#I couldn't remember so I just made one up

[fortunapre]

𝐖𝐡at Happens 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬… | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

SUMMARY★ the internet gets suspicious after Oscar Piastri’s childhood best friend shows up to the USA GP after swearing off races a year ago…

(multiple face claims)

instagram

View likes

y/nusername home sweet home *read in southern mama accent*

View comments⇩

oscarpiastri: hey! no way i’m going to be there too what a coincidence!

➜ y/nusername: its not a coincidence im stalking you

➜ oscarpiastri: 😀 what.

y/nbff: tell me you’re joking

➜ y/nusername: lemme tell you something... LEMME TELL YOU SUMTHING!

user1234: why does @y/nbff sound mad? Did she not tell her bsf or something?

➜ user999: don’t quote me on this but i’m pretty sure it has to do with the drama about y/n and her ex.

➜ user 1234: wait what?!? Im new what is that???

➜ f1updatesfans: well like i think 2 years ago y/n was seen around with this guy while she was in Austin (her home town) for the USA race.

➜ f1updatesfans: Then suddenly he like disappeared and y/n didn’t go to another race since. but now apparently she’s going to this one??? it’s all very speculative but yeah.

➜ user1234: ok but what does y/n have to do with formula one? Wait was she dating a driver?

➜ f1updatesfans: No! I dont think so... And shes Oscar’s friend I think. Best friend.

imessages- y/n's POV

Once y/n got off of the plane and through the gate, she stood waiting for Oscar. Considering he was already in town for the race, he had no problem coming to get her. They were best friends after all.

y/n had a hand on her suitcase and leaned against a pillar. She looked worn out and utterly tired. Her eye bags could practically be called carry-on luggage. She rested her head on the wall and scrolled through her contacts before choosing Oscar's name.

Her phone only rang once before Oscar's voice answered from the other side.

"Hey, y/n." He said in his signature sweet tone that always made y/n smile. The corner of her mouth lifted at his voice while she closed her eyes. Maybe tired was an understatement.

She was exhausted. Usually she just sleeps on planes, but for the whole 6-hour trip she never dozed off. The closest she got was simply closing her eyes.

She couldn't sleep. Not when she was so worried about what would happen once she landed.

"Yeah, hey Oscar." she murmured, and let out a long yawn. "My gate is A6." She held her phone between her shoulder and cheek while she tried to fish out her wallet from her purse.

"You good? You sound tired. Or sad. I can't really tell over the phone." Oscar spoke through the speaker pressed up against her ear.

"Yes, I'm fine..." Once she found her wallet, she pulled out cash to buy something to drink at the mini market across from her gate.

"Oh, I see you! Stop walking I'm coming to your right now." Oscar said quickly. Y/n looked around her, trying to find him. Eventually, she spotted his familiar smile.

They both hung up the phone as Oscar got closer. He was smiling at her, almost smirking really. When he stood next to her, he took a moment to look at her state, no doubt remembering it to make fun of later.

Y/n smiled back and then continued walking to the minimarket, with Oscar alongside her.

Once she got her water, they both started walking towards the exit.

"Here, I can take this." Oscar stopped y/n and put his hand on top of her hand which was holding her suitcase. His touch felt familiar and warm. His hands always felt rougher than they looked, but y/n felt comfort in knowing it was Oscar. At first, she didn't speak.

She was too busy staring at their hands because something different was happening.

She felt different. Suddenly, she wanted his hand to never leave. She wanted his hand to grab hers and lace their fingers. She wanted his hand to touch her more.

She shook her head and looked away from their hands. She must be really tired, and sleep deprived.

Instead of agreeing verbally, y/n just let go, suddenly conscious of Oscar's burning touch, and nodded, letting him take her suitcase.

instagram

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername airport fit check

photo credits: lando norris’s teammate, i think?

View comments ⇩

oscarpiastri shut up

landonorris *my future boyfriend

➜ ynusername LANDO WHAT! is this a hard launch for you two???? wdym your bf

➜ landonorris WAIT HAHA NO I MEANT MY AS IT YOURS

➜ landonorris I WAS CORRECTING YOU AS YOU

➜ landonorris WAIT DONT

➜ landonorris i’m deleting this.

comment and thread deleted

comments on this post are limited

imessages- oscar's POV

twitter

imessage- oscar's POV

"Who are you texting?" Y/n asked casually, wanting to start conversation. She sat comfortable in a sofa across from him. Originally, they were both laying down on the sofa's facing each other, a table in the middle.

But once Oscar got the first message, he sat up quickly.

At one point y/n caught him looking at her, with the most confused face she's seen on him, but he just went back to typing.

"What?" His head shot up from his phone, and his eyes got wide.

"I asked who you were texting." She replied. Y/n sat up slowly, matching him and then leaned in, with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together.

"Oh. um. no one. Just Lando"

"Oh ok." This conversation was just making her more bored, and she wanted to talk to Oscar. There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. "What about?"

"Hmm?" Oscar seemed extremely distracted.

"What about?"

Instead of answering, he ran a hand through his hair and looked down. Y/n was going to ask what was wrong but he suddenly stood up and walked around the sofa.

He was still silent, and he changed positions to now stand behind the sofa and leaned on back, arm folded, facing away from her.

"Osc-" Y/n was going to ask why he was so distracted, but he cut her off.

He turned around, now looking her in the eye. "y/n can I ask you something?"

Now y/n was worried, because what could be on his mind that he needed to ask her about.

"Of course, Osc"

Oscar looked at her as she waited for his question. Like really looked at her. She was wearing Mclaren merch with his number on the back of course. She looked gorgeous. The realization made Oscar run a hand through his hair again, no doubt messing it up this time.

"It's kind of personal, y/n. I understand why you haven't said anything about it before. It's your personal life and I want you to know that i understand."

"Oscar what-"

"Is your ex in Austin?"

Y/n was surprised to say the least. She knew that questions about her past relationship would come up, but Oscar asking was surprising. She told him last year about how her ex broke up with her.

She was devastated. He had broken up with her over the phone, on the way back from last year's Austin Grand Prix. His reasons were stupid, and his apologies sounded incredibly forced.

She immediately called Oscar and told him everything. Well, everything except from his name. Oscar can be protective when it comes to y/n, so she kept her ex's name secret. It sounds stupid now that she thinks about it because even if Oscar did get mad, he would never do anything Y/n didn't like.

"Yeah. He's here, in Austin, but I haven't talked to him at all. You know what he did, and I want nothing to do with him." Y/n didn't know why she was trying to explain herself so much. She felt like she needed to make it known that there was nothing between her and her ex anymore. What this had to do with Oscar? she didn't know.

He nodded and walked towards her. They both sat next to each other on the small sofa while Oscar overthought everything.

"You want nothing to do with him? like at all? because Lando was making me think that you were possibly here to get back together with him..." He needed to know for sure.

"What? Oscar not of course. Why would Lando think that?"

"I don't know." he was going to run a hand through his hair for the third time, but y/n grabbed his wrist instead. She held his hand softly and intertwined their fingers.

Oscar felt relieved. Y/n was probably wondering why Oscar had so many sudden questions about her love life, but neither of them brought up the suddenness of the conversation. They instead sat close together; hands intertwined, hoping that the other couldn't tell how fast their heart is beating at the they're simple touch.

instagram

liked by mclaren, ynusername and others

oscarpiastri new merch that even I'd wear (it's a white shirt, get it?)

view comments ⇩

ynusername cool now I have another shirt i can steal

➜ oscarpiastri get your own! https://mclaren.com

➜ oscarpiastri hope this helps!

