you can even see the droplets on his face

anonymous asked:

But imagine best friend Harry and you having nicknames to each other and teasing each other in a friendly way all the time and one day you go for lunch with his friends that already have a baby and he sees his best friend interact with the baby and being very motherly like and it hits him that he might like her more than just friends and maybe he sees a future in there.

He’s sporting heart eyes from across the table - the literal heart-eye emoji - with the biggest grin on his face, in awe and with infatuation rolling his veins, whilst he watches his best friend fawn and coo over the tiny baby girl tucked in Ben’s arm, wide awake and cooing, pursing her tiny pink lips together and blowing gentle raspberries that had her falling deeper in love with the tiny baby. Dragging a curled finger down her cheek as she calls her a “pretty girl” and claims how she looked so beautiful in her cherry-patterned dress; one that Harry had brought her specifically, and gifted to her on the day she was born, because cherries were sweet and his favourite fruit because they reminded him of how he was surrounded by some many sweet people in his life. Meredith, drinking a cup of her own green tea as she settled back against the comfy sofa of the coffee house, has her eyes focused solely on the 23-year old man in front of her as he watches his friends interact, chatting lowly about how it was to be a new parent. 

“You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried, mister,” Meredith smiles, kicking his ankle softly as uncrossed his leg and set his foot on the ground, “why haven’t you tried anything yet? You two are practically boyfriend and girlfriend anyway. You think we haven’t noticed?”

“She’s just my best friend,” he murmurs behind his cup, the steam coming from his coffee clearing his airways, “just my friend.” 

“That is utter nonsense, Harry. You’re both infatuated with one another. I can see it. It’s written all over your face,” she points out, nudging her elbow into his side and jogging his cup, droplets dribbling down from the rim to the base, “you have nicknames for one another. You both live with one another, in each others houses. She wears your clothes. You use her shampoo, by the smell of it. You invite her everywhere and insist she’s your priority for the night, even though friends want to take her off for a bit. You love her. You love having her around. Stop kidding yourself,’ she smiles warmly, “just think about it.” 

And think about it is exactly what he did. 

Whilst making dinner for himself that night, and whilst he was busy stirring the pan of pasta that had caught his eye in the middle of Tesco after he’d dropped her home from the coffee date with Ben and Meredith, his mind drifts to something he hadn’t really paid much mind to; his future and who was in it. Staring at the tiles behind his cooker, wrist falling into a rhythmic motion, he’s off in his own world, picturing kids and a wife that looked so familiar from behind. A face coming into his view, and his heart just pangs when he sees his best friend’s face there, smiling at him with love behind her eyes. A belly homing a baby, with their two children running havoc around the garden. A cat roaming the grass before finding a comfortable warm spot on the patio tiles to have a snooze.

He’s pulled away from daydream when the smoke alarm blares around the house. Green eyes widening before he’s pulling the spoon from the pan and pushing it away from the flames, grabbing the nearest object to waft the smoke out of his back door. The image still fresh on his mind as he looked out towards the end of the greenery his garden had grown, flowers lining the fences and a tree planted right towards the back, growing apples that were a nightmare to pick up after a night of strong winds.

Feeling for his phone, that sat heavy in his shirt pocket, he pulled it from the material and dialled the number he knew off by heart. A number he was calling almost 2 times a day - usually more if they had plans and needed to confirm them or couldn’t find the other in the middle of London town. Muttering about how the tube was a nightmare in the late mornings and that buses would have been just as bad on the way into the centre.

“Hey, uh, I’m not sure why you didn’t answer my call. You’re usually jumping on the horn as soon as I call,” he chuckles, cradling his phone in his hand as his socks slip along the floor with each step he took towards the sink, “m’making pasta and some kind of cheese sauce that Nigella recommended on Instagram. Uh, I have extras so, I was kind of hoping you’d come and eat it. If not, I’ll have to pop next door and give it to my old lady neighbour,” he peeks out the kitchen window and over to the fence that guarded his garden, “gi’me a call back. I’d love your company. Didn’t speak much today, did we? You were too busy with Ruby,” he lets out a breathy laugh, before rubbing his eyes, “gi’me a call to let me know. I’ll keep it in the oven for you. Let it stay warm. Hopefully you can make it. See you soon! Lo-”

And before he lets the words “love you” roll off his tongue, he’s hearing the dial tone of her voicemail coming to an end. A breath of relief flushing from between his parted lips. He couldn’t tell her over the phone, but, he could tell her over a bowl of cheesy pasta. xx

plutoshero  asked:

Oo what about sidon and partner star gazing 😍😍😍😍😍

(More or less a continuation of this one because I felt that such a cute little scene would fit very well with it~ Enjoy!~)

Starry Eyed

Word Count: 1489
Warnings: Little bit of angst




Sidon never knew that Mikau Lake could be so beautiful; though, he figured that was most likely because he had you laying beside him.

