vanishing away both the alcohol and your poorly thought out letter.

“I see you received the news.”

You nodded and whimpered; sobbing into his chest as he drew you in for a hug.

“It hurts now, but I promise you, my dear, it lessens with time.”


You didn’t go to the wedding, not because you didn’t want to (you really hadn’t wanted to), but because you were recovering at St. Mungo’s after a nasty accident involving Hayden and a Ministry official.

(The man was still blubbering for the ironbelly’s death.)

Dumbledore sauntered into your hospital room with a bouquet and a sack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. You forced a small smile.

“Flowers from the wedding?”

He chuckled at that; transfiguring the hard plastic seat into something more cushy before sitting down.

“Alas, it was Madame Longbottom that caught it, not I.”

You nodded; sinking back into your pillow tiredly.

“I see.”

There was a stretch of silence and you watched with mild amusement as your former teacher picked through the sweets.

“He was quite disappointed when you didn’t show.” He finally said as he bit into something bright green with unnattractive yellow spots. His face gave away nothing as he chewed.

“Forgive me,” you said dryly, “but his wedding was the farthest thing from my mind as I kept an entire colony of dragons from eating my company.”

“I’d say you were lying, but now that I see you, I’m more inclined to believe your dragon story.”

Your head snapped up to see Newt leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes taking in everything as he stared at your bedridden form. Your heart sunk when you caught sight of the gold band on his hand.

“Newt.”

“Merlin, (Y/n),” he muttered, “what were you thinking?”

“If I’m being honest, it was something along the lines of ‘holy Rowena, it’s hot as balls’ and ‘I think there went my left eyebrow’.”

“You know what I mean. What were you doing with dragons!?”

You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eye.

“I can’t tell you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the room.

“And why not?”

“Because.”

Because you’ll tell Leta, who’ll tell that sewing circle of hers, which may or may not doom the entirety of Britain.

As if reading your mind, (you wouldn’t be surprised if he could if you were being honest) Albus cleared his throat and took your hand in a fatherly manner.

“Ah yes, about that, my dear. The Ministry has decided that, in light of recent developments, to cancel the project.”

“What!? Why!?”

At the same time, Newt asked:

“What Ministry project? (Y/n), when did you start working for the Ministry?”

You ignored him, (e/c) eyes shining with frustration.

I swear, if that quivering pile of shite has done anything…

“Surely, my dear, you’ve noticed that you’re the only one Hayden and his brood respond to, yes?” Another jelly bean passed his lips. “Ever since you’ve been hospitalized no one’s managed to get into the sanctuary, let alone to the ironbellies.”

Ironbellies!?”

“So that’s it?” Your hands were gripping tightly at your hair and you drew your knees up so you could rest your elbows on them. “A year and a half of my life wasted and I’ve got nothing to show for it except for a set of unattractive scars.”

“Of course not. The tamers were quite impressed and wrote a glowing recommendation to the Minister. Due to their kindness,” here you made a mental note to send your former team something nice, “you now have an offer at a position in the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

…scratch that, you were going to murder them as soon as you were discharged.

Poker

A/N: so this was supposed to go up on Friday in honour of our super soldier’s 100th birthday but I was away for a wedding and had no time to put this up. Hope you enjoy this fluffy piece I put together xx

Summary: It’s Bucky’s 100th, there’s a poker game going on, and you’re stuck in Spain with a marmot. 

Word count: 2,242

Warnings: a couple swear words

You were late. You  were so late. You planned to be back at the compound almost five hours ago now, but a storm had ripped your plans to shreds and you had been forced to wait in the quinjet in the midst of the Pyrenees mountains along the border of Spain and France. You were alone except for the marmot that seemed to be following you around but niether you nor the marmot were enough of an expert pilot to navigate the jet through a storm this sizable. With a dying phone, you had managed to contact Clint and let him  know that you were safe but also forced to wait out the heavy wind and rain. 

You were lucky that your mission hadn’t resulted in you getting too scuffed up; after some file retrieval, you simply had some difficulty getting back to the quinjet thanks to the start of the storm so the only damage was that you were starting to sweat despite the cold temperature of the mountain. 

You were beyond pissed at yourself and this weather - tonight was poker night. You usually played on Thursdays but since Bucky loved it and today was his birthday, there was a huge poker session going on at the compound. 

Right.

It was also your boyfriend’s birthday. 


Tony sighed sharply as he tossed the watch that evolved into the protective glove onto the growing pile of poker chips in the centre of the coffee table. He was met with confused eyes.

‘I’m out of chips,’ he argued and Clint and Steve snickered at the emptiness in front of him.

‘That means you’re out of the game,’ Natasha corrected. ‘You can’t even call, Stark.’

‘Let him play,’ Bucky smirked, meeting Tony’s eye. ‘That watch’ll come in handy. Maybe I’ll have Steve hit it around a little with his shield.’

Tony glared at him. ‘You’re pretty confident, Robocop.’

‘Says the man with no chips left,’ Bucky countered, and Tony’s eyes drifted to the columns of colourful poker chips that surrounded the soldier like a small fortress. 

‘Why does everyone think it’s a good idea to give shit to the man who shelters you?’

Sam reached behind him to the bookshelf; he brought and held out a glass jar to Tony who sighed and dug around in his pockets, only to pull out an expensive fountain pen which he then put into the jar.

‘You guys think I just carry around cash?’

‘We use the swear jar to pay for our annual dinner at Masa. We can’t pay with a pen,’ Steve argued. 

‘Someone remind me why Steve’s even part of that?’ Clint piped up. ‘’s far as I’m aware, it’s only Sam, Nat, Tony, Barnes and I who even contribute enough to earn that dinner.’

‘Cap’s put in more than you think,’ Nat reasoned, a taunting smile playing across her lips as she tossed twenty dollars worth of chips on the coffee table to stay in the game. ‘First time, he put ten bucks instead of one, he felt so bad.’

How do you know that?’ Steve cried, as Clint fell back cackling. 

Bucky watched with bright eyes the people around him, taking the scene in as a break from the game. The remnants of his birthday cake (which were the parts that had been covered in candle wax thanks to Natasha’s brilliant idea of stuffing exactly one hundred candles on the surface) lay forgotten in the kitchen. Packaging from the take out from Bucky’s favourite diner lay scattered around them as they played. The lights were dim, the background music was nostalgic, the food was good (there was still another bag of burgers left to get through) and Bucky was holding a full house (three queens, two jacks) in his hand. Plus, this June would mark his first ever Swear Jar Dinner at New York’s most expensive restaurant, a tradition that had only started two years ago.

