Dean Winchester came back just when you thought you had let him go for good. He left over a year ago, telling you he had family business to take care of. You knew what Dean’s family business was like. It meant that he might never make it back to you. What Dean did for a living wasn’t normal and definitely wasn’t safe.
Saving People. Hunting Things. The Family Fucking Business.
Now, here he was a little over a year later, begging you to come with him.
“Y/N, I need you. You can’t go,” Dean swallowed, staring you down. “Not now.”
You stared back at him, running your hand over your face in frustration. You couldn’t believe after everything that you were even letting him talk to you. He had no right to ask you to stay.
But here you were, listening, because you loved the damn son of a bitch and that would never change, and you fucking knew it.
“Please?” he begged as he took a tentative step toward you his hand reaching out for yours.
You stepped away out of reach.
“I’’ll do anything, sweetheart,” he continued, his eyes full of sorrow and regret.
You swallowed the knot of emotion that was building in your throat. You wanted to believe him. Your bones ached with need wanting to accept the words that were coming from his mouth, but his actions had spoke volumes.
“You left,” you managed, blinking slowly, meeting his gaze. “You left. I begged you to let me come with you. I begged you to let me help find your dad, and you walked away.”
Dean pursed his lips as he furrowed his brow. “ I didn’t think…”
“Damn right you didn’t think, Winchester,” you half yelled, shoving him in the chest with conviction. “I’d do anything for you. I’d goanywhere with you. I’d give my damn life for you, you idiot. I love you, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes widened with hope at your words.
“You love me?” Dean asked, his voice full of hope.
“And you sure as hell don’t deserve it after telling me that you couldn’t take me with you,” you added, closing the gap between you and grabbing his shirt. “Dean I knew everything. I could have helped,” you choked, your fist clenching his shirt tightly. “I hunted with you and your dad. I could have helped.” Your voice was cut off by the emotion that had been building deep in your chest, pressing in on you, suffocating you.
“I know,” he whispered, his hand reaching up to caress your face hesitantly. “I know that now,” he said, looking away from you as he tried to blink away the tears that were building in his eyes. “I should have known it then. I’m so sorry.”
His face was inching towards you. Everything inside you was screaming for you to walk away. To run as fast you could in the other fucking direction. Do to him what he did to you, but your body had other plans.
You met his lips half way, all the emotion of the last year and half bursting out of you in a single kiss. You wrapped your arms around Dean’s shoulder and held him desperately to you, shaking uncontrollably with all of the feelings and emotions you had been so afraid to feel and express.
“I’m sorry,” Dean pulled away and breathed before kissing you again. “I need you,” he managed between breaths, his lips capturing yours again hungrily once he had uttered the words. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips.
Your eyes flew to his.
“Take me with you.”
It wasn’t a question, and this time Dean didn’t hesitate.
“To the ends of the earth, Y/N. I’ll always protect you. I’m never letting you go again,” he murmured before his lips attached desperately to yours once more.
“You’re gonna have to prove it, Winchester,” you managed, your voice thick with emotion.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life doing just that, princess,” he whispered, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple tenderly.
This time you were going with Dean Winchester. His baby brother needed saving, and you were going to be there every step of the way, like you had so wanted to be there when John disappeared. You would prove to Dean that he never should have left you in the first place.
Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity. The former fresh is from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god. And the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them.
You couldn’t help but moan a little at the sensation. Steve’s hands were like magic.
“You’re really tense in your shoulders.” He said as he continued giving you a massage.
“That’s what having three kids does to you.” You joked.
The relationship that you had with Steve was a good one. It all started when you met him for coffee that Monday four months ago. He had been sweet and humorous the entire time. Sparks flew and now you found yourself with him romantically.
It’s been a while! I’m so sorry that I’ve been gone for so long - I know that there are plenty of peoples waiting for requests. Unfortunately, I’ve been totally stressed out with university work at the moment. I can’t guarantee that this is me coming back for good but I did want to upload something. Thank you to those of you who have stuck around despite the hiatus. This fic is absolutely my worst work. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything that the quality has just deteriorated. Plus, this was whipped up in about an hour. Too quick. Nonetheless, it’s something to read between revision for those of you who have deadlines rn. Thanks to @mel-in-my-head for the request, I’m sorry it deviated. Enjoy, my darlings!
Prompt[s]: can you do one where Peter Parker (CW) (if you don’t peter parker that is, if not Thor is fine) is really over protective of the reader like all the time, but the reader is 100% oblivious and one night the reader and him can’t sleep, so they go all movie marathon and they wake up to the avengers (and if you are doing peter,) aunt may finds them all cuddled up on the couch in the main room taking pics, and awing. sorry for this being long it’s my first request, I think, so yeah, thanks
“Is that…” You asked, holding up a hand. Peter looked up and
“Oh god, it is.”
You stared at him pointedly. “Run.”
Despite the hastiness with which you took off, you were
still sopping wet by the time you reached the apartment building. Peter slammed
the door shut behind you, panting. You doubled over breathlessly and laughed
giddily. When you stood up straight again, you ran a hand through your hair and
felt it completely drenched.
“Want to borrow a towel?” Peter laughed, holding out a hand in the direction of
“Before I tell you anything else, I need you to know that I’m okay,” you said quickly when dean answered the phone.