➜ ynusername you're going to give it to me anyways I know it

➜ oscarpiastri probably...

landonorris @.ynusername where have you beeeeeen I haven't seen you all weekend

➜ ynusername clearing my calendar for you right now!

➜ landonorris tell oscar to stop keeping you to himself!!!

➜ oscarpiastri no go away

➜ landonorris *cough* jealous *cough*

➜ oscarpiastri 😐 that’s enough

Twitter

2 days later, and neither Y/n nor Oscar had made any progress on acknowledging their feelings. Even the internet and gossip columns knew more about it then each other.

a/n:

just a small smau i wanted to try. i’ve never done one of these types of stories, so sorry if its bad or confusing!

not sure if i’ll do a part 2…do we like?

[kashverse]

How do you think would bf!gojo survive the flu, "IF HE SURVIVES IT"

I think that dudes rarely get sick maybe also because of his infinity but if he gets sick, that he will be the babiest of the babies

the real ones remember @naomigojo's germophobe reader x gojo...can't say i wasn't thinking about it when writing this 🙂‍↕️

gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, lay draped over you like a particularly dramatic victorian-era widow who had just received word of her beloved's tragic demise in the war. except, in this case, the war was flu season, and the tragic demise was his immune system.

"i have fallen," he wheezed, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes, his long limbs effectively pinning you to the mattress. his forehead burned against your shoulder, sweat slicking his white hair to his skin. "love has made me weak. love has made me—" he coughed, a truly pathetic sound, before groaning. "—love has made me sick."

"no, i made you sick, dumbass," you croaked, shoving at his shoulder, but he clung to you tighter like a koala with abandonment issues. "i told you not to sleep next to me!"

"and let my sweet, sniffling angel suffer alone? never," he gasped. "never!" another dramatic cough. 

"but now… now i too must bear this curse."

"it's the flu, s'toru."

"oh, so now you don't care that your dear husband is dying?"

"we're not married."

"technicalities," he rasped, reaching for the tissue box and dramatically dabbing his forehead like a victorian lady about to faint at a ballroom dance. except, unfortunately, it was the same tissue you had just blown your nose into.

you gagged. "ewww!"

"sickness of love," he whispered, looking at you with glassy, feverish eyes, voice hoarse but still somehow smug. "our love transcends germs."

"our love is a biohazard."

he chuckled weakly, pressing his fever-warmed forehead against yours. "i feel like i got hit by a train."

"you sound like you got hit by a train."

"oh yeah? well, you sound like a cartoon villain with bronchitis," he shot back, voice cracking pathetically halfway through. he punctuated his insult with an even more pathetic sneeze, which sent his whole body jolting. you felt the full force of it because he was still sprawled on top of you. "get off of me," you groaned, shoving at his heavy frame, but he only groaned dramatically in response.

"no. i must remain close to you. i may not have much time left…"

"you're not dying!"

"…but i shall spend my last moments with my beloved. tell me, my dear," he sniffled, clutching onto your hand. "if i go, will you—"

"i am going to smother you with a pillow."

"oh, how cruel, how heartless!" he gasped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, as if he were a fainting maiden in a period drama. "to think i have loved you so deeply, only to be cast aside in my weakest moment! oh, woe is me!"

"woe is me," you muttered, forcefully shoving a tissue into his hand. “blow your damn nose, properly, before you start monologuing about the fragility of life again.” he sniffled loudly, taking the tissue before collapsing dramatically against you again, sighing like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"this," you grumbled, voice clogged with congestion, "is exactly why i told you not to sleep next to me."

"but what would be the point of my infinity if i couldn't let it down for the one i love?" he murmured, blinking up at you blearily. despite the absolute mess of tissues, the shared misery of high fevers, and his insufferable dramatics, you sighed, feeling your chest soften ever so slightly. 

"…you're still an idiot," you muttered, tucking the blanket over both of you.

"ah, but i'm your idiot," he murmured back, before promptly sneezing directly onto your shoulder.

…you were going to kill him.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Showtime☆

pt2

Lullaby In Blue

When you finally get to the manor, it's dark out.

You were so sleepy. You just wanted your momma. You just wanted your grandpa.

You assume that when you get home, your father will take you in with open arms and talk as sweetly as your momma said.

Unfortunately for you, unlike how momma described him, he's cold and hard to decipher...

You look up at him in a mix of curiosity and excitement. He looked so cool! he was wearing a fancy outfit and he just looked so cool! The only thing that threw you off was how he looked so.....tired.

"WOAH!! You look so cool! Are you my dad? Momma has said so many good things about you! How about that one time when you-" He cut you off.

"Alfred, show her to her room if you will." he started walking away.

Your heart broke a little at that, but it's okay! You win him over sometime! For now, you need a nap.

Alfred walks you to your room while profusely apologizing about Bruce.

You walk into your room. And it's clear they didn't do much research on you...

The toys were better suited for a kid younger than you, maybe around 4 or 5 years old.

You don't complain though, the room is huge and you have a bigger bed than you can imagine!

You have your bedroom and walk-in closet! Alfred says to sleep and tomorrow they'll sort out the room and make it more for you.

The next morning you wake up and decide to unpack a bit.

You didn't have much, just a few clothing items, jewelry from your momma, a few picture frames, and some of momma's old stuff such as paintings and her cassettes of movies.

As soon as you finished unpacking Alfred came to call you down for breakfast.

You go downstairs to see at the table your father, a boy around 23 with black hair, and another boy who looked around 18 years old with also black hair with a white patch.

You introduced yourself to them like your momma taught you.

"Hello!! im Y/N L/N!!! Well, actually I don't know about L/N now because technically he is my dad," you point to Bruce. "I'm kinda hungry," before you could continue with your ramble Alfred shut you up with a plate of pancakes in front of you.

It's clear to everyone but you that 7 in the morning is too early to be this hyper and nonsensical.

"Oo! pancakes! I love pancakes! They're my favorite! My grandpa makes it from scratch-" You pause for a second, a very slight stop that makes your eyes water up a little.

No one could notice it.

Well besides the literal detectives sitting at the table.

You continued rambling for a bit before Alfred mentioned a playground in the backyard, recently designed for you.

"WOAH that's so cool! Can I go play on it? Please?" you made sure to drag the 'e' in 'please', that's how it always worked on momma.

He allowed you to and you quickly got off your chair.

You were about to play outside before realizing you were nowhere near ready to play outside, you still had your PJs on, and your fuzzy socks!

You ran to your room to get ready for the day, which was difficult because momma would always help usually

You were trying not to look sad, you shouldn't be sad. You should be thankful for all the things they're doing for you.

After a couple of hours of playing on the mini playground, you got tired.

You decided to get back inside and eat.

You went inside and saw it was empty. You decided to go into your room and take a nap.

You walked in and realized you forgot to go shopping with Alfred! All the things in your room were baby things, and you only had two other pairs of clothes to wear!

You didn't mind though.

You lay down on the carpet and fell asleep immediately.

It wouldn't hurt to sleep for a while...

You woke up a couple of hours later.

You woke up silently crying, you had a dream about the day you and your momma and grandpa went to a theme park.

You couldn't remember much about the dream, only that you had so much fun.

You don't know why you're crying, you had a great time, did you not?

You didn't understand. This shouldn't be happening.

To calm yourself down, you started humming the lullaby your momma sang to you.

It worked slightly.