When Bucky had first come back into the world, his birthday was the last thing on his mind. He had confronted his mortality in many ways other than celebrating a year past. And then, to his surprise, this was the night he was met with. For some reason, he hadn’t thought birthdays were on the Avengers’ agendas but he realised that he appreciated the sentiment. After a moment of bashfulness when the cake was presented to him with Sam recording his reaction, Bucky found himself melting into the custom.

There was no existential crisis; there was no breakdown. Bucky knew he was older than time should have allowed, in a world much different to the one he used to be rooted in, but he had confronted these worries and discomforts on so many other occasions.

It should have been perfect. Poker, food, the prospect of winning Tony’s mechanical glove. Except you were missing. The last contact he had had with you was before you had left on your mission; the last word he heard was from Clint who said you were waiting out a storm. Bucky knew you would be alright - at least, he hoped and convinced himself - but in simple terms, he wished you were with him.

‘I checked the forecast,’ Steve muttered, as if reading Bucky’s mind. ‘The storm’s clearing, I’m sure she’s left by now.’ 

After another twenty minutes of game play (Tony having thrown in another watch and his glasses), the round had come to an end when Clint lay down his hand, showing four aces and a king.

Sam groaned loudly, almost like a battle cry, and threw his arm through the bettings, making them scatter all over the table. 

‘This fucking close,’ he grumbled, throwing his cards down to show a full house with tens and jacks. 

Bucky grinned sheepishly, completely unwavered by Clint’s win, or Sam’s frustration. ‘Not quite, Pigeon Toes,’ he smirked, laying his own cards down for him to see. The icing on the cake had been Tony’s junk of a hand - a melting pot of threes, twos, and fives. 

‘There you go, birthday boy,’ Clint succumbed, sloppily tossing Tony’s mechanical watch to Bucky, who smoothly caught it and grinned, as Sam stuffed a dollar bill into the jar. ‘I’ll let you keep that. Give ‘im hell.’

Bucky held the watch up as if toasting him. 


By the time you reached the compound, it was nearing two o’clock in the morning and you had managed to leave the marmot behind in the mountains. A heavy weight rested in your stomach; this was Bucky’s first birthday he would actually celebrate since before the Second World War and you missed it. You knew Bucky was in good hands while you were away and you knew that Bucky wouldn’t actually be upset with you because it wasn’t like him to get upset over something like this. But that only made you want to be there more because Bucky deserved the small pockets of happiness amongst the big ones. 

You landed the quinjet in the hangar; your tactical suit was unzipped halfway so that its torso hung around your hips revealing the full-sleeved black t-shirt you wore underneath. Your boots were caked in melting snow-covered mud; consciously, you ran your fingers through your hair to tame it after having it attacked by the rough winds and went to see if Bucky was still awake.

Poker tournaments tended to last a while so you figured he was. 

When you exited the lift, however, you were met with minimal sound. You walked through the corridor and saw Steve leave the kitchen; he turned when he heard your footsteps.

‘Nice to see you in once piece,’ he grinned amusingly, but you could see relief in his eyes. The guy had so worried about you while you were gone. 

‘You guys finished?’ you asked quietly. 

‘Yeah, not long ago.’ Steve didn’t look pissed; his eyebrows weren’t creasing in the disappointed father style they tended to do. Good signs. 

You groaned. ‘I can’t believe I missed it,’ you grumbled self-deprecatingly. ‘How was it?’

‘Tony went bankrupt and then started using his actual possessions to stay in the game; he was bluffing the whole time and lost anyway. Sam threw a tantrum.’

‘Sounds like the best time,’ you smirked. ‘Did Bucky have fun?’

‘He did,’ Steve replied. ‘It was nice to see actually. He’s still awake I think, he’ll be happy you’re back.’

You smiled at him, making your way to Bucky’s room; you caught a glimpse of the living room - leftover poker chips and a deck of cards messily packed up and the scent of burgers from the diner you had been to a few times with Bucky lingered in the air. You could tell you missed a good night. 

Bucky’s door was ajar, you pushed it open further and knocked on the door frame, standing in the entrance to his room. 

‘Hey, Soldier.’ 

Bucky, who had been sitting on the edge of his bed reading a book, looked up, seeming thrown for a moment before he regarded you with the same warmth he always had done. Light blue eyes blanketed in familiar comfort. 

He smiled and stood up, walking towards you and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite the dirt on your clothes. You instinctively reciprocated, your arms going around his waist and head buried in his chest, the material of his t-shirt soft (much softer than the tree trunk you had fallen into earlier in the mountains, but that was another story). 

It was quiet for a moment, Bucky’s face buried in your hair before he spoke.

‘Hey,’ he murmured, the simplicity making you snicker.  

‘Happy -’ You glanced at the clock on his wall ‘- belated birthday, Bucky.’

He kissed your forehead and lead you to sit down on his bed with him. 

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, hands running over you arms like he was checking for wounds. 

You smirked at his worry. ‘I’m fine, Bucky, I promise.’

‘I missed you,’ he said just as quietly but you detected no disappointment in his voice. 

You nuzzled his neck and pulled his arm around your shoulders, completely unable to tear yourself away form him. He was so warm and soft. 

‘I would say the same but,’ you sighed, ‘the marmot I ran into was much more interesting so …’ 

Bucky nudged your ribs making you squeal lightly and jolt in his arms at the contact. 

‘Bucky, ‘m so sorry I wasn’t here,’ you groaned quietly. 

‘’s okay, I’m not mad,’ he murmured back. ‘I knew you wanted to be here; I get the job, doll, I do the same one,’ he joked. 

You leaned down to untie your boots. 

‘Steve said you all had a good time. You owe me a game, Solider.’

‘Clint kicked our asses and we didn’t even see it coming. Sam took it hard.’

‘He can be such a brat when he loses,’ you giggled, already coming up with ways to tease him for when you saw him next. ‘He’s great though.’

‘Is Sam as great as the marmot?’

‘Nothing will ever be as great as the marmot.’

You rested a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, toying softly with his hair. He hummed appreciatively, leaning into your touch.

‘Tony put a pen in the Swear Jar.’

‘Doesn’t he just carry out cash at all times?’

‘Apparently not. We’ll treat it like a placeholder, I guess.’

‘Was it one of his fountain pens? Those things can be like two hundred dollars a piece.’ 

Bucky traced patterns along your shoulder, playing with your hair and brushing it aside, making goosebumps rise all over your skin. 

‘I can’t believe you’re a hundred years old,’ you admitted. ‘We joked about it but now it’s actually true.’

can’t believe I’m a hundred years old,’ Bucky murmured. ‘It’s kind of the same feeling I got when I turned twenty-five - that I was finally getting old. Now I am old.’

‘Did you have an existential crisis over the passing of time and age?’ you asked, your tone slightly teasing. 

‘I actually didn’t,’ Bucky admitted. ‘I just … I’m one hundred years old.’ 

You snickered at the tone of wonder in his voice. 