After the initial shock of the surprise picnic, you told him how you had set up the entire thing with the approval of his father, confirming his suspicions. The picnic of his favorite foods, this special spot away from the Kingdom where they could be alone, clearing his schedule by making sure all his duties were taken care of for him. Everything for his sake.

Sidon was impressed, to say the least, and he made sure to tell you this and let you know how grateful he was that you would go through all of it for him, though in the back of his heart he could feel a pang of guilt when he reflected on all the work that you had to do just to spend the afternoon with him.

When the two of you had settled down on the picnic blanket, him still wearing the crown of flowers that you had placed upon his head and you absolutely glowing with the bright smile on your face, he felt that itching guilt writhing around inside of him watching as you pointed to the platters excitedly stating what each one was. You were so excited to finally spend time with him, a clear reminder to the Zora just how little time he got to spend with you.

So caught up in maintaining the Kingdom and his reputation as an heir worthy of rising to the throne, that he was too busy to focus on the other important thing in his life: you. He loved you, adored you; the very thought of you always brightened up his day and provided him solace whenever he was feeling overwhelmed by his responsibilities. However, more often than not, the pressure of those responsibilities forced you to the back of Sidon’s head and that thought fueled the guilt until the little flame was raging throughout his entire body making it hard for him to fully enjoy your shared afternoon.

Sidon could only hope that you didn’t notice. You did.

When the sun set and bright orange and ruby hues of the sky were replaced with the cool violet of night, you and Sidon remained planted at Mikau Lake now laying down on the ground with the soft blades of green grass providing partial protection from the hard earth. Sidon had an arm around your smaller frame, holding you close to him as your eyes scanned the darkening sky watching as the stars gradually began to flicker to life.

The Zora let out a soft sigh, content to just lay here in this peaceful silence with his lover resting beside him gazing up at the stars who returned their gaze with brief twinkles of their light. Sidon felt your body shift and he glanced down watching as you sat up so he did the same careful of the precious flower crown as he did so. He figured that you just wanted to get a better look at the stars but the way that your body fidgeted and tensed made the Prince rethink his verdict.

Before he could say anything about your behavior, your body moved and he smiled a little feeling you now leaning against him with your hand slipping between your bodies in search of his. Sidon chuckled fondly and then moved his hand to take hold of yours, smiling as he gave it a small squeeze.

“Sidon,” the sound of your voice almost immediately captures the attention of the Zora and he looks down at you, “Did you not like the surprise?”

“Of course I liked it!” His response is so quick that he notices your body jolt slightly, startled. “My love, what would make you think that I did not like it?”

You fidget again, shrugging your shoulders a little half-heartedly, as you say, “I don’t know, you’ve been kind of distracted this whole time. I thought that maybe you weren’t enjoying it; that maybe you would rather be doing your work-! Ow, Sidon.”

The Zora quickly loosened his grip on your hand with a flurry of apologies; he had been so caught off guard by your words that he hadn’t even noticed that he was gripping you tighter. Sidon had tried his hardest to suppress his guilty feelings but apparently that had only made it even more obvious. Now his feelings had ruined their evening and upset you which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid.

With a defeated sigh, Sidon looked down at you, meeting your worried and confused and felt his guilt give his heart a brutal kick that made him pull you into a hug. “I am so sorry, my treasure, I did not mean to spoil your time together but… I will admit that I have been distracted. Distracted by my own guilt, I’m afraid.” He pulled away and was met with a concerned look from you.

“Guilt? Sidon, I don’t understand. Why do you feel guilty?” Sidon turns his head but you squeeze his hand and say his name in such a way that he couldn’t ignore you if he wanted to.

What felt like the hundredth sigh that evening passed through the Zora’s lips and he turned to face you again before he responded, “I feel guilty… for not giving you the attention you deserve. I spend countless hours working and working to protect the kingdom that sometimes I rarely get to spend any time with you let alone see you and that’s just… just… unacceptable! You deserve so much more than that. I’m sorry.”

There is a long pause between two of you and the Zora is sure that he has stunned you into silence one that goes on for an almost unbearable amount of time. Sidon is just about to try and take back his words or laugh it off; anything to fill up this dreadful silence but you beat him to the punch in a much more physical manner. You suddenly leap up and tackle him, the force knocking him back down to the ground. On instinct, his arms flung around his lover to protect them, letting out a soft grunt when his back collided with the grassy dirt.

Before Sidon can even open his mouth to question your actions he feels your arms wrap around his neck clinging so tightly to him that he is worried that he might not be able to breathe properly. “Don’t! Do not apologize.” You suddenly state as you press your face into his chest and the Zora flinches holding you just a little tighter feeling a wet droplet hit his chest.

“My dearest… are you crying?”

Yes!” You exclaim as you sit up and Sidon adjusts his head to look at you better when your hands cup his cheeks guiding his gaze. He can see the tears running down your cheeks and it makes his doubts clench his heart in a vice grip.