You decided to get up and eat, you were hungry and hadn't eaten earlier.

You went downstairs and saw a boy no older than 15 eating a bowl of cereal.

You hadn't met him yet, so you tried to introduce yourself to him!"HELLO! My name is Y/n l/n!!!!! What's your name??"

Unfortunately for you, you caught him at a bad time. He had been working on a case since 7:30 am and this was his break.

"Leave me alone," he said, in a obviously tired tone.

Well, obvious to everyone but you.

You continued asking him questions, only for him to ignore you, grab the bowl of cereal, and walk away to his room.

You looked at him with a confused look on your face.

Your stomach rumbled a bit before you snapped out of it and grabbed yourself a bowl of cereal too.

You ate alone at the table.

The next day while outside in the garden, you saw a boy playing with a dog.

The dog looked so cute! You decided to talk to the boy.

"HELLO!! Im y/n l/n!! it's nice to meet you!!"

You started asking him a lot of questions, like what his name was, what the dog's name was, are you guys were siblings, and more!!

The excitement you had to meet others was overwhelming to some people.

He ended up getting the dog to chase you away.

You ran to your room and stayed there the entire day.

You wanna go home.

You ended up finding out their names at one point or another.

The 23-year-old one was Richard "Dick" Grayson, the 18-year-old one was Jason Todd, the one that shooed you away while eating cereal was Timothy "Tim" Drake, and the boy who got his dog to chase you was Damian Wayne.

You don't understand why they didn't want you, you weren't mean or evil like those villains you saw in the books momma read you, so why did they not want you?

You tried getting into hobbies you didn't care about so you guys could talk about them.

You joined a book club, which you kind of disliked since it was so quiet.

You joined gymnastics, which you were good at and kind of enjoyed, it did help you get your energy out, though!

You tried coding, which you didn't like at all.

You tried art, which you were okay at.

Nothing really stuck!

And it's not like it helped with getting your family to notice you.

It didn't matter to them, they had Gotham to help.

You didn't have actual hobbies or interests for a while.

Not until you were 12.

You had signed up for theater in middle school, and the teacher was nice enough to take you all on a field trip to a play.

It changed your life.

You knew immediately that that's what you wanted to do.

You wanted to spread smiles, just like how this play had spread joy to you and others.

You wanted to perform on stage for others!

You knew this was what you wanted!

As soon as you got home you asked Alfred if for your birthday you could have a stage.

One that was going to be demolished soon due to not bringing in any money.

He decided to think about it.

It was a strange request coming from you.

You never really asked for things like this.

You never really asked for non-neccesities at all!

But he decided to not think about it too hard.

feeding my like 2 emu!reader enjoyers lmfao

oml this took so long

guys lowk im so tired

anyways this is ass

taglist:

@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss

[pomegranatelifethis]

Porcelain Doll

**English is not my native language**

WARNING: THERE IS RAPE, I MARKED THAT, YOU CAN GO WITHOUT READING. DISTURBING ELEMENTS

(A Neglected!Reader x Batfam Story)

In the beginning, Wayne Manor echoed with her laughter. He was someone who filled every room he entered with his light. He made little jokes, tried to make everyone laugh with his cheerful laughter, and said good morning to everyone one by one every morning.

He enjoyed sneaking sugar into Tim's coffee and watching the surprised expression on his face. He would applaud Dick's cool moves while training, and try to provoke Jason by arguing about the books he was reading. Despite Damian's harsh demeanor, she would try to break through the wall between them and talk about things that would interest him—Titus or cats, for example.

As for Bruce... He would always look for an opportunity to call him "Dad", but every time the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, he would sit quietly next to her, sometimes bringing her coffee with a small smile.

But nothing found a response.

At first he tried not to notice. "Maybe they're too busy," he thought. After all, they were all heroes. They lived in a city like Gotham and had responsibilities. So he decided to show himself more and make more effort.

But over time, everything became more and more obvious.

Every "I'm busy now" turned into an endless silence over time.

Every "we'll talk later" became promises that never happened again.

At one point, Dick stopped hearing his voice. Jason stopped laughing at his jokes. Even though Tim was exhausted before his eyes, he didn't even ask him once, "Are you okay?" he didn't ask. Damian didn't even seem to tolerate his presence.

But what hurt the most was Bruce.

When he tried to hug her, Bruce would just shake his head slightly and walk past her. Even when there was a problem, he always consulted others instead of listening to her thoughts. At some point, he just started to feel like a part of the wall—a shadow that existed but went unnoticed.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he laughed, no matter how much he talked... When he realized that it didn't make a difference to them, the light inside him began to fade.

And then, tragedy struck.

No one knew exactly what happened that night. Maybe he had an argument with someone, maybe he was in the middle of a fight. Maybe they didn't even realize someone had hurt him.

But as he left the house that night, the last spark of hope that still burned within him flickered and went out like a candle flame.

When he came back in the morning, he was still the same person—but also completely different.

After that moment, their conversations decreased. Their smiles disappeared.

When Tim looked at him for hours, he no longer made the same fun comments. When Jason made a joke, he didn't even react. No matter how hard Dick tried, he couldn't make him laugh. Even when Damian got angry, he didn't look up.

And Bruce… Even when he realized something was wrong, it was too late.

His eyes were empty, his soul seemed to be lost in a void. It was as if there were no emotions left inside him.

She was just a porcelain doll now. Cold, silent and numb.

And you know what was the worst?

No one remembered when it broke

Porcelain Doll

November 11 – The Day It Broke

Everything started out ordinary that day.

He woke up early in the morning and helped Alfred, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. At that moment, he heard Damian and Tim arguing in the living room and noticed Jason tinkering with his motorcycle in the garage. Bruce was in his study, studying the reports, his eyes narrowed with fatigue.

He tried to approach everyone, as always, preserving the endless energy and joy within him.

He interrupted Damian and Tim's argument, maybe if he made a joke the atmosphere would soften. But Damian glared at him.

“There is no place for unnecessary people here.”

These words hit him like a sharp knife, and for a moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. The smile that fell on his face faded, but he tried to recover. He had hoped Tim would at least defend him, but Tim just sighed and continued talking.

He didn't say anything. He felt like there was something extra there, but he still remained silent.

When he met Dick in the kitchen, he put a big smile on his face.

“Dick! Shall we do something today?”

But Dick's answer was just a smile. “Then, okay?”

When?

Later. Always later.

Everyone had a job. Everyone had a priority.

And he was never among those priorities.

But what hurt him the most was Bruce.

When evening came, he went to her study. Maybe he could at least talk to her for a few minutes. When he knocked on the door, Bruce's voice was heard from inside.

“I'm busy.”

He swallowed. But he didn't give up.

“Dad… Can we just talk for a minute? It won't take long, I promise.”

Silence.

Then he heard his chair creak slightly. Bruce's cold voice echoed again:

“I'm really busy right now. Please come back later.”

Later.

Again?

He walked away, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

That night, no one at the mansion noticed him leaving quietly.

No one knew he was walking alone through the dark streets of Gotham.

No one knew that he felt that it made no difference whether he existed or not in this world that no longer meant anything to him.

And no one found out what happened to him. But you will learn, let's find out what happened

That night, when he left the mansion, no one noticed anything. He silently closed the door and lost his steps in the dark streets. When Gotham's night darkness combined with the feeling of loneliness, everything became even deeper. The weather was cold and the wind was harsh, but the emptiness inside was colder.