Bucky was quiet for a while, fingers still tracing patterns on your skin; leaning into his chest, you could feel him relaxing into your touch.

‘You know, when I was in college, I said that the maximum age gap I would accept between me and the guy I would end up with would be, like, four years or something.’

‘I think I’ve exceeded that, doll.’

‘Only a little,’ you reasoned humorously.

‘A couple years,’ Bucky bargained, pretending to be completely serious. ‘’m glad you could make an exception for me,’ he snickered.

‘A couple years,’ you agreed fondly. ‘For what it’s worth, you don’t look a day over eighty-four.’

Doll,’ Bucky sighed with feigned sentiment, ‘that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.’

You chuckled at him. ‘You’re such a loser,’ you muttered. ‘But before I forget, I need to give you your birthday present.’

‘[Y/N], you di-’

‘I swear, James, I will ban you from our Masa dinners.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Bucky chuckled, still not letting go of your hand. ‘Just, later, yeah?’

You smiled questioningly at him but allowed him to pull you back onto the bed anyway. 

‘What are you doing, Buchanan?’ 

‘I love you,’ he murmured as though that offered an explanation, pulling you to his chest where you nuzzled comfortably. ‘Just wanna lie here.’

‘Bucky, I smell like a forest,’ you groaned tiredly. 

‘Shh, ‘s fine.’

You felt him draw the blanket at the foot of his bed over you, the two of you getting lost in the hazy warmth of his room and each other’s comfortable body heat. Bucky’s fingers were trailing through your hair.  

‘What even is a marmot?’ he asked after some time.

You blinked. ‘’m not even sure. It kind of looked like a beaver. Maybe they’re snow beavers.’ 

‘You must be a scientist or somethin’, doll,’ Bucky murmured sardonically, snickering when you flicked the back of his head sharply. 

‘For all you know, I could be. Part of day I’m an Avenger. Other part of day, I’m a  zoologist.’

He smirked lazily.

‘Bucky?’ Your tired tone paralleled his.

‘[Y/N]?’

‘I don’t want to keep you up if you’re tired.’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘I get the sentiment,’ you mumbled, ‘but ‘m really hungry.’

‘Burgers?’

‘Oh my God, yes. Can we play poker, too?’

The story of us.

I was told, very kindly, by the amazing @jemscorner my lovely friend @takemeawaytocamelot that there might be a small interest in sharing how my husband’s and I’s cross cultural relationship (a born and bred celtic and very traditional Irishman and a wild brassy American woman) real life parallels Jamie and Claire.

@bonnie-wee-swordsman she would be interested in the crazy story of how we met as well. I think it would be easiest to star there and, if anyone is indeed interested, share a few posts from there. (Please know that I am in no way implying that the epic love story that is Jamie and Claire in anyway comes close to my own life. Only that through reading the books I found some very fun moments that reminded me of my own marriage and thought would be fun to share.)


I really felt for Claire, having to decide within months of meeting Jamie, to chose to follow her unexpected deep new found love, or be sensible and stay with her life on its stable, planned track. To risk it all, give up all she knew, live in a country with its own cultural rules, where she is an outsider. I faced something smaller but similar.

At 19 I was going to college full time, had a job, a car, and took care of my grandparents in California, where I was born. On Thanksgiving I was not able to travel with my grandparents to an extended family dinner. I was tearful at work realizing that I would be on my own for the holiday, when my boss at the University saw. She was from Ireland but had settled in California. She insisted I join her family. It was extremely kind but I was slightly terrified of how awkward it would be. Luckily for me she absolutely refused to take no for an answer.

So, at 10am Thanksgiving morning I found myself nervously walking down the street to my boss’ house. I immediately saw my soon to be husband taking with my boss and her neighbor at the door. My first thought was “shit, she has other guests. This will be so stressful.”

My husband’s mum grew up with my boss in Ireland. My boss was like his auntie and a very established professor and department head. She had told him a ‘colleague’ was comming to Thanksgiving dinner. He expected someone of similar age, not a 19 year old American girl.
My husband then spent the next several hours flirting with me while I acted a deer in the headlights, trying to be polite, professional and worthy of dinner at my prestigious boss’ home.
It finally clicked for me at dessert (thanks to a Father Ted quote of all things) that he was interested. We had a lovely night and, as he walked me back to my car, asked if he could see me again. I was more than busy at this time in my life (work, school, nursing my grandfather) but jokingly said I had the weekend off for the holiday.

My husband: Great what time can I pick you up tomorrow?
Me: Ha! Well, I like to sleep in…
My husband: 9am tomorrow then.

9am the next day the biggest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen was staring at me through the key hole.

Unbeknownst to me, during Thanksgiving my grandfather’s cancer had taken a new turn. He was suddenly confused and not himself. My grandmother took him home and didn’t tell me much of what was bothering him.

So we had our date. A day of hiking arround the hills by the ocean and then a movie (Love Actually). It was amazing but I was clear that I was not looking for a relationship. And he was only in the US for a few weeks visiting. At the end of the date he asked to take me out again Sunday night.

Sunday night came with disaster. My grandfather was suddenly in pain and couldn’t speak. He couldn’t remember how to sit down or stand up by himself. So I comforted my grandmother, called an ambulance and then called my husband to cancel our date. His first question was how I was getting to the hospital.

Me: Driving behind the ambulance I guess.
My husband: No, you can’t do this on you own. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.

He was an hour away technically. But 20 minutes later, breaking all speed laws, he was there.
I had no family to help, no parents to rely on. I had friends, but this man who met me 3 days before swooped in. Took me to the hospital, helped me with the doctors (his dad was a physician in Ireland and he knew his way around.) He stayed with me there, drove me home, tucked me into bed and slept on the couch. The next morning he made breakfast, went to the store to stock up and basically stepped in to look after my grandmother and I. I was a very independent, strong willed girl who was used to caring for others. I had just ended a serious relationship (caught my older handsome man cheating. *coughFrankcough*). I was not looking to be serious with anyone and absolutely not prepared for a gallant young man to jump in to protect and care for me.
I was immediately amazed. But not willing to call it a relationship. My grandfather came home for hospice and my husband practically moved onto the couch to look after me. Eventually my grandfather passed away and some of the extended family showed to help with the funeral.

A few weeks later my husband had to go back to Ireland. I was sad but not willing to admit how much I cared. He promised to come back. And after a few weeks returned. I had never felt anything so powerful in my life.

But decisions needed to be made. Would we try long distance and hope it worked out? He couldn’t legally live in the US. He had work and family in Ireland.

So after a couple of months I decided it was worth risking everything. I made sure my grandmother was alright, I quit my job, withdrew from college and bought a one way ticket to Ireland.