“Sidon,” Your voice goes soft as you lean close to him, “I don’t care that you get busy sometimes. I mean, I do care but I’m not upset at you for it. You’re a Prince for Hylia’s sake!” You laugh as you sit up and the Zora carefully reaches up to wipe your tears away finding them disturbingly out of place on your face.

“But still-!”

Sidon watches astonished as you grab his hand and push it away shooting a glare in his direction, however there is no anger in your piercing gaze, only determination. “But nothing! Sidon, I love you more than anything. You know this, and I know that you feel the same. That is enough for me.” The Zora is left speechless, not that he could really speak if he wanted to because the moment you stop talking you lean down and capture his lips.

He tenses in surprise, but the longer your lips are connected the more he relaxes until his hands are gently pressing you him deepening the kiss. It’s almost shocking how this one kiss can make Sidon completely forget about his worries as if this kiss was absorbing all the guilt in his body and replacing it with a heavenly bliss.

All too soon for Sidon, however, it ended and a pout formed on his lips when you laughed at what was probably a very longing look on his face. He brightens up when you smile and plant one more sweet kiss upon his lips appeasing him for now. “I love you Sidon. Regardless if you’re always with me,” you said as your hands removed themselves and then suddenly slapped his cheeks, not nearly hard enough to hurt, but it definitely got the Prince’s attention. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“Okay, my love”

“Good, now let me fix your crown, my sweet prince. You’re going to crumple the flowers.”

Insecure || Calum Hood

^^ the first sentence of this request. love u so much, anon lol

Summary: Calum goes off to buy some milk and bumps into a few fans. One of them raise his insecurity in your relationship and he attempts to break things off with you. But you refuse to let that happen.

ladies and gentlemen, this blog is currently being run by Calum fucking Hood. and honestly? im totally okay with it. 

I M A G I N E 

“Shit, Y/N!” Calum called out to you from the kitchen. The two of you were in your apartment as today was Calums day off in the tour. While you were watching TV, he was rummaging through your fridge for good. “There’s no more milk!” 

“Then go buy some more, babe,” you told him with a smile. Calum grins, nodding before grabbing his pair of the house keys and his phone. “Can you get me a chocolate bar while you’re at it? I really want some chocolate right now.” You asked, giving him your infamous puppy eyes. 

“So long as you give me a kiss, I will,” Calum muses cutely. You gesture him over, watching as he adorably skips to you and lowers his head to plant a kiss on your lips. He then escaped from the apartment and darted to the market. He wore his shades in semi-hope that no fans mob him again. God knows he can’t handle that again. But, as he went to the dairy section and picked up a gallon of milk, 5 fans slowly approached him. 

“C-Calum Hood?!” A fan said in a quiet, but urgent voice. Calum turned over and smiled, removing his glasses to show off his beautiful, chocolate eyes. The girls squealed, requesting pictures one by one. Once they all did, they all started a small conversation. And honestly, Calum loved that. He loved talking to his fans rather than just take a picture. 

“How’s Y/N, Calum?” Asked one fan with blue hair. Calum felt elated, as he always loved talking about you. You were his favorite person, his life, his world. There was an adoration for you that nobody has ever earned from him.

“She’s gorgeous, as always,” Calum said first, a picture of you appearing in his mind. “But she’s doing well, thanks for asking. In fact, thinking about her now, I have to go get a chocolate bar for her.” The rest of the girls giggle while the girl with blue hair just looked wistfully. The girls began asking about Luke and Michael and Ashton, as Calum answered them. They would squeal and cheer, hearing about their favorite members and how they’re doing.

“We’ve got to go! It’s was so great meeting you, Cal!” A brunette started, as she began waving and walking away with the 3 other girls. But the blue one remained. So, as Calum was a nice guy, he kept chatting with her.

“Calum, do you ever think about Y/N while you’re on tour?” the blue-haired girl, which Calum learned her name is Laura, asked. 

“Of course I do! She’s my girlfriend!” Calum exclaimed. Although not wanting to be rude, it was a stupid question. Why wouldn’t he think about the girl he loves each and every day.

“No, I mean, in regards of the relationship,” Laura elaborates. 

“What do you mean?” Calum asked, completely confused at the question.

“She must be alone at home every day while you’re off living your dream with millions of girls rooting for you,” Laura said, giving Calum a sympathetic look. “Don’t you ever think that maybe she’s tired of waiting?”

“Waiting?” Calum asked. 

“Waiting for you to settle at some point and see you every day and cherish every single one of them with you,” Laura said softly as she picked up a few apples that were on a stand in the market. “I mean, Y/N not only has to put her fair share in keeping contact with you, but she also has to keep up with millions of girls who want you and despise her.”

“But Y/N is willing to wait, she said so herself!” Calum tries to argue. But there was a spec of uncertainty in his voice. This fans words was making Calum doubt you, making him paranoid that he might not be the one for you. But he couldn’t stand another guy being by your side. 