A void inside him felt like nothing made any sense anymore. No one looked at him, no one understood what he felt. In this darkness, he didn't have to prove anything to anyone.

The streets embraced him like the dark corners of Gotham. He walked slowly, his steps so light that he could not even hear himself. But then, that darkness came closer to him, deepening the emptiness within him.

Suddenly, there was something he noticed with his eyes—figures blending into the shadows. They moved so fast that he couldn't quite understand what was happening. He didn't want to face them even for a moment with his eyes. But it was too late.

Suddenly, he felt a cold touch on his back. He tried to turn back, but someone grabbed his arms hard. It was done so suddenly and harshly that he was thrown off before he even had a chance to do anything. His face hit the ground and his arms and legs curled up. Everything was blurred, he felt a cold, but painful warmth enveloping his body.

For a few minutes he tried to understand what was happening. The fear inside him only prevented him from hearing the voices. Hands continued to wrap around his body. Everything became blurry for a moment.

When the voices stopped, his joy, which once shone like the light within him, was replaced by deep silence. There was nothing left in his mind. The darkness that night was a breaking point.

He stepped aside, emotionally frozen, despite not being aware of his own body and his hands shaking. That night, he broke in a way that no one else saw anymore. And it would never be the same again.

Telling what happened that night would make every word knot in his mouth. It was a reflection of the break, the pain, the lost joy. But there was something, no longer felt—losing oneself, not belonging to anyone or anything. It all ended with the person he once knew.

And that night, among the cold walls on the west side, no one ever understood what happened to him.

Flashback – The Night It Broke

The streets were dark.

Gotham was always dangerous, but he didn't care at the moment. There was such a big void inside him… He couldn't even feel what was dangerous anymore. His feet dragged him unconsciously from one street to another.

He was cold. But this coldness had penetrated not only his body but also his soul.

At one point, he realized someone was calling out to him. At first he didn't care. But then the steps became heavier. His eyes blurred.

When someone grabbed his arm, he instinctively pulled back. But the streets were silent, there was no escape.

When the touches became harder, he realized that moment.

Something inside him was screaming. He was thinking about the voice that echoed in the Batcave a few hours ago. That short answer Bruce gave him, Damian's disdainful look...

They didn't even know he was here.

And they wouldn't know.

He resisted. But he was tired, very tired.

He felt the hardness of the cold wall on his back. His breathing became irregular. Words didn't come out of his mouth. A pair of hands, then another...

**Those who are uncomfortable with the detailed scene should not read it, maybe I will remove it from the scene**

Without wasting any time, he slid your panties down your legs and forced his big dick into your dry, unprepared hole. it hurt. . It hurt so bad. You screamed and beat him, you raised your hands and tried to beat him with pathetic tears in your eyes, but it didn't work. nothing happened. He was so strong, so big, so muscular, and so desperate that he couldn't give up his relentless and unstrategic attacks. When your screams dried up, big tears flowed from your face. When you gave up and surrendered to the intruder, snot was running down your face. and god listened. He made a few more rough, sloppy thrusts, pushing the tip of his leaking dick towards your cervix, and the man was whining on top of you - filling your pussy with an overwhelming amount of sticky cum.

**Scene ended**

At that moment, his mind fell silent.

Everything fell silent.

The Next Morning – Return Home

When he returned, the moonlight illuminated the garden of the mansion.

He was disheveled, but no one noticed. His hair was disheveled, but no one looked. His face was expressionless, but no one questioned it.

Nobody asked anything.

And he didn't say anything either.

He just went into the bathroom. The water should have been hot, but his skin was numb. It was dirty. He was in a mess. No matter how much he rubbed it, no matter how long he stayed under water, it wouldn't go away.

He knew.

But he still didn't come out of the bathroom for hours.

That day, the last remaining humanity within him broke.

And it didn't belong to anyone anymore. Not to the Batfamily, not to Bruce, not to himself.

[miedei]

sick day

roommate!spencer is sick (and lovely)

a/n: wrote this in a fugue state i think, just couldn't get the thought of being spencer's roommate out of my head

cw: best friends who definitely don't love each other noooo why would you say that, spencer is sick and annoying but also the best

wc: 2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Living with Spencer Reid is usually wonderful. He’s relatively neat, but messy enough that you don’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s always willing to recommend you a new read, he doesn’t judge you when you spend an entire day slumped on the couch, and is always up to help you stress bake. 

It’s decidedly wonderful, until it’s not. A week into your living together, you’d realised what a workaholic he was. After the first time you’d caught him asleep on top of paperwork in the living room, you’d understood how much of a pain Spencer Reid really can be. 

Unfortunately, today is one of those days. Spencer returned from a case last night, and the moment you’d seen the slump in his shoulders, you knew you were going to have to work from home today. 

“You really don’t have to stay home. I don’t even have to stay home! I’m seriously not sick, I swear!” His voice is low, as if attempting to mask the rasp in it. It doesn’t work.

His rambling doesn’t cease, not the entire time you steer him away from the front door and into the living room. 

“Yeah? Spence, do you even remember the last time you got sick? I came home to find you lying on the dining table! I’m not going to leave and come back to you trying to climb out of the window or something.” You deadpan, watching him cross his arm and grumble something about ‘elevating the upper body’, and ‘actually very good for the immune system’. 

Having shoved him not-too-lightly onto the couch, you stand with your arms crossed, eyes narrowed on him.

“I can’t believe you were going to go to work! Living with you is like living with a child sometimes, god. You know you would have been sent home straight away, look at you.” You gesture wildly at him. 

He’s a pathetic sight, curled up on the couch looking distinctly sorry for himself. His hair is limp, flat against his scalp, his weak limbs shoved haphazardly in a button down and slacks. He hasn’t even knotted his tie, leaving it hanging loosely around his neck. 

Grabbing his phone out of his bag, you thrust it towards him. 

“Call your boss and tell him you need a sick day. You said it yourself, it’s just paperwork today, right? You can take a day off once in a while, Spence, it won’t kill you.” Once finished, you stomp out of the room, heading to his bedroom to grab him some clothes. Surveying his closet, you grab one of his Caltech hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, grinning to yourself when you hear his hoarse voice on the phone. 

As you walk back into the living room, he’s settled in, clearly resigned to his fate. 

“Yeah, Hotch, I need the day off. I’m sorry, I’m just- Oh. It’s okay? You’re sure? Um, okay. Thanks Hotch.” He hangs up, his eyebrows pinched as if he’s loath to admit you were right. 

You can’t help it, snickering as you dump the sweats and hoodie on his chest. 

“I told you so.”

“You’re so mean to me.” 

It’s nice, spending a day with Spencer like this, even with how whiny he is. Sitting at the desk in the living room, you’re not being incredibly productive, but Spencer’s fever-induced rambles more than make up for it. 

“So, some moron made a blog called ‘What Would Carl Sagan Do?’, and Garcia - remember her, my coworker? She showed it to me, and oh my god, it’s so ridiculous! I mean, to start, all the entries were lifted from different sci-fi movies and books, and they were all so inaccurate, like, ‘The Martian Chronicles’ were good, but it’s been debunked so many times! Carl Sagan debunked it!”

He’s laying on his back on the couch, slender fingers waving in the air above him, eyes lidded as he speaks animatedly. 

“Yeah? What was wrong about it?” You rise from the desk chair, heading into the kitchen. “Also, do you want tea?”

His voice softens, speaking slower as he answers your question. “Yeah, that black tea you brought home last week, please.”