“Y/N what’s going on?” Dean asked gruffly. You could easily picture the scowl, the clench of his jaw, that worried look on his face. And it was only going to get worse.
“I’m in the hospital,” you said, wincing.
“What?!” Dean exclaimed angrily, making you drop your face into your hands. Oh, this was going to be so very terrible… “What happened?” he growled, but before you could even open your mouth to respond, he changed his mind. “Never mind. Just tell me where you are, I’ll be right there.”
You heard him long before you saw him. He was practically shouting down the hall looking for you, stomping along in those heavy boots of his. Finally someone must have told him where you were, because then the door was slamming open, and a whole lot of panicked Dean came barreling through.
“Are you okay?” He demanded, grabbing your face in his hands. His eyes were darting around, checking you for injuries. That was when he saw your knee. “What. Happened.”
“I fell Dean. I’m fine.”
“That doesn’t look fine.”
“I sprained it, okay? That’s all,” you reassured him, patting his arm. Thankfully he was interrupted as the doctor came in.
“Mrs. Winchester,” he began, glancing up from your chart, “oh, you must be her husband.” Dean shot you a glance, but he nodded instead of blowing your story. It had been the only way they would let him in to see you. “It looks like a pretty good sprain, but nothing too serious. I’d recommend advil and some ice, but otherwise just rest and try to keep your weight off it for a few days. If you’re not better in a couple weeks, we can explore other options, maybe do an MRI. Other than that, you’re free to leave.” The doctor shook each of your hands, and then he was gone again.
“Stay here and rest, I’ll go get the paperwork squared away,” Dean grumbled, still sounding angry despite the less-than-serious diagnosis.
“Bullshit…” you muttered as he left, reaching over for the crutches leaning against the wall. You hopped off the bed, wincing as your muscles protested the movement. They were sore, but nothing felt too bad, so you snatched up the crutches and limped out into the hall. Dean turned at the sound from where he stood at the nurses’ station and gave you a look so terrible you stopped in your tracks and briefly reconsidered your priorities. But then you clenched your jaw and continued hobbling over to him.
“What are you doing? Go sit down.”
“No. We’re leaving, come on.”
“You’re insane, you know that? You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Screw you,” you retorted angrily, turning to go past him. But Dean reached out and snagged the back of your jacket, holding you in place as he signed the paperwork - with a fake name, so what the hell was the point? - and listened carefully to the nurse’s instructions.
“Hey,” Dean scolded when you tried to rip out of his grip, “seriously, will you calm down for two minutes?”
“I’ve been here for three hours,” you hissed, “I called you for a ride, so get me the hell out of here already!” Dean narrowed his eyes at you, but you just glared right back at him. When a muscle in his jaw twitched, you realized he was really mad. Well, shit.
“Fine. Let’s go,” he said tightly, gesturing for you to lead the way down the hall. It was slow going with the crutches, but soon enough the two of you were out in the parking lot and Dean opened the passenger door of the impala for you.
“I don’t need help,” you snapped when he went to grab your arm and help you into the car. Dean growled something under his breath, crossing his arms and watching you struggle until one of the crutches slipped and you went plummeting towards the ground. Strong arms caught you, and then you were pulled against Dean’s chest in a tight embrace. Before you could say anything, Dean was speaking, his voice right in your ear.
“I know you don’t need help, okay? But you also don’t need to do this by yourself. Let me help, sweetheart.” You pulled back and looked up at him, green eyes sincere, his expression worried. When you finally nodded, Dean cracked a smile and kissed your forehead, helping you into the car.
Harry exhaled deeply in his seat next you, drawing your attention so you could see the soft smile he had to offer as he gently slid his hand under yours, his fingers linking with your shaking ones. “No matter what happens, I love you and I’ll help you through it.”
A frown was on your lips as you held the price tag of the
stroller you were looking at. It had only been a month that you had found out
that you were pregnant and although you had been to a doctor and been reassured
that everything was fine. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea
that you were going to be a mother.
Every day you thought about how this wasn’t something you
wanted yet and every day you felt horrible that you couldn’t be happy about the
life growing inside you. The thing that broke your heart the most was seeing
Harry feel the opposite.
Harry was thrilled that he was going to be a dad and every
chance he got he put a hand over your belly and that was the worst thing of all.
One morning you woke up with his fingers dancing delicately over the small bump
that had just appeared while whispering against your skin that he couldn’t wait
to meet the little girl or boy and you had to fight with every fibre in your
body to not break down crying.
Harry didn’t notice the way you felt but Anne did. She
noticed the look on your face when Harry had told his family that you were
pregnant and later that night when she got you alone you cried into her arms.
Warnings: Language, mentions of domestic violence (on reader)
I adjusted Daniel, making sure he did not fall off my hip as i walked down the streets of my old hometown. Nothing changed since the last time I was here.
I walked towards Polly’s house, trying to keep my head down, in the hopes I could avoid all of the other Shelby’s. When I knocked on the door, I saw the curtains peel back a little, then the door swung open quickly, hitting the wall.
I was pulled into a hug by the woman who I considered a second mother, trying not to flinch when she squeezed me. After a few seconds of silent embracing, she pulled back to look at me. My eyes flew to the ground, not wanting to look into hers as she saw the reason I was here.
“My god…” She whispered, placing her hand on my chin to fully examine my wounds.