“No offense, Calum, but maybe you just aren’t good enough,” Laura says, making Calums heart slightly break. He wasn’t… good enough? What does that consist of then? Is it that he’s not making her happy? “The two of you seem very happy now, and that’s awesome. But just think about her future happiness, okay?”

“I… sure,” Calum mumbled. He hugged the fan before they went their separate aisles. Calum couldn’t help but think how right that fan was. He was keeping you from living and opportunities like better guys. Guys that can actually be around more often than he can. Purchasing the items, he was practically trotting his way home. His feet felt heavy as well as his heart from emotion. He didn’t want to let you go at all. A few moments later, Calum entered with woe as you practically shot up from the couch to greet him.

“Hey Cal, welcome back!” You rushed over to him, wanting to give him a peck on the lips. But Calum merely bothered moving down to let you, having you get on your toes in order to kiss him. You frowned afterwards but ignored it. “How was your trip to the supermarket?” Calum shrugged as he walked into the kitchen to put the milk in the refrigerator.

“I got your chocolate, Y/N,” Calum mumbled, holding a chocolate bar to you without even meeting your eyes. But you looked closely into his, seeing how they were becoming shiny. He was about to cry. 

“Calum, what happened?” You asked with worry. You tried to grab his hands but he backed off. 

“Y/N, I… would you be happier if you stopped waiting for me?” Calum spilled, still looking away from you. Not waiting for Calum? But that was the entire plan. To wait for Calum’s career to simmer down and finally settle with the bass-playing boy you adored so much. 

“What do you mean if I ‘stopped waiting’ for you?” You asked, waiting for the tears collecting in his eyes to drop. But Calum uses all his might to keep them in. He was always one to keep in his emotions, mentally and physically.

“I think it’d be better if we broke up,” Calum blurted out, his gaze falling from the wall to the floor. “It would be better for you if you found a guy who could… settle down and be there for you 24/7 when you need him. R-rather than a guy who’s on tour while you stay home, alone, trying so hard to keep up with him…” Calum drifted off, his tears finally escaping as droplets splash onto the hard ground. “I’m not good enough for you, Y/N… I’m just not… that’s what a fan told me…” Instead of exploding into a huge rant, you went up to him and grabbed his wrists quickly before he can even run away. You looked up at his hung down head, smiling up at his sad face. 

“Hey, you,” you whispered with a small smile, seeing Calums face finally focus on you. “I wouldn’t have gotten with you if I didn’t want to, or wasn’t willing to, wait for you. But I got with you, knowing these facts, because I love you and I learned over the time knowing you that it really is worth it. It’s so fucking worth the wait, Calum. I’m always going to keep up with you because I adore you and love everything about you. I don’t care about the fans hating me because I just want to be with you and be one of the causes of your happiness.” You paused, looking at Calums face lightening up with puffy eyes and a tear-drenched face. You get on your toes and lean up to kiss off a tear that was rolling down his cheek and nearly falling to the floor. “So I’m going to be with you and wait, okay?”

“Y-Y/N…” Calum whispered, looking into your eyes as he finally leaned down to kiss your lips. It was passionate and heated, full of love and desire and commitment. “I love you so fucking much, I’m sorry for even trying to break up with you. I don’t ever want to lose you.” 

“Ditto,” you said, giving Calum a quick smile before opening the chocolate bar. “C’mon, let’s eat this and cuddle.” With Calum nodding vigorously, he followed you to the couch to nuzzle together and eat the chocolate bar that Calum bought. “Oh my gosh, Calum.”

“What?” Calum asked softly, looking down at the now bitten chocolate bar. 

“I should’ve asked you to get ice cream, too,” you pout as Calum laughs at you. He grabs the chocolate bar and takes a huge bite, making you wail in jealousy as Calum was amused. 

heeeeey lovelies! another request done by moi! i love writing you guys what you want, it makes me smile so much! please send in more! i love requestssssss so baaaad. also, check out my masterlist if you want a bit of Luke, Michael, and Ashton.

Masterlist here -> MASTERLIST

Send in requests right here -> REQUEST

My Love Has Wings

prompted by @megamegaturtle, who sent this post to me

Megamind/Roxanne

K+ rating, retelling-of-the-movie AU 

(AO3, FFN)

Summary: When you are loved, you grow wings.


Megamind had wings once.

(soft and downy gray-white baby feathers, proof of his parents’ love, meant to be replaced with other, later feathers as love grows.)

The feathers fall out as he falls through the emptiness between the stars, as the two people who loved him are pulled into a black hole and wink out of existence. When he crashes to the ground, the prisoners who look down into the opening pod find a wingless blue baby with a too-large head, lying in drifts of colorless feathers.

Keep reading

Pluviophile

Pairing: Wonho x reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Length: Drabble

Summary: One rainy morning, you sleep in with Wonho.

A/N: Also posted here.

————————————————————————————-

The clock reads 10:17am but as you glance over your shoulder, you see fat droplets of water sliding down your window, the sky a dark gray.