You can hear the moment he slips back into his rant, words growing more and more spirited as he continues to rail against whatever that blog was. Puttering around the cramped kitchen, you let his words roll over you, balancing two mugs and a plate in your hands. 

He doesn’t stop speaking, but flashes you a grateful smile as he takes a mug from you, swiping a cookie from the plate before delving back into the topic at hand.

“So, Bradbury, and a lot of the other sci-fi writers of the time, believed that colonisation of Mars would be possible within the 20th century. And then, in 1960, Carl Sagan, along with a bunch of other astronomers, discovered that Mars doesn’t have an atmosphere, so humans living there long term is virtually impossible without a huge improvement in technology, which probably won't happen until the latter half of the 21st century. And this moron with a blog is pretending like Sagan wouldn’t care, and that he would advocate for irresponsible space travel and I hate him.” 

He finishes with a huff, taking a large gulp of tea and sitting up against the couch. His eyes are hazy with exhaustion, eyelids drooping as he looks at you. You can’t help but giggle. He looks adorably dishevelled, and his eyebrows pinching together at your laughter only intensifies it.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“I’m- I’m sorry Spence, you just look really cute right now, like you’re going to fall asleep.” You can barely get it out, body shaking with mirth. His eyebrows furrow further, a slight pout forming on his lips. 

His attempts to get you to stop laughing go unanswered, and he huffs once more, crossing his arms and settling against the couch cushions. 

It’s the late afternoon when a knock on the door stirs you from your reverie. Spencer is sitting next to you, your legs slung over his lap as he leans back, eyes trained on The Fellowship of the Ring on the television as his hands tap out something on your calves. 

“Are you expecting anyone?” He shakes his head no, not averting his gaze from the screen. 

You sigh, jostling his shoulder. 

“Spence. Spence, can you go get the door? It’s probably a salesman or something.” 

He hums, shaking his head once more. 

“Can’t. Too sick.”

You groan, tipping your head back in frustration before hauling yourself off the couch, flicking his shoulder as you walk past.

“You’re infuriating, you know that?” His only response is a grin, before he turns back to the movie. 

Grumbling under your breath, you trudge through the room to the front door, frowning when you look through the peephole to see two figures. 

One is shorter than the other, a woman wearing a hot pink and orange dress that should be garish, but looks completely natural on her. The man next to her is grinning, holding several plastic bags in one hand, the other arm linked with the woman’s. 

Not salesmen. 

Concluding that they’re probably not a threat, you swing the door open, causing their heads to pop up. 

“Hey, Reid- Oh.” The man speaks immediately, but pauses when he sees you. 

“You’re not Reid.” The woman concludes. 

You tilt your head to the side, confused. 

“Yeah, I’m not. Um, how do you know Spencer?” 

They share a confused look.

“We’re his coworkers. Derek and Penelope. Sorry, who are you? Do we have the wrong apartment?” 

You brighten, recognising the names from Spencer’s many stories about work. 

“Oh, that’s who you are! No, you’ve got the right apartment, of course. Come in.” You turn to the side, allowing them to walk in, although their expressions remain bewildered. “I’m Spence’s roommate, Y/N. He’s in the living room.”

“Roommate?” Derek exclaims before setting his sights on Spencer, striding over to him. 

“Hey, pretty boy.” Spencer jolts, the haze of sickness having made sure that he didn’t notice them till now. His voice is higher than normal, squeaky. 

“Morgan! What are you- Garcia? Why- why are you here?” Penelope smiles mischievously, plopping down on the couch next to Spencer. 

“Well, we obviously wanted to check up on you, Boy Wonder. This is the first sick day you’ve taken in the last two years - don’t try to lie to me, I checked - and now, we’re very interested in your friend here.” Her smile loses its teasing edge when she turns to you. 

A grin spreads over your face, recognising the same teasing affection you feel towards him in the two newcomers. Retaking your seat on Spencer’s other side, you pull your feet up on the couch, tucking them under Spencer’s thigh. 

Penelope squeaks quietly, but averts her gaze when you look up at her questioningly. 

“So, you guys have worked with Spence for a while, huh?”

Derek sits in the armchair across from you, chuckling under his breath.

“Since he was 22. Back when he straightened his hair and wore those sweater vests that were three sizes too big.” Spencer lets out a strangled noise of protest next to you, but you both ignore him in favour of continuing your conversation. 

“Seriously? I’ve seen one photo of him back then, but then he started hiding them all from me. You got any?” 

Penelope perks up, pulling out a tablet from her work bag. 

“Yes! Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I have so many. Did you know, he used to do this thing where he would gel his hair back, said it made him look older but it was honestly just really cute, hold on…”

She shifts and moves to sit on your other side, huddling over the tablet with you and Derek. 

Spencer is suddenly left in the lurch, stuck observing the three of you from the other end of the couch. He feels like he should be irritated, angry even, but he can’t do anything but watch, eyes softening. 

“Oh my god, Spencer, you were so cute, what happened?” Never mind, he’s feeling a bit irritated now.

It’s not endearing, no. No matter how lovely you look, your face flushed with excitement. No matter how easily you fit in with some of his favourite people in the world.

It’s not captivating, not at all.

[brawberryz]

I don't want to die

Batfam × negleted Asuka langley!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error/ This story has no relation to my Evangelion AU

You hate this

You hate everything, nothing is ever fair to you

You always tried your best being batgirl but still you couldn't get anyone to tell you how proud they were of you

You were good at fighting and you solved cases in hours but still it seemed like you didn't exist for your family

Your presence was a shadow between the great walls of the mansion, you didn't understand why none of your efforts to get noticed worked

But it's okay, you don't need anyone

You didn't need his approval, you're fine alone because you know very well that no one will protect you or take care of you

But at the same time you didn't want to be alone, you wanted to experience that love that Bruce gave to his other children and which you never felt

Bruce

How you hated that name, he was never a father to you and he never will be, he pretended to be the perfect and exemplary father but deep down he was as broken and rotten as you

You hated him so much, you hated your father and your mother, You hated your brothers and you hated men

Nobody understands you and comprehends you, they pretend to like you but you know that the fake

Richard, claimed to be the eldest brother and that he cared about his brothers but you knew it was a farce, he was as hypocritical and fake as the whole family

He only showed affection to the people who suited him and if you were not useful he just ignored you

You hate him so much, his mere presence makes you nauseous and disgusted

Jason, he was an idiot just like the whole family, since he had revived he was a person full of anger and revenge

In a way you understood him a little, but then you hated him

I believed that just because his life had been miserable it didn't mean that he should make life miserable for others, sometimes you wished that the joker would beat him to death with that crowbar again

Tim, you didn't hate him as much as the others but you still despised him

Since you and he arrived at the mansion You had some kind of rivalry since you two were equally intelligent and you were very competitive children

I never wanted to admit that I was wrong and at some point you were like that too, but having Bruce always put you on his side made your blood boil

Because Bruce seemed so proud of him but with you he treated you as if you were some kind of mistake

Damian, he was the second person you hated the most every time you two saw each other it seemed like you wanted to kill each other

You still remember the first time he arrived at the mansion you weren't so excited you thought he would be another idiot you would have to deal with

You were very surprised when you saw how a katana was heading towards your head, by instinct you dodged it your years as batgirl had favored you for the first time

You didn't remember that fight well, you only knew that if your father and your brothers didn't interrupt that fight you and Damian were going to end up killing each other

But there was something that stayed in your head, when they separated you Damian you and him were equally hurt by their big fight but everyone decided to pay attention to him