I won’t lie, it was not a simple happy ever after. Adapting to a completely different culture, being an outsider, having to rely on my husband when I was used to being very independent, was tough. But I renrolled in school, got a job and we eventually moved to our own place. There were fights, and home sickness. It was cold and I was not always welcome (there was more than one argument with his sister in gaelic where I was intentionally excluded from the conversation) but it was true love.

We’ve been married for 10 years now, together for 14, and live in the US.

It was a miracle that the day my grandfather started to leave my life, my husband was entering it. It was a miracle that in just a few months I found complete soul deep love. And a miracle that I was crazy enough to choose it, even with the terrifying choices that came with it.

So that’s the story of us. Nowhere near as amazing as the fictional world of Outlander. But I was blown away when I read the books and very greatful to see someone else share even small moments that I could relate to.

True love does exist. It can last for years and across continents. The passion can grow with age and the fire burn brighter with maturity. Knights in shinning armor do exist (and they are as stubborn and exhausting and wonderful as you think.)


(Sorry for typoes but I knew if I thought about it too long I would chicken out. So here it is, mess and all.)

Favorite part

Originally posted by professorlupins

✖ Characters/relationships: Original!Percival Graves x Reader

✖ Genres: Power play, smut

✖ Summary: Reader is a new Auror at MACUSA but she doesn’t slip past an experienced eye of Percival Graves. @Anonymous

✖ Disclaimer: All characters are at least 21 y/o unless stated otherwise.

✖ Word count: 5940

Keep reading

You loved me once

Pairing: demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Oral sex (female e male receiving), unprotected sex

Word Count: 2604

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just ask me!
Feedback is always appreciated.


“Hi Dean.”
The hunter looked up, and seeing Y/n in front of him, he rolled his eyes. He had been quite clear: he didn’t want her or Sam to follow him. The old Dean was gone. Now he was a Knight of Hell, a demon, strong, and without emotions, and concern for others.
“Y/n.” Dean said as he stood up from his chair; He had been in that bar already too long, and the presence of the girl, it was a great excuse to leave. He and Y/n.. had a long history behind it: the girl had begun to hunt with Dean during the Sam’s ‘period of college’, and they were never away from each other. What the hunter felt when she was at his side.. it was love. Dean hadn’t understood from the beginning, he was a man of a thousand women, and a single night. But the more he saw Y/n grow before his eyes, as he noticed her beauty, and her strong character.
And then he had the courage to approach her, and kiss her; and Y/n doesn’t reject him. From that day everything changed: the two were more gregarious than ever, even when Sam went back to hunt with them. They were unbeatable.
But everything could hear Dean at that time, was.. nothing. He just wanted to be alone, away from his brother and that girl. They would surely have tried to bring him back, the “Dean of the first”, which he wasn’t interested at all.
Dean left the bar, hoping Y/n doesn’t follow him, but he knew she would. He felt the presence of the girl behind him, who followed constantly, to the motel. Dean, arrived at his room, tried to leave out Y/n, but the girl put a foot in front of the door, and she managed to enter. Dean began to feel anger invade his body. And something else, an emotion that he couldn’t explain. Y/n entered with arrogance in the room, and closed the door behind her.
“Let me guess: you’re here to take me back.”
The Y/n’s gaze fixed on him, made feel Dean.. weird. A shiver ran through the spine of his back. Meanwhile Y/n wandered into the room, went back and forth, until she decided to sit on the bed.
“To be honest, no.”
The Y/n’s answer surprises the hunter; he was convinced that the only goal of the girl was to bring him back, to return to being a person.. good. He didn’t expect Y/n wanted him to stay a demon.
“And why are you here then?”
Y/n smiled, and with a quick rush, she rose from the bed, touching Dean’s body with her.
She licked her lips, her hands on his chest, her eyes met those of Dean. The hunter tried to remain impassive to those small gestures, even though it was not easy. Although he wasn’t interested emotionally Y/n (was it really so?), Dean couldn’t pretend to be indifferent to the girl’s body; to her small fingers that touched him, to her full lips, her hips trying to struggle with his. Dean closed his eyes and sighed; Y/n lured him to her flirting, but the hunter wasn’t stupid. Although the sexual tension was at its peak, Dean wouldn’t yield.
Y/n hadn’t answered the question of Dean, and so the boy took a step back, the girl moving away from him.
“Why don’t you take me back?”
The Y/n’s gaze still caught more attention to Dean; although she tried in every way to provoke the boy, however, she had red eyes.
She will certainly have cried, thought Dean, you don’t fool me, sweetheart.
“There will not be need.” said Y/n, still approaching once Dean. Her hands wrapped around the neck of the hunter, and he did nothing but stare.
“Because you will yourself back to me.”
Dean laughed; he thought it was the biggest crap he had ever heard. Because he wanted to go back to being a mere human?
Be a Knight of Hell was extraordinary: he could do whatever he wanted, he could have everything he had always wanted. He had the strength, he had the power.
“I don’t never coming back, sweetheart. I will not go back to being that simple, weak, and stupid human, that I was. I will never go back to Sam, and you. I will not return to love you.”
Y/n felt butterflies in the stomach more and more agitated. It was not easy to stay there, impassive, in front of the man you love, in front of the man who was once kind, good, and the best of all. In front of the man who was now a demon. Her hands began to bowl on Dean’s face, her eyes were sailing in the green ones of the boy; the Y/n’s lips brushed those of Dean, but she didn’t kissed him. She knew that if she did, she wouldn’t have left him.
“It doesn’t matter.” she said, while Dean held back the urge to sling on her, on her lips, lay her on the bed and remove her clothes off. Why he felt that emotion so strange for someone like him? What was it really? Desire? Passion? ..Love?
No, impossible; a demon doesn’t feel love. He doesn’t feel love, no longer now.
“You loved me once. You can love me again.”
The Y/n’s words left Dean breathless; she really thought he would have loved her again.
Deluded, thought Dean instinctively.
Y/n walked away from the hunter, and she passed him, going to the door. Before going out, the girl spoke once more to the boy.
“I’m going to the bar. When you want, I’ll wait there.”
That said, Y/n left the room, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.