You turn back with a content sigh, snuggling further into the strong arms clapsed around your shoulders. A cheek rests on the crown of your head, soft puffs of air rhythmically disturbing your flyaway strands.

Wonho can sleep through anything, so you’re not surprised the gentle pitter-patter of the rain only serves to lull him deeper into his dreams. He stirs a little, curling around you and tangling your legs together even more.

He’s like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, you think, but it brings a smile to your face as you remember when he told you he can only rest well if he has you in his arms, if he knows you’re next to him. Even just holding hands or touching shoulders as you’re sleeping chases his nightmares away, he said.

You pretended to be embarrassed and told him to stop saying such cheesy things, but you felt warmth spread through you because you felt the same exact way about him. Knowing he’ll protect you, care for you and think of you even in his sleep makes you dizzy with how lucky you feel to have him.

He stirs again, murmuring nonsense into your hair. You wonder why he woke up again, but whisper at him to go back to sleep. Without another word, you could feel the soft smile play on his lips as he pulls you closer against his broad chest, the beat of his heart soothing you back into slumber.

Cherry | 1 (M)

Pairing: taehyung x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, demon!au

A/N: inspired by my extremely, dark, twisted fantasies

  • Patient 204
  • Hallucinations
  • Violent and temperamental
  • Possible Schizophrenic
  • A danger to herself and others

“Daddy,” you cried into your knees, rocking gently back and fourth. “I want my daddy. I don’t want to be alone. I want my daddy.” You jumped in fear as another bang shook your house, unconsciously moving closer to the back of your wardrobe.

“Come into my arms,” a voice softly whispered and you squeezed your eyes shut as fingers deliberately stroked your back. “They won’t be able to find you if you’re in my arms.”

You could barely see the man, his red eyes glaring at you through the gaps of your clothing, his eyes were the only thing visible but you didn’t want to run. “How did you get in here? My brother locked the door.”

So terribly naive, so terribly innocent. “Because I’m magic,” the man whispered excitedly and a grin replaced your quivering lip, your tears disappearing at the sight of his boxy smile. “I’m your magic friend.”

Furrowing your eyebrows at the word, you stared at him in confusion. “Friend?” You’ve never had a friend before, the children at school said you were too weird to have friends. “But no one wants to be my friend. I’m weird.”

The man dramatically gasped, his eyes widening in horror. “I want to be your friend,” you moved closer to him as footsteps grew closers, your mother’s scream tearing your heart to shreds. With the door handle wiggling violently, the only place to go was the man’s arms. “You know what I think?”

Pouting up into the air, you blinked. “What?”

“I think everyone is jealous,” the man wrapped his cloak covered arms around your tiny frame and his warmth enveloped you but you weren’t scared, he smelt of cherry’s. “You have a magic friend and they don’t.”

As your door was kicked in, your wardrobe door flung open, bathing you and the unknown man both in light but you were completely hidden in the man’s arms, bathed in complete darkness. The men before you cursed at being met with nothing but an empty wardrobe and you whimpered in fear.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. They can’t see you.” The men left your house with a yell of frustration, slamming your door shut so hard it flung back from it’s hinges and you flinched, sinking deeper into the vibrating chest.

Your magic friend was right, they didn’t find you.

“As long as you’re with me, no harm will ever come to you.”

Keep reading

Control - Chapter Two

A/N: Apologies, but this week has been insane. Hopefully, you’ll all forgive me just a little. Without further ado, here is more of what was promised. If you missed chapter one, you can find it here. Next chapter can be found here.

Don’t move.

You’re trying not to tremble, trying every trick in the book to not move. One slip and you’ll connect with him and then… oh god oh god oh god…

Every sense is on hyper-alert, every sound of his even breathing matching against every second gasp you make, the light disappearing between the two of you, the smell of him so close that it wraps around you like a blanket and blocks out everything else, the idea that only a few millimeters are between your lips and his and if he moves, if he only parts his lips just slightly…

Keep reading

Numb

Title: Numb

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Words: 3,475

Warnings: Angst, lots of swearing (lots of f-bombs, yay!), a little fluff

A/N: Sorry in advance, just saying. Oh, my poor babies :’(
Also, feel free to shower me with requests if you have any. I’d like some of those. Anyways, enjoy?

————————-

“You are insane. You are fucking insane.”

It was supposed to be easy — The hunt. You were supposed to go into the warehouse, kick some demon ass with the Winchesters, and be back at the bunker before midnight with a job well done. But of course, that would be way to easy.

“Do you think we could stop for a burger or something? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Being a hunter automatically comes with a shortened life span, and traveling around and hunting with the Winchesters means an even shorter life span than that. Add in the consequences of saving the world a few times, and you’ve got great dinner conversation.

“Dean, shut up,”

And one of those consequences is lying right in front of you. Dying.

“Woah there, Y/n. Not that I don’t mind or anything, but isn’t it a little soon in our relationship to be taking off your shirt?”