Everyone was so worried about him and they had only met him a few hours ago, but you

You had lived in this mansion for more than a decade and they didn't even bother to check on you

The only one who seemed worried was Alfred who carefully tended to your wounds

You could still remember the look of disappointment and anger that your father gave you after that fight

You wanted to cry at that moment and yell at him but you couldn't, you couldn't show yourself weak

It was a simple nonsense that shouldn't affect you, you were never going to show yourself vulnerable or cry again

But deep down, you would have liked to be able to cry

Barbara, you didn't hate her but you didn't like her either, you just tolerated her since at some point she was quite useful in your missions

But you weren't going to lie that at some point you felt jealous of them when she was Batgirl, you saw how Bruce treated her with so much love as if she were a daughter

How he looked at her with pride and cared for her, and you were there looking at her with hatred without knowing why she deserved that love and you didn't

It wasn't fair, she hadn't even tried hard to get Bruce to respect her and you who spent your whole life training and becoming one of the strongest and most skilled members of the batfam he didn't even turn to look at you

Cass, you tolerated her to a certain point your opinion of her was neutral

Sometimes you used to train together but you never talked, you only got together to train or on missions that Bruce asked her to accompany you

Steph, you met her when she was Robin, you got along well at the beginning but when she stopped being Robin you two separated and stopped talking for a while

When she came back she looked so different as if something had changed, you had heard that she went through a lot of things when she left like getting pregnant or something

You just kept quiet and didn't ask her so as not to make her uncomfortable

Your life wasn't the best but you learned to live like that, you got used to this life full of disappointment

Maybe you should just accept this life and wait to die, no one will remember you and the only thing people will remember will be batman's invisible daughter

You will remain as one of Bruce's many mistakes, a mistake he could never fix

_

It was another mission, it was easy you just had to deactivate some bombs that the scarecrow had placed in some buildings, you had done it many times it shouldn't be difficult

And as you sensed it was very easy, there was only one bomb left that was located in a warehouse

You were confident without paying attention to the warning of your father and oracle

You quickly went to the place where the bomb was located, you had deactivated many bombs this one should not be so difficult

But you trusted too much

Oh no

It was a trap, a fucking one

Before you could react the bomb ended up throwing the toxic fear all over the place and you didn't even have time to react

"(NAME)!"

Bruce shouted trying to get you out of there but it was too late

He could see how your body fell to the ground trembling while tears came out of your eyes

He could hear how you screamed in fear and begged for it to stop

"NO! NO PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME REMEMBER, ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

You said between screams while you grabbed your head and curled up further into yourself

Bruce was surprised to see you in that state, he had never seen you so vulnerable and scared

He knew it was the fear gas's fault but he was still surprised, not even when you were little and had come to the mansion you never showed yourself scared or vulnerable

Since you were little you always had that look full of hate and resentment

He quickly went to you to check your condition, he hugged you tightly to prevent you from hurting yourself because of your state

"(Name)!, please react!"

He said trying to make you see reason but all you did was scream in pain and agony

Whatever you were hallucinating was much worse than anything

_

Your head was full of memories of your childhood and that incident

You were supposed to forget it forever but apparently they decided to come back

...

You didn't remember your mother's face, it was a blur between your memories you only remember her tired voice

When you were little you didn't understand why she always seemed so depressed and tired, you were too young to understand the world around you

She was hardly ever home and if she was she was always lying on the couch drinking cheap alcohol

You always asked her what was wrong but she always answered "it's adult things, honey"

In those moments your little self wished you could be an adult and understand everything, to be able to help your mom with whatever she was suffering

But you couldn't, you were a little girl unaware of the world and the problems that surrounded her

You wished your mother had been more present in your life

You knew she had to work for hours and then come back tired, but still...

You still wanted her love

You saw how the other kids at school came to pick them up, how they hugged their parents happily

Hugs

Have you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone hug you, would it feel as warm and comfortable as many say?

You just wanted to experience that, deep down you dreamed that someone would hug you in such a quality and loving way

Then that day came, you could still remember it

You had come home from school as usual, everything seemed normal

Too normal

"Mom, I'm home!"

Screaming at you as you took off your shoes and left your backpack on the table

You found it strange that she didn't answer since she was supposed to stay home today

You walked down the small hallway of the apartment until you reached your mother's door

It was half open and you thought he was asleep, you opened it excitedly but all that joy and excitement disappeared as soon as you saw that horrible scene

"M-mom..."

You said in shock looking at her hanging body, small tears came out of your eyes as you looked at that scene completely paralyzed

You quickly reacted and went to her crying, praying to any god that existed that this wasn't real

But it was real, your mother's skin was as cold as the snow falling outside the apartment

After that it seemed that your memory decided to erase all traces of something you remembered

To a certain extent you could still feel your mother's cold skin between your hands

When you were little you didn't understand why Your mother had done that, but now

Now you understood everything...

_

You woke up in your bed, you heard the soft knock on your door

It was Alfred asking you to go have breakfast

"I'm not hungry Alfred, just leave me alone please..."

You said in a tired tone, it was the same tone your mother had

You curled up further in your bed, the old butler said something you weren't able to hear but you didn't care either

Nothing mattered anymore

So the days went by, you weren't even able to get out of your bed or eat

Even the batfam was surprised not to see you as usual to patrol

Richard decided to check on you and almost fainted when he saw your condition, your room was a mess, full of dirty clothes and other things

It was almost impossible to walk around there, your floor was full of things like books, clothes and other things that he didn't want to know what it was

But the worst was your appearance, you smelled terribly bad and your hair was greasy

He quickly forced you to take a shower, he had to push you into the bathroom since you didn't even deign to answer or get up

After Richard told the rest of the family about your sorry state something inside them turned on, like a protective instinct towards his sister

Now they had to force you to do things as mundane as bathing or eating, since apparently you weren't even capable of doing it by yourself

Each member of the batfam tried to cheer you up in their own way

Jason took you with him to the library while he told you about the new book he was reading, he thought it might be interesting for you but all you did was give him a tired look

Tim made you sit next to him while he worked on his computer, sometimes he asked you if you wanted to help him in some case but you just refused

The old you would have accepted without hesitation but the old you was no longer there

Damian and Cass made you go with them to train with them but you refused, arguing that you were too tired or didn't feel like it

So they just made you sit there while you watched them train since Bruce asked everyone to keep an eye on you

Steph and Barbara tried to cheer you up by making you spend time with them, but nothing worked

You gave them the same empty and tired look you gave everyone

Bruce decided that the best thing was to take you out of school and take you with him to work, since according to him you were in a very delicate and vulnerable state

Besides he could educate you, you didn't need any teacher when you had him, it was much better since you spent all day by his side and he could control you better

Richard tried to get you to bake a cake with him but all you did was look at him tiredly before nodding at his idea

But he still tried to make you happy while you two cooked but nothing could make you feel something

You were like a doll without emotions, you had entered a state where you couldn't even tell what was real and what wasn't

Your body was there but your conscience wasn't

But don't worry, as long as you're next to them you don't have to worry about anything

I'm thinking of updating Goodbye World My soon, there are just a few things left to edit and then I'll upload it

Leaving that aside, I hope you enjoy this!

@strwberryglass

[buckybuckyboo]

Bucky comes home

Word count - 1,459

Warnings: Smut, P in V, unprotected sex.

Summary: Bucky surprises you by coming home in the middle of the night.