It had been a couple of hours, when Dean finally decided to come out of his room, and go to the bar; he wanted to drink, but in the end he knew he wanted to go there to see if Y/n was waiting for him.
And if Y/n was right? If he still had feelings for her? If he is not able to eliminate those emotions inside him?
Dean entered the bar not far from his motel, and the first thing he did was look around; when he finally saw Y/n, he skipped a beating heart. He wanted to go to her, he felt the need to have her by his side, hold her to him. It could feel something like that, a demon?
Dean, however, saw that the girl was not alone; there was a man at her side, next to the pool table. She laughed with him, and in turn made their moves. Dean felt a pang in the stomach, but he tried to shake off that feeling. He went over to the counter, and began to drink. A sip, another, and another; he couldn’t take his eyes off Y/n. He watched her carefully, while with the pool cue, she fell on the pool table; her shirt pulled up, leaving the girl’s stomach in full view. The jeans perfectly clutching the hips, and on the ass..
Dean looked away, feeling a tingle there on the crotch; even though he was a demon, he still felt something, but he couldn’t figure out what. At that moment he wanted only to drag Y/n away from that place, and take her in his room.
“Now I have to go.”
Dean turned back to watch Y/n, as she walked away from the pool table, and the man, or at least she tried. The man positioned himself in front of the girl, tried to make her stay a little longer with him. Y/n said once again that she had to go away, but the man didn’t listen; he squeezed her arm and pulled her toward him. The girl began to squirm, and tried to get away from the man, in vain. Dean felt a sudden anger invade his body, and within seconds was alongside Y/n; he pushed the man away from her, and hit him stronger to face.
Y/n gasped when she found Dean at her side; she was so focused on the game of billiards and the man, who hadn’t noticed his entry in the bar. Dean turned to her, and their eyes met; the hunter squeezed her wrist, and pulled her out of the bar.
Neither of them spoke, while Dean was heading to the motel, taking the girl nearest to him. When finally they arrived, Dean opened the door, and brought in Y/n with him. The boy slammed the door quickly, and pushed Y/n against it; the girl didn’t have time to say anything, that Dean’s lips were on hers. In that kiss there was desire, passion, desire to one another, feelings that Dean didn’t think to prove again. The hunter traveled with lips on the girl’s face, to the hollow of the neck; he kissed her, licked her, bit her. He continued down until to get to the button of her jeans; furiously, he unbuttoned the Y/n’s pants, and pushed them away, along with the panties. He left kisses and bites on both legs, marking what was his.
A sharp cry came from the Y/n’s lips, when Dean laid the tongue on her pussy; he began to torture the clit, making her moan more.
“Yes!”
Dean slid a finger inside her pussy, continuing to suck her clit; he slipped another finger, and Y/n arched her back, feeling the orgasm approaching. She was screaming with pleasure, as Dean licked satisfied the taste of her.
Y/n was out of breath, but Dean stood up and flung himself again on her lips; he turned away from her and looked into her eyes.
“On the bed.”
The order of Dean excited Y/n more, and without taking her eyes from Dean, she walked toward the bed, and lay down. The hunter leaned against the door, and he looked at the beauty of Y/n.
“Take off your clothes.” he said, as he watched her carefully. Y/n took off her shirt, and with a slow agony, she also took off her bra, remaining completely naked. Dean slid his hand in his pants, and began to touch his cock, become harder because of her.
“Why don’t you help?” said Y/n suddenly; Dean felt explode. He came up at the foot of the bed, and Y/n, kneeling on the bed, attracted the Dean’s lips to her; she bit his bottom lip, making moan the boy between her lips. With her hands on the crotch, Y/n unbuttoned the hunter’s jeans, pulling them along with boxer.
She lowered herself onto the hunter’s cock, and licked its length; she squeezed her hand on Dean’s cock, and she began to suck; Dean felt in paradise; in recent weeks he had been sleeping with other women, but Y/n.. she was different. In her gestures, she made him feel.. loved.
“Yes, Y/n.. do it like this..”
Dean wished her lips on his cock even more, and squeezing a hand through her hair, he pulled her towards him.
“I’m.. Y/n, I’m coming.”
Dean closed his eyes, and he enjoyed that perfect moment, as he came between the girl’s lips. He tried to calm his breath as Y/n stood up and sat again on her knees on the bed.
She licked her lips, and this aroused Dean even more.
The hunter quickly took off the rest of the clothes, and lay down on the bed, Y/n beneath him. Their lips collided, the tongues that were fighting each other, the nails of her pressed into the boy’s back. Dean kissed her collarbone, while Y/n continued to moan.
“Fuck me.” said Y/n, approaching Dean closer to her. She didn’t care if the man she loved was a demon, because she knew he would come back to her.
“Fuck you?”
Dean smiled; having Y/n under his control, make her moan because of him.. made him mad.
“Please.. please?”
“Say again.. again..”
Dean loved to hear her beg him, he felt even more the need to make her his.
“Please, Dean. Fuck me!”
Dean didn’t need to repeat again; slowly he brought his cock at the entrance of the Y/n’s pussy, and in an instant, he slipped inside her. Y/n felt full after so long; she loved him so much, that everything else didn’t matter to her.
Deep groans came from both guys, while Dean was moving fast into her.
Dean began to realize that for him it wasn’t just sex; maybe she was right. Maybe he was a different demon from the other, he could feel emotions, to feel love. For Y/n.
“God, Y/n. You’re tight.”
“..yes Dean, right there.”
Dean pushed even more his cock in her pussy, and, with one hand he was torturing her clit.
The hunter looked at the Y/n’s face, that biting her lips, she was going crazy with pleasure. Dean watched her: he had never seen her more beautiful and sexy as now.
“Dean.. I can’t.. I’m.. aah!”
The girl arched her back, her hips colliding with those of Dean; she came, a tear rolled on her face. The guy still gave some push inside her, and then he came, whispering her name into her ear.
They were both motionless, Dean still on her body; the breath was short, and their minds were exhausted. After a while, Dean moved from Y/n and sat by her side.
And now? What would have happened? He was still a demon, and she still loved him.
Both things could not change; or maybe yes?
“I thought you didn’t care about me.”
Dean turned to the girl, who had his eyes closed. Dean licked his lips: despite Y/n was tired and sweaty because of sex, the hunter didn’t think of anything but what she was beautiful, how her hair stuck to her skin, to her chest rose and fell rapidly, did she look like sensual.
“In fact it’s so.” Dean said unconvinced. A demon can have feelings, Crowley himself, the king of hell, was.. good. When he wanted to. So why Dean couldn’t accept the fact that he could love, despite his new nature?
“To me it didn’t seem so.”
Finally Y/n opened her eyes, which immediately met those of Dean. At that moment the hunter thought about everything he had done and said with Y/n; as much as he had loved her, and how he would protect her at all costs. He hadn’t also done before? He had ‘saved’ her from the man in the bar?
Dean got out of bed, took his clothes off the floor, and began to wear them; Also Y/n stood up, but instead of dressing up, walked over to Dean, and resting the body to his back, hugged him. The hunter shivered; This was then that he felt? It was this love? How could he not remember? It was only a few weeks he had become a demon, and yet he had forgotten what it meant to feel something profound for one person.
“Is’t okay. There’s no hurry. You will heal.”
Dean turned around; notwithstanding any man, seeing a naked woman in front of him, would have jumped on top of her, the hunter didn’t it. Instead, he simply approached his lips to those of the girl, and he kissed her. They were soft, and sweet, and they had the taste of him.
Just then Dean realized that he was a demon, but he could also feel love for the girl he loved, for Y/n. And maybe one day, he would understand that he could even return to being a human. After all, it wasn’t that bad.