What an idiot. What a suicidal idiot.

“Dean Winchester, I swear, if you don’t shut up right now, so help me god, I will kill you myself.”

Now in your tank top, you crumble up your button-up into a ball and press it hard onto his stomach wound, and he shifts and moans in pain at the contact.

“Where are we, Sam?” You ask loudly, not taking your eye off the face in front of you. You hear a worried sigh come from the front of the car.

“Still about ten minutes, Y/n.” He replies, and you can detect the note fear in his voice. You don’t blame him, though. You’re scared, too. His brother — Your best friend — is literally dying in the back seat, and the only thing keeping him from dying is absolutely nowhere.

Cas, you think. If you’re hearing this, you need to get your angelic ass down here.

Your hands are beginning to feel damp and you curse under your breath when you see that the shirt underneath them is now soaking wet. You keep it there anyway, mostly as a way to disguise the fact that Dean’s dying and there’s nothing you can do. Still, despite the slim chances you can see, you know the Winchesters. They’ve each literally died multiple times, and yet here they are, still mostly alive.

“Hey, Y/n, has anyone tol … told you how pretty you look today?” Dean slurs, and you grimace as a streetlight you drive by illuminates his face, showing you just how pale he’s become. You gently grab his hand with yours to comfort the both of you, but your eyes widen as you realize just how cold it is.

“Oh god,” You whisper.

Dean smiles wearily, and squeezes your hand and you feel like you want to cry as you notice that his grip is weak, and growing weaker by the second. A shiver shakes him uncontrollably, and you watch him slowly blink his eyes as he struggles to keep them open.

“If I … If I don’t . . Make it, Y/n,” He starts, and your heart drops as you can see that even his speech is becoming difficult. You’re quick to slip your hand from his grasp and gently touch your pointer finger to his lips.

“Shh,” you say quietly. “Don’t talk like that.”

He coughs weakly, and you flinch as wet droplets hit your face. You slowly lift the finger from his lips to a drop on your cheek, just as you pass by another streetlight, and as you look down at Dean from the dot of blood on your finger, your get a haunted look in your eyes as you see that his lips and teeth are stained the same color.

You suddenly realize he’s moving his lips, but the sound isn’t coming out. Carefully, you push your hair behind your shoulder as you slowly angle your ear closer to him. His voice is breathy, but you still manage to hear something.

“I love …” His face twists in pain, but he fights hard to get the final word out. “Y-You.”

You freeze. He … What?

All efforts to try to regain your composer are lost because what he said has already taken root in your mind, as no matter how hard you know you’ll try, it’ll never leave.

You open your mouth to respond, but you stop in your tracks as you see Dean’s head roll to the side, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you say quietly as you grab his head in your hands and try to steady it. “C’mon, you fucker, stay with me.” He doesn’t respond.

“Sam!” You yell to the front of the car.

“Already on it!”

You both hear and feel the engine roar as it pushes it’s limits further, and you hope and pray that all the hours Dean put into making that car purr pay off.

You make it to the hospital in record time, and before you know it, Dean’s being rolled away for immediate surgery on a gurney, and you and Sam are stuck waiting with your tails between your legs as you count the seconds on the clock.

—————

It’s been hours since you’ve last seen Dean, and you’ve probably worn a path in the floor from your constant pacing back and forth in the waiting room. Sam sits in a chair, his hands clasped together, brows furrowed together in thought.

Neither one of you has said a word to each other, only to the doctors, but none so far have had any new knowledge of Dean’s condition.

He’s all you can think about. His smile, his laugh, his strange need to throw himself in front of danger like he’s invincible. Clearly, he’s not. You wouldn’t be here if he was. He’s just an idiot.

An idiot who apparently loves you.

No, he can’t love you. He — That was just the blood loss talking. He was delusional. He didn’t even know what he was saying. Love is not something either of you do, at least not romantically. You love dogs, cats, and the color purple. You don’t love spiders, you actually hate them with a burning passion. You don’t love the color red. And you most certainly don’t love Dean. And yet, why does your heart flutter whenever you think of him now? What did he ever do to you to make you feel this way? Why do three lousy words make you feel all tingly and warm and girly?

The guy’s like your older brother. Loving him the way he supposedly “loves” you has to be like incest or something. It’s totally pushing the boundaries of your strictly platonic relationship.

What an asshole.

Why the fuck did he have to say that? Why did he have to go fuck up everything by charging in after those demons like he was some kind of wannabe hero? And then when he was literally dying in your arms, instead of quoting a famous movie character’s most memorable line, he had to go and say that.

Well, it was certainly memorable all right.

And the idiot didn’t even give you the chance to respond after saying that before he decided to just faint. How the hell are you supposed to respond to that anyway? Are his feelings even real?

Your mind kept running it circles, always ending up with you being furious and confused with Dean. You don’t understand any of it, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to ask him questions about it later.