_______________________________________________________

Bucky got home from his mission with Steve very very late. He could have stayed at the tower and surprised you in the morning but he couldn't wait. He missed you so much. He quietly made his way into your shared apartment, dropped his bag at the door. He slowly opens the bedroom door letting the hall light creep int the bedroom. He can't help but smile seeing you asleep in bed, covers thrown back. Wearing nothing but panties and one of his Hanley's. Bucky walks in taking his clothes off and climbing onto the bed, leaning over you and kissing your neck. It wakes you slightly making you stretch your neck more giving him more access. "I'm home baby girl, I missed you" He whispers between neck kisses.

"Bucky?" You whisper in your sleepy voice. "Yeah it's me baby. I just got home" Turning yourself around to face him but you didn't feel him slipping your panties off while doing it. He slips himself between your legs, leaning on his elbow as he pushes your hair away from your face. "Are you okay Bucky?" He smiles down at you. "Yeah I'm good baby. Much better now I'm with you" "I missed you so much baby". Bucky leans down kissing you passionately, he pulls away looking into your eyes with help from the dim light from the hall. "Tell me again how much you missed me doll" Smiling up at him, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I missed you so so- OH!". Bucky had pushed himself inside your pussy, he grunts softly feeling your walls hug him tight. Your body jerking as you feel him stretch you out.

"You were saying sweetheart?" He smirks. "I- I missed you" Slowly he drags his cock back and pushes back in slowly. Filling you up again. Your walls clenching around him, pulling him back in. "Please don't stop" He smiles down at you , placing one hand on the back of your head and his metal hand on your hip. He leans in kissing you along your neck and chest. His pace staying slow, he doesn't want to rush this. He wants to remember every feeling of you as he drags moan after moan out of you. Kissing you passionately, swallowing every moan that leaves your mouth. "Fuck Bucky just like that" "I know baby I know. I've got you" He pushes your (his) shirt up taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking, making your back arch off the bed.

He kisses back up to the crook of your neck, his hand on your hip getting a tighter hold. Your hand combs through his hair grabbing a fist full, You feel him bite into your neck, your orgasm coming closer and closer. His movements becoming slopy. He captures your lips with his as his seed spills inside you, feeling his cock twitch inside you. Bucky leans his forehead against yours while panting. You smile and run your fingers through his hair. After a little while of just holding each other, sharing sweet kisses and giggles together. He slips your shirt off and pulls you close to his chest resting his chin on your head. You wrap your arm around him and lazily run your fingers up and down his back. "Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow Buck?" "I have no plans but I think Steve is gonna call over in the morning"

"I've got you all to myself?" "Yep! I'm all yours baby girl" You were so happy to have him home. Weeks of long missions behind him for a while now cause he's back home with you. You never really slept peacefully while he is away. From worrying and from not having his arms around you all night long. But he's home, you are almost afraid to go back to sleep in case he disappears again. Laying back on your pillow and looking into his big blue eyes. Tracing his face with your fingers and running your thumb over his bottom lip then leaning in and kissing him. Feeling his arms wrap around you and pulls you closer the warmth and safety you feel makes you smile. He was home and you wern't letting him go anytime soon. "Go back to sleep doll. I'll be right here" "What if I wake up and you're gone again?" He chuckles softly "I'm not going anywhere, I can promise you that"

Both of you had fallen asleep at some point but early in the morning Bucky heard Steve come into the apartment. He had a spare key and he could come and go as he pleases. He made his way to your bedroom door and knocked gently, "Buck? Are you coming for a run?" At first he hears nothing but then Bucky answers him making Steve open the door a little peeking in. "Are you coming? He whispers. "Uh, I think I'll meet you in the gym later" He whispers back. Steve smiles and leaves for his run. Bucky leans down kissing your neck and then whispering in your ear "So are you gonna do something with it or just hold it?" he smirks.

You had woken slightly hearing the boys whispering. With not much energy in your sleepy state you told bucky to stay by grabbing his cock. Leaning up and capturing his lips with yours pushing him onto his back as you climb on top of him. "You told me, you were all mine" he chuckles softly. "I am sweetheart, I'm right here aren't I?" he gives you that sweet grin that makes you melt. Leaning over and kissing him passionately, moving to his neck and chest. Your hand moving down his body and wrapping his hard leaking cock. Giving it a few strokes before lining it up at your entrance and sinking slowly down on him. His breath hitching in his throat, his eyes falling closed as the pleasure over comes him. Placing his hands on you hips, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin.

Bucky plants his feet into the mattress and slowly starts to push his hips up pushing his cock deeper inside you. His mouth opens slightly as he feels your pussy clench around his cock. His hands move up your body, gently massaging your breasts. He sits up taking your nipple into his mouth. You gently comb your fingers through his long hair. Moving your hips back and forth on his cock feeling it hit that spot deep inside. He looks up aat you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. "So fucking tight and wet baby girl. I missed you so fucking much" he moans into the crook of your neck. "Please Bucky" "What is it baby? What do you need?" "I ne- need you to fuck me hard. Please? I've missed you so much I need to feel you" He places his arm around your lower back and turns you around laying back on the bed.

He wraps your leg around his hip, starting at a slow pace that get's faster and harder. Snapping his hips forward. With each snap of his hips your body bounces up on the bed. He takes his right hand and brings it down your body and uses his thumb to rub on your sensitive nub. He repositions your leg bringing it up over his shoulder and kissing along your leg. "That's it baby girl make a mess all over my cock for me like I know you can" Moving your hips in rhythm with him. "Yes! Harder please!" He places both hands on your hips holding you in place and fucks you hard making you moan uncontrollably. He leans down kissing along your chest and up along your neck. "Make a mess on my cock baby girl. I feel you squeezing me" he whispers in your ear.

It makes you smile and whisper back "Cum with me baby" "Gonna cum so fucking hard baby. You ready?" All you can do is nod. A few more pumps of his hips and you cum all over his cock. He buries his head in the crook of your neck while moaning. His hips still moving but slowly. Both of you riding out your highs. He leans his fore head against yours and smiles. "Have I told you how much I've missed you?" "Hmm I'm not sure" making you both giggle. Bucky wraps his arms around you while laying back on the bed pulling you onto his chest. His hands lazily run up and down your back. "Do you have to meet Steve in the gym?" you ask in a sleepy voice. Bucky chuckles and kisses the top of your head. "I don't have to be anywhere but here baby girl"

[acmeangel]

♡ Levi visits your tea shop, and over time, your relationship turns from strangers to having your own little family. But, will the war tear him away from you?...

♡ NSFW, minors DNI ♡ Canon!Levi x Female!Reader ♡ Also features Postwar!Levi ♡ One shot, a mix of fluffy & angsty ♡ Word count: 8,061 ♡ Summary: Levi had been visiting your tea shop for a while, and while he didn't say much, your young son idolized Humanity's Strongest Soldier. You were a single mom, a widow, and it made your happy to see your son so excited. Over time, Levi began to talk to you more and more, until a romance sparked. He'd grown to love you and your son, but after marriage and another baby, the situation within Eldia grows darker, the Rumbling on the horizon. During the chaos, you don't know where Levi has gone -- will you two ever reunite?

Levi had always been quiet when he stopped by your tea shop in Trost. It wasn't often that he paid a visit — his focus was usually fused to the Survey Corps — but he couldn't resist the specific blend of black tea leaves that your shop carried. He'd muttered dryly before that yours was the only cup of black tea that didn't "taste like it'd been diluted in sewer water."