Forever Tag:
@hotwinchester
@deadinside-muser
@iamthenewthor
@doro7winchester
@frickin-bats
@mogaruke

Supernatural Tag:
@27bmm
@jensen-jarpad

Dean’s Girl Tag:
@love-charmer-sketch

“First Times” Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 2,261

Castiel x Reader, Dean x Reader (platonic)

Request: I was wondering if you could write a Castiel x reader smut where y/n and Dean smoke weed together and are having a great time and Castiel, y/n’s boyfriend, comes in and asks why she’s acting so strange and tells him she smoked weed and explains his father grew it. Castiel gets curious and asks to try some, and after a little while, it begins to make him horny, and smut ensues from there.

Warnings: Language, marijuana use, bad attempts at mild humor (lol), smut, unprotected sex

a/n: laughing because I’m writing this and I’ve literally never smoked weed once in my life


“Oh, it is good to be home.” You groan out, putting your purse by the front door as you enter the bunker.

“Talk about it.” Dean agreed. “We haven’t had a hunt run that long in years.”

You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were all hunting a werewolf in New York. Cas was new to being a hunter, so you guys decided to let him get the werewolf.

“It’ll do him good.” Dean had said in New York. He was wrong, since Cas was knocked out cold and the werewolf got free. You love Cas, he’s your boyfriend and he’s amazing and you were worried about him, but that really just annoyed you. Not because he messed up. But because that meant you had to stay even longer, trying to track the werewolf down again, before Sam finally killed it. You hadn’t been at the bunker in almost a month, and you’re ready to sleep in your own bed again.

“I’m going to sleep, I’m exhausted.” Sam yawned, and retreated to him room.

“Hey, Y/N, you wanna-“ Dean started, but the look you gave him made him not finish his sentence. Cas was still in the room with you guys, and he didn’t know about your little “secret”.

Ever since you and Dean had found that bag of weed last year on a hunt, you two had been smoking together. At first, it was merely just a one-time thing. You two had found the bag, and figured “why not?” Neither of you had smoked it since you were teenagers. But once you two realized that, hey, it’s actually pretty great, you’d been smoking it more often together. It was yours and Dean’s secret. No one knew about it, not even Sam, because of course Sam would disapprove. But it was the only thing that actually made you and Dean relax, which god knows you need relaxation in your life. Being a hunter is the most stressful job in the world.

“Yeah.” You say quickly, glancing over to Cas, who seemingly wasn’t even paying attention. He was looking at his phone oddly, probably trying to figure out how to use it. He’s very new to all these human things, and if you’re truthful, it’s pretty adorable.

“Hey, Cas, we’re going to bed. We… have things to take care of. You good to stay out here? Or just go ahead and go to Y/N’s room if you’re tired.” Dean asked Cas, raising his eyebrows.

“You two are going to bed together?” Cas asked, hurt seeping in his facial expressions.

“Not like that, God no.” You rushed out. “You know I love you. Only you. Not Dean.” You walked over to Cas, pressing your lips up against his. He immediately relaxes, his body no longer tense. You pull away after a moment, hoping that settles his worries.

“Damn, Y/N, I’m not that repulsive.” Dean dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “What I meant to say is that we have some stuff to take care of. Nothing serious. Don’t worry, Cas, she loves you and I can promise she aint cheating on you.”

“Well, okay. I trust you two.” Cas says, and then walks down the hallway, disappearing into your room.

“Really, Dean? ‘We’re going to bed?’” You give Dean a glare once you see Cas shut the door, unamused. “You couldn’t have worded that any better?”

“If you just told him, we wouldn’t have to be so secretive about this whole thing, it’s not my fault!” Dean whisper-yelled. “Okay, okay, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I know.” You rolled your eyes. You follow Dean to his room, shutting the door behind you. Dean pulls out the bag from underneath his bed. Joints were already rolled up, thankfully, because you aren’t that great at rolling it yourself. Dean, though, had skills like none other.

“You got a lighter?” You ask.

“Do I have a lighter,” Dean scoffed sarcastically, pulling a lighter out of his top dresser drawer. He hands it to you, and you light the joint up in your mouth, inhaling.

“Fuuuuck, I needed this.” You exhale, the smoke exiting your mouth. You instantly feel better, your insides lighter and you just feel happy.

You and Dean just sit there in his room for a while, laughing at the dumbest of things, just in general having fun. You’d try and tell him a story, losing your train of thought about half way through, making both of you crack up.

“We need some food.” Dean says after a while.

“Yes, oh god, do you have any cookies?” Your eyes widen, the thought of cookies making your mouth water.

“Oreos, baby.” Dean smiles. You grab on to his arm, walking out of the room. It’s been a few hours since you gone to his room in the first place, and you two figured that everyone would be asleep by now. It was clear to leave the room.

You’re standing in the middle of the kitchen while Dean was in the pantry getting the Oreos. You were starting to feel your high slightly wearing off (although still prominent) when you saw a familiar man in a trench coat walk down the hallway.

“Hey, baby!” You yell out, holding your arms open for him to hug you. “Come here!”

“Y/N?” Cas cocked his head to the side, an odd expression on his face. “Why are you acting like that?”

“I just want to love on my boyfriend, is that too much to ask?” You frown. He walks up to you, holding your face with his hand.

“Why are your eyes red? Why do you smell like that?” Cas was becoming worried, you could tell.

“Oh, relax old man. I was just having some fun, smoking some weed.” You didn’t even care that he knew. If you’re honest, he probably didn’t even know what weed was.

“What is weed?” Cas asked. “Is that what is making you act so, what’s the word you humans use… Giddy?”

“Weed is… Well it’s a plant you smoke.” You frown, unable to think of a better way to explain it. “Umm… I guess your dad made it? It makes you happy, and relaxed. And hungry.”

“I think I might like this ‘weed’ you are talking about.” Cas says. “Is that what you and Dean were doing?”

“Yeah. ‘M sorry I kept it from you. Didn’t know how you’d react.”

“You do not need to keep anything from me. I don’t care what plants you smoke.” Cas kissed your forehead.

“Do you want to try it?” You raise your eyebrows. “Smoking weed? We still have some.”

“I would like to try it, yes.” Cas responds. You walk over to the pantry, and see Dean peacefully asleep on the floor, a package of Oreos in his hand. You giggle, and walk back over to Cas.

“Come on.” You grab his hand, leading him to Dean’s room. You grab the bag and take out a joint, handing it to him. “We can do this in our room.”

You take him to your shared room, and sit down on the bed with him. You instruct him to put it in his mouth, you light it up for him.