Footsteps echo from down the hall and you see a doctor walking towards you with obvious news. You’re quick to alert Sam, and he practically flies out of his seat. The doctor’s expression is unreadable as far as you can tell, and you fidget anxiously as you wait for him.

“You two relatives of Dean Winchester?” He asks as he stops in front of you. You nod quickly, too focused on the news he’s carrying to correct him. His expression turns solemn, and you can tell that what he’s about to say isn’t going to be good.

He clears his throat before speaking. “I’m afraid the damage to his internal organs was too severe. I’m terribly sorry.”

In that moment, it’s like everything goes out of focus.

You see Sam out of the corner of your eye and watch him falter as the news of his brother’s death resonates. You see his eyes begin to glisten with moisture, but yours remain dry. You vaguely hear words being passed from Sam to the doctor, and that’s when you can’t do it anymore. You suddenly feel claustrophobic, and run for the exit. Sam calls your name and reaches out to stop you but you slip right through his fingers. You keep running, keep going, until your three hundred miles away, driving a car you stole from a gas station at some point along the way. Still, despite finding the chance to breathe, you don’t shed a single tear. Not even one.

———————-

“Cas, please,” You beg. “I just want it to stop.”

Cas shakes his head. “What you’re asking me to do — I can’t. No, I won’t. I won’t do that for you, Y/n. You’re grieving, I get that. We all are, but it’s been nearly three months now —“

“I don’t give a fuck how long it’s been, Cas, just take the damn thing away. I don’t fucking what to feel like this anymore!”

He flinches at your sudden burst of anger, and after a long moment of silence, he opens his mouth. “You know what the consequences of removing it are? You remember what happened to Sam?” You nod. That’s the whole reason why you wanted it in the first place.

Cas flashes you an uneasy look, his mouth twisted into an unpleased frown. “I’m going to keep it safe for you until you decide you want it back.” He says, and his consideration makes you smile, despite what was about to happen.

“I won’t.”

——————-

You’re fearless now. You’re free. You’re practically unstoppable. You fly through cases with ease, even though you’re going solo. Sam calls every now and then, but you never answer. You’re too busy being the best hunter you’ve ever been. It’s amazing. Most monsters run when they catch wind of you, and the few that decide to stay merely have a death wish.

You’ve never felt better. You don’t have any remorse or any feelings for anything anymore. It’s like you’ve been surgically numbed, thanks to Cas.

Who really needs a soul anyway?

That’s right. Cas took your soul from you. He’s not like a demon, though, you can have it back whenever you want, not that you think you’ll be wanting it anytime soon.

Feelings are useless anyways.

They only slow you down.

You’re nearly finished packing your small duffle bag on your motel bed after catching wind of a new case a few towns over. All you have to grab in your phone charger from the wall behind you, and you’ll be ready to hit the road. You turn to retrieve it, but find yourself staring at a familiar trench-coated angel with piercing blue eyes. He seems more exhausted than usual, and you can guess why. Still, his sudden presence confuses you.

“Cas?” You ask incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There’s something I think you should see, Y/n.” He replies, taking a tentative step towards you.

You roll your eyes, and brush off his request. “I’m busy, Cas. Maybe some other time.” You start to walk around him to retrieve your charger, but he steps in front of you, blocking your path.

“That was not a suggestion.” He says, his voice carrying the beginnings of a threat.

You’ve just chosen to ignore him and take your first step around him, but instead of your foot being met by carpet, it’s met instead by rough gravel. You quickly realize you’re standing somewhere else, somewhere you’ve been before. It’s been months since you’ve been to the bunker, and the idea of suddenly standing at the door is strange.

“Cas,” you say warily. “Why are we here?”

He doesn’t say anything, just knocks. Almost immediately, the bunker door is opened by a head of familiar long brown hair. He looks more exhausted and thinner than he used to, but there’s a spark of life in his eyes that you can’t help but notice.

“Sam,” You say, your brows slightly raised. He laughs and pulls you in for a hug. You don’t hug back, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” He says as he lets you go. You ignore him as you step further inside the bunker, your eyes darting around the room, noting even the most subtle of changes.

“So, why am I here again?” You ask, picking up a new book, oblivious to the figure who’d just entered the room from his bedroom. You look up just as he enters your line of vision, and you stare at him blankly. He looks exactly as he did the last time you saw him, minus the blood and dying. His smiles curves up as he sees you, and he starts to approach you.

“Hey, Y/n.” He says warmly. His emerald green eyes are ignited with life. Strange. You don’t remember seeing him that way last time.

“Dean,” you reply, your voice coming out in a flat, emotionless line as you lay the book back down where you found it. His smile wavers and he looks at you oddly. He seems to come to the conclusion that something’s wrong with you because he grabs a knife, one you remember as being made of silver, and the small bottle of holy water he keeps on him at all times from his pocket.

“When did we first meet?” He asks warily, slowly starting to approach you again. He’s obviously testing you to see if you’re possessed or something, and you can’t help but find the whole idea of it amusing.