“All you gotta do is inhale. Just don’t try and keep it in there for too long, you’re new to this so you’ll probably cough a lot.” You tell him.

“Do I smoke the whole thing?”

“No, we’ll share.” You smile, and he takes his first hit. As expected, he starts coughing, but he goes in for another one almost immediately.

“Slow down there, tiger.” You laugh.

“I don’t feel any different.” Cas frowns. “That was underwhelming.”

“Give it time.” You laugh, patting him on the back. After a few minutes, you can tell its hit him.

“This is fun. I like this.” Cas says after a while. “My father knew what he was doing when he created this. I am starting to enjoy the human life.”

“Be sure to thank him for me if you guys ever actually meet.” You take the joint from his fingers, taking your own hit now.

“Y/N?” Cas says with a questioning tone.

“Yes, Castiel?”

“I seem to have an erection.”

You almost choke on the air you’re breathing when you hear that. You love Cas to death, but goddamn is he so blunt about everything. You glance over to his lap, and sure enough, he has a hard on.

“Well, I mean, that can happen. Some people get horny when they smoke. It’s no big deal.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Should I watch porn?”

“Oh my god, Cas.” You laugh. While you and Cas have been dating for quite some time, you’ve never actually done it. You’ve had some make out sessions, sure. But every time you would go to have sex, someone would either walk in, or Cas would start being all nervous (he knew absolutely nothing about sex) and nothing ever came out of it.

For example, the first time you tried to initiate more than kissing, you had crawled onto his lap and started to grind onto him. Cas was extremely confused and was asking why you were “rubbing your clitoris onto his jeans.” …Dean and him had a long talk after that.

“Dean said that if I get an erection I should watch porn.” Cas frowned.

“You could. Or, you know, you have a very sexy girlfriend right next to you that can help you out.” You whispered into his ear. You could see him gulp, and the tent in his pants get bigger.

“I- I want to, but I just don’t… I only know what I’ve seen from porn.” Castiel admits. “There is many kinds of sex.”

“Yes, there is. You’re right. What do you want?” You position yourself so you’re sitting on his lap, his hardness pressing into your pants.

“I want you to ride me.”

You were slightly shocked by how he just openly stated what he wanted. He’s always been so shy about the topic of sex, always nervous if we even just get to second base.

Cas grabs your cheeks, pressing his lips into yours. He kisses you hungrily, all tongue and teeth, as you begin to unzip his pants. He lifts up his hips and you break the kiss so you can pull his jeans down, leaving him only in his boxers. You take off your own clothes, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuck,” Cas hisses, and puts his hands on your waist to pull you closer to him. You grind your bare clit over his hard cock in his boxers, the mixture of your wetness and his pre cum surely ruining his boxers.

You reach your hand into his underwear, pulling out his length. You start to pump slowly, earning a low moan from Cas.

“This feels better than I ever imagined.” Cas moans, his head thrown back in pleasure. You giggle quietly, and bring your head down to him, swirling your tongue around the tip. You play with the tip for a few seconds before taking him all the way into your mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Cas grabs your hair as you work on him. You’ve never heard him cuss like this before, only works like “ass” or “damn”, so you know you’re doing a good job.

He pulls your mouth off of him suddenly, and lust is filled in his eyes.

“I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” Cas explains, and he brings you on top of him.

“Are you ready?” You ask him before lining up your entrance with his cock. He nods, and you lower yourself down slowly.

“OH,” you moan out as he fills you up, hitting you deeper than you ever thought imaginable. You place your hands on the bed beside you and move your body up and down on Cas, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Cas grabs your hips and helps you bounce up and down on him, only making the pleasure higher.

“Cas, oh my god, yes,” You basically yell, not even caring that you two weren’t the only ones in the bunker. They’re probably asleep anyways.

“Y/N,” He moans, bucking his hips upwards onto you. He flips you over to where he is on top now, and pounds into you at a fast pace. The both of you are close, you can feel it.

“Oh I’m going to cum.” You breathe out, your nails digging into Cas’ back. Just as you finish saying that, the familiar feeling of your orgasm hits, and you scream out in pleasure, yelling Castiel’s name. This brings Cas to his own orgasm, and you can feel the warm spurts of cum filling you up inside.

“Oh my god, that was.. That was indescribable.” You breathe out, Cas rolling off of you and lying to your side. He wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a sweet kiss.

“That was much better than porn.”

A little sentence goes a long way

A/N: I’m sorry if you guys don’t like what’s behind this but I just thought of something and I hope you guys don’t mind
~> Everyone makes fics of Anxiety being transgender and that’s why there’s no name
~> honestly though, I love the idea I had of Prince being the transgender one.
@the-prince-and-the-emo @analogically-prinxiety @princeyandanxiety @softlogic ________

Princess Allouette was the most gorgeous princess in all the land… or at least that’s what legend told. Then why did she suddenly go missing, her dresses crown and all left behind. No sign of struggle, so why was she gone? Why was Allouette gone leaving her father in true despair and her mother in a knowing suffer.

It was simple really, Princess wasn’t the right title for Allouette. So after a fight with her mother about not being a princess, Allouette saddled up her noble, cream coloured, stead and rode off in the night never to return to the Kingdom of Far away.

It wasn’t long before the Princess came to a stop, a fassionary in the kingdom of Way Far away. Having a peasant purchase her a princely outfit with money she handed him, she was satisfied with the purchase and gave the peasant boy enough money to feed him and his family for years to come.

Allouette changed into the outfit behind a barn, admiring the beauty of the outfit and how the jacket covered the feminine parts. Prince Roman was the title that had been decided upon for 10 years since a 6 year old realized they weren’t who people said they were.

Roman smiled at himself and got back on his horse before riding quickly, the dress in a bag to he burned at tonight’s fire. The fire never came though, Roman had found a door in the middle of a field that stop on its own. The world continues all around it. More field behind it and more field to the sides. It was a peculiar thing. A shaky hand touched the door knob and then opened the door, a room formed before his eyes. Allowing the Steed to do as it may, he entered the room and looked around. The room was how he had imagined his royal room would look had he been born a boy.

“Oh hi kiddo” A man was at the door on the other side of the room now, Roman froze next to the red bed with gold painted frame.

“Oh, my apologies, am I trespassing? It’s just the door..” Roman spoke urgently, not wanting to be beheaded just as he became who he wanted to be.

“No don’t worry kiddo, this door just showed up for us as well, it was a blank wall and then a door formed. I believe this room was waiting for you…” The man trailed off. They spoke for a few minutes, Roman mentioned nothing of his previous life.

“You said others…” Roman finally spoke up and the introduced Morality smiled.

“Yes others! Come with me” He takes Roman’s hand commenting on his it’s very soft and then dragging him to meet logan and Anxiety. After introducing the pair Roman waved hello.