“July first, almost exactly two years ago.” You reply easily. “You’re the idiot who accidentally shot me with rock salt on that case with the spirit of that drunk slob who was haunting the lives of his grandchildren.”

“And what did I say to you afterwords?” You smirk. Trick question.

“You didn’t say anything. Sam had to apologize for you by asking to me to join you two for dinner because you were too busy whining about being hungry. We only started to become friends when we both ordered the same burger at the diner.”

You hold out your arm as he stops in front of you, and you don’t even flinch as he glides the blade across your forearm, drawing a thin line of blood along with it. You obviously don’t squeal or suddenly burst into flames, so that sort of narrows down what you could possibly be. Next, in the form of a small splash, comes the holy water. You roughly wipe off your dripping face with your hands, and open your eyes to find Dean staring at you like you’re some kind of alien.

“What the hell are you?” He asks dangerously, holding the knife out in front of him.

“I’m still Y/n,” You say, your smile fake. “I haven’t changed.”

“Actually, she has,” Another voice pipes in, and you both turn your gaze to Cas as he starts to walk towards you. “And I’m afraid I can explain why.” You step to the side as Cas begins to describe to Dean what his death actually did to you. When he gets to the part about you asking him to remove your soul, Dean head immediately snaps towards you and he bursts with fury.

“You did what?

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just a soul, Dean, it’s not like I jumped off a cliff or sold it to bring you back. It’s not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Not as bad as is could’ve been,” he repeats, grumbling. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

Sam, having just found out as well, also feels the need to voice his concern. “He’s right, Y/n. What were you thinking?” He asks before turning to Cas. “And what were you thinking that made removing her soul sound like a good idea?”

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting Cas to bring you back!” You retort.

Dean snorts. “And that makes any of this better, how?” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“It’s not like I can’t get it back, Dean.” You say. “Cas didn’t just throw it away,”

“Then go get it and be done with it.” He says, and you shake your head hard.

“No,”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because for for the first time in my life, I don’t have to worry about a damn thing. I don’t have to worry about food or sleep, and I can do twice as many cases on my own than we ever did. Not only that, but I’m a fucking fantastic hunter,” you mouth curves into a smirk. “I’m even better than you, Dean.” You add. “Jealous?”

His eyes practically big out of his skull. “That’s why you don’t want your soul back? All because you’re finally a better hunter than me?” He chuckles bitterly. “Well, congratulations, Y/n, you’re the best of the best. Do you want a fuckin’ gold star or something?” You huff in annoyance.“I’m serious. You’re better than me, Sam, or any hunter’ll ever be, but guess what, you had to ditch your fuckin’ soul to get there!”

He sighs, frowning. “Did you not hear me in the car?”

“You were delusional, Dean. You didn’t even know what you were talking about.”

“Damn, Y/n,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “If I was delusional then, then explain to me why I’m still feeling the same way now,”

“I can’t love you, Dean.” You have to look down as you quietly say that, your voice the closest it can be to sadness. You don’t want to see the look on his face, even though you know he hurts.

“Why not?” He asks, a bit of desperation in his voice. You swallow as you try and find the right way to answer.

“Because …” You start, your voice dropping off as you gather your thoughts. “Because why do you think I gave Cas my soul in the first place, Dean? I realized after you died, that I … That I loved you, you idiot.” You say softly, your face hardening as you add, “But you didn’t even give me time to figure that out before you were already dead!”

You sigh. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t do love, alright? Relationships, pouring all of myself into someone else and having to trust them with everything — It’s not that I don’t love you, Dean, it’s just that I can’t. Emotionally, if you were to die again — this time for real —“

“Y/n,” Cas says, somehow the only calm one in the room. “I brought Dean back because I couldn’t stand to see you do that to yourself anymore. I already felt badly for not being able to respond when it happened, and I knew there was only one person who could convince you to stop.”

Dean nods in agreement and lays a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Please, “ he says. “At the very least do it for me.” The contact feels strange. You know you’re supposed to feel something, but you don’t because you don’t exactly have a soul to feel with. Still you feel a hard tug in your chest where your soul should be, and it’s painful, but you finally decide that they’re right.

You turn to Cas before opening your mouth. “I’d like it back now. Please,”

He nods, and then you’re suddenly filled with a pain so intense that it makes you scream and writhe in agony, but Dean’s there to hold you steady, and whispers reassuring thought into your ear the entire time. When Cas is finished, you slowly turn your head to look at Dean, who’s waiting anxiously beside you.

All the feelings rush back at you at once, and for the first time in month, your smile is genuine. You plant a soft kiss on his lips and he hold you close, never wanting to let you go. And in that moment, you know that although the possibility of having to let him go in the future might be hard, you’ve got plenty of caring friends to help you along the way.

You pull away from Dean just as a single tear falls from your eyes, and you finally say what you’ve been dying to say for months. “I love you, Dean.”