“Patton? Who is this?"Logan questioned and nodded heating that Roman was the new rooms occupant. He wasn’t so confused now.

"He looks like a more stuck up Princess Allouette… but.. a dude.” Anxiety observes aloud. Roman blushed, already hating his old identity. The topic of The Disappearance of Princess Allouette spread like wildfire everywhere.

13 years later Roman had successfully hidden his past all these years, he owned many royal outfits, a few crowns, the room changed as he grew up and he gained quite the connection with Patton, though it was quiet right now. Nobody was awake,these times were when Roman judged his body in the mirror, how feminine it was and how much he hated it. He had found a binder and it worked wonders for his self esteem but when it was off, that’s when the dysphoria kicked in.

that’s when Roman started to feel like he’d never truly be a boy, never truly pass, no one ever would view him as a him, his body suck,  his face sucked,  he sucked. Roman’s mind would race with self depreciating remarks and comments. His mind would go like this until he fell asleep and then continued in small bits for the whole next day. Though one sentence always made him feel better.

They rarely ever said it, but there was those moments when he’d receive the simple phrase, no matter it’s form, of “You look handsome” it always brought him confidence.

Roman looked away from the mirror at last when when there was a knock on the door and Roman instantly wrapped a towel around his body, he was always used to know one being up he didn’t realize that his youngest brother was still awake

“Hey” Anxiety spoke as he opened the door and slipped in, noticing Prince’s demeanor instantly, the towel position next, and then the high bumps afterwards. “Uh, should I slip out while you uh” He clears his throat awkwardly. Roman sighed, he couldn’t keep his body hidden forever, his past hidden forever.

Roman shook his head but kept the towel on, Anxiety covered his eyes while Roman dressed. “Sorry for intruding,  I uh, just had a nightmare” Anxiety spoke and Roman smiled gently pulling Anxiety on to his bed.

“would hearing a story help?” Roman received a nod “once upon a time, in the land of Far Away. There lived a princess and her parents. Ever since the Princess was very young she never loved being called a Princess. The Princess known as Allouette despised her title, name, and who she was. When Allouette was 15 she took her horse in the middle of the night and ran away, leaving everything but some money behind. When she reached the kingdom of Way Far Away she gave a little peasant boy enough money to purchase her a prince outfit, when he returned with the outfit she gave him the rest of the money she owned and rode off once more. Allouette changed out of her dress and into the suit, before taking a chard of glass and chopping off her hair-”

“Like Flynn does to Rapunzel in tangled?” Anxiety interrupts and Roman nods smiling.

“-they chopped it shorter and shorter until they thought it looked proper like a prince and continued on their way. One day the new prince came across a field, the field was long and wide but right in the middle was a wooden door that you could walk all around but seemed to lead to no where at all until opened. The door lead to a room which lead to a house owned by the parts of a human. The prince soon took the name as Prince Roman Sanders, and he had three amazing brothers.  Patton, Logan, and his favourite was the youngest, Anxiety” Roman finished the story and Anxiety was smiling widely, the first time in a while.

Anxiety was the first to know and the only to know of Roman’s past. Everyday since then Anxiety would find a way to help Roman’s self esteem quietly. Calling him handsome, or telling him on their lonesome that Prince was really passing that day.

The moral of the story is: Tell a transboy he’s Handsome or how much he’s passing, it really help with their self esteem.

Dinner Party {Reader Insert}

Imagine: What happens when three vampires and a hybrid take a liking to the new kid in town?

Summary: Two pairs of brothers host a dinner party to celebrate the arrival of Mystic Falls’ new resident. Little do they know, the new girl isn’t all that she seems.

Request?: No, just a random thought that was inspired by this scene. Bit of a ramble if I’m honest.

Word Count: 2932.

Taglist: Do let me know if you would like to be tagged in any of my writings.

Disclaimer: The gif used is not mine, credits to the user that made it. I do not own any of the characters written about in this piece, credits to the writers and producers of TVD.

A/N: First piece of writing up! I’m not too sure if I’m all that happy with this. The idea sounded better in my head than it does on paper. But still, enjoy, my little bookworms 🖤

Originally posted by damonandelena

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Classically Romanced

Request:  Preferably meeting in a bookshop and realising we are literally the person of each other’s dreams?  I am kind and passionate about books particularly Shakespeare and other classics.

Summary: Chilling in a bookshop when a rude dude decides to be rude and someone comes to save the day.  A little romance begins to bud.

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 919

A/N:  I am working on the few requests that I have received now that I am out of uni for the summer! This is the first one, and I hope you enjoy!


              Flipping through the pages of Shakespeare’s Coriolanus, you reread this controversial classic. Although some believe that Shakespeare was not the original author of the play, you still thoroughly enjoyed its story.  The gentle music playing through your earphones aided in establishing a lovely bookstore ambience.  Through using your earphones and being clearly engrossed in your reading, you had created a large, metaphorical, neon sign, plastered above your head that stated, “DO NOT DISTURB.”  While this “sign” would have been evident to any human being with any wit about them, some more oblivious characters were blind to social etiquette.  As the chair across from you scooted out from the table, you attempted to pay no heed to the person now sitting at your table.  Faint mumbles drifted through the air and landed upon your preoccupied ears.  With undeniable annoyance written on your features, you shifted your focused gaze off of your book and onto your offender.

              “What do you want, Anthony?” You made no effort to conceal the disinterest that heavily coated your tone as you removed one of your earbuds.

              “Oh, you know,” he blathered as his roaming eyes raked your viewable body, “I was just wondering what you were doing later today.”

              “How many times must I repeat myself?” You rhetorically inquired.  “No matter the content of my plans, they will never involve you.”

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Part 1 - Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole

Lately it seems that everything I write ends up never seeing the light of day so I wanted to write something fun, that might actually get read. If you guys like it I’ll continue the story. 

Let me know what you think!


I woke up, eyes bleary, head pounding in a hospital bed I’d never been in, but could have sworn I’d seen before. As I rubbed my eyes, I racked my brain to try and remember how I’d gotten here, but could only come up with fragmented moments on the subway platform. It was a fair assumption to say that I’d passed out. Something like that had happened to me once before, and upon coming to had left me feeling very similar.

“It’s good to see you’re up.”

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Inferno

Genre: demon!au so I guess horror
Word count: 1.3k
Summary:
Waking up in the middle of nowhere with no signs of life turns out to be more than just a delusional dream. Or so you think.

PART I

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

A/N: I have never posted anything openly really, so I hope this isn’t all too bad. I read a good amount of short stories and fics with this theme lately and I wanted to give it a go. Writing isn’t my area of expertise, and english isn’t my first language, so feedback is greatly appreciated and if you know me irl keep scrolling pls ok bye.

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