His visits had become predictable. He’d slip into the shop with soundless steps, order his tea with the fewest amount of words possible, toss some coins onto the counter (always including a tip), then sit at a table by the window and sip his tea, his gaze drawn to some far-off distance outside. When he'd leave, he'd always bring his tea cup back to the counter with a dull clink and leave his table as clean as it was when he'd arrived, the chair pushed into it. And that would be that.

You never disturbed his quiet — you figured that with him being a Captain in the Survey Corps, surely he'd come to your shop craving a scarce brief moment of peace and solace.

Your small, six-year-old son, however, had taken on his dad's exuberant and excitable nature, rather than your reserved one. It was one of the things you adored most about your son; it felt, to you, like the spirit of your late husband had planted a little seed within your son, like a small blossom that was finally beginning to bloom.

The way your son laughed with his head thrown back and eyes shut, the way his eyes widened and sparkled when he'd ramble on about whatever new hobby he was interested in (much like his father, he could never settle on just one thing), the way his small hands would fly through the air when he spoke — it was all him, your first and only true love.

It was four years ago, now, that your husband had passed unexpectedly. Your son was only two years old at the time, and as the years went on, you could tell that he was remembering less and less about his father. The weight on your shoulders grew heavier as it felt like it was up to you, solely, to keep his memory alive and treasured.

Even though you were still young, you’d sworn yourself to a life devoid of romantic love. You couldn’t fathom ever falling for someone new; nor could you imagine someone else ever understanding you or loving you the way that he had. A life of just you and your son, together, was all you’d ever need.

So, when Levi would stop by your tea shop, your son would act just as lively and uninhibited as your husband would have.

"Mommy, mommy." His little, pudgy hand would tug on the sleeve of your shirt as he looked up at you with big saucers for eyes. "It's Humanity's Strongest Soldier. He's back, he's back!"

"I know, darling," you'd coo, your hand stroking your son's hair to try and calm him as Levi walked through the door. "Be polite. Don't disturb him."

Trying to wrangle your son's enthusiasm always proved impossible. He’d climb up onto the counter — which you'd told him countless times not to do — so that he could get a better view of the fearless Captain.

"Captain Levi." He'd smile widely, revealing missing front teeth, as he beamed at Levi. "Did you just come back from a mission? What was it? How many Titans did you kill?"

Levi would always frown at this — not because he didn't like your son, but because he didn't like being idolized for being violent. His life was one he wouldn't wish upon anyone, and he didn't want the kids in town to look up to him, or anyone else in the Scouts.

"Hey." You'd shoot your son a stern look. "Enough questions, don't be rude."

"Don't worry about it," Levi would say, dryly, his tired eyes drifting from your son back to you. "Black tea. The usual kind."

"Sure." You'd nod and smile softly, your eyes catching his for a brief, but lingering moment, stuck in their depths — those eyes that always reminded you of the night sky during a storm, swirling and tumultuous.

You'd make Levi his tea and hand it to him, which would earn the faintest "Thanks, Y/N" before he'd take his seat by the window. Occasionally, your son would sneak over to him and ask him question after question, his small hands gripped onto the edge of the table, until you'd notice and lift him up, carrying him away with an apologetic look toward Levi.

Once Levi would leave, your son would blabber to you for the next day or so about how "strong" and "brave" Levi is, to which you'd nod along, appeasing him, your lips tugging into a smile now and then, happy to see your son so excited.

That was how Levi's visits to your shop had always gone, for months on end; it was a predictable routine.

That was, until one day, as he was ordering his usual black tea, you'd interrupted him. Usually, you’d be too busy trying to reign in your son to really talk to Levi, but Levi had visited earlier than usual that day, and your son was still at school. 

"I actually just got a shipment of a new tea," you'd said, your eyes meeting his, a flicker of curiosity in your gaze. "It's rooibos tea. Similar to black tea. You might like it?"

A crease formed between his brow as he studied your face for a moment, taken aback by both your offering and your consideration of his tastes.

"Fine," he nodded, curtly. "I'll try it."

Your lips turned upward with slight surprise before forming a full smile, as you began brewing his tea. You handed it to him moments later, in an ornate ceramic teacup painted with simple lines and wavy vines, which he grabbed from you by the rim. 

He took a sip from it while still standing at the counter, not waiting to sit down, as if wanting to test it before committing the next half-hour or so to sipping it. As he took his long, slow sip, his eyes didn’t leave your face once, his narrowed, somewhat unenthused gaze piercing into you. 

“It’s good,” he said, finally, lowering the cup from his lips. “Thanks, Y/N.” He fished around his pocket for a few coins, which he placed down on the counter as always. 

He turned away to head for his table by the window, but paused for a moment, his lips pressing together slightly as he examined the teacup more closely. 

“Where’d you get this set?” he asked, the tone of his voice revealing nothing, as he turned to face you again.

“Oh,” you tilted your head as you tried to remember, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t remember exactly, but most of the tea sets are from a shop just down the street.”

“Hm.” He nodded slowly, his eyes still fixated on the teacup, his fingers gently tracing over the designs. “It just reminds me of one from when I was a kid.”

With that, he shook his head as if ridding his mind of the memory, and made his way to sit at the table, his head turned out the window. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, noticing the way his fingers tapped the rim of the teacup, how the afternoon light settled onto his face, making his pale complexion look warmer, more amiable. A silence settled into the tea shop, only interrupted by the occasional bubbling of boiling water and the clanging of teapots and cups. 

“It was my mother’s tea set,” he stated, plainly, seemingly out of nowhere. The sound of his voice drew your attention, but when you looked over at him, he was still staring out the window; only the curve of his cheek and the angle of his jawline were visible to you.

You approached him, slowly, lingering by the table, your hands clasped behind your back. 

“Your mother?” you inquired, your tone gentle and inviting, as you moved a bit closer. “Are you close with her, then?” 

“No,” his voice dropped low, scarcely above a whisper. “She’s dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you offered, which earned only a subtle nod from Levi. You paused for a beat before continuing. “It seems like your mother and my husband have similar tastes. He’s the one who picked that set out. He liked the vines.” 

His head turned toward you, a raise to his eyebrow as he looked up at you, warily. “Husband, huh? What, he doesn’t help you out around here?”

“He used to,” you sighed softly, before adding, “he passed a few years ago.”

His eyes flickered with a brief awareness before meeting your gaze, a look of mutual understanding passing between you two. 

“Sorry to hear that,” he said, echoing your sentiment. 

“Thanks,” you said, and decided to sit down in the chair across from him at the table. “That’s actually the last teacup still fully intact from that set. I dropped the box it was in during a move a couple years ago.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He glanced down at the teacup, turning it in his hand. 

“Mmm.” You nodded. “But, have you heard of this concept called kintsugi?” 

He shook his head, bringing his eyes back up to yours, waiting for you to explain.

“It’s this art form,” you began, “where you take broken pottery or ceramics and repair them by putting the pieces back together using gold lacquer. So you can still tell that the item is broken, and it doesn’t look the same as it originally did, but it doesn’t matter. Because now, it’s this new, exquisite golden thing, even though its brokenness is obvious. Anyway, that’s how I repaired the other pieces from the set.”

You nodded toward a shelf behind the counter, which held the rest of the tea set; teacups and a teapot, repaired with gold shimmering in the cracks between all of the broken pieces. 

“Hm,” he nodded slowly with approval, the sides of his mouth slowly moving upward into a small smile.   

Your relationship with Levi had truly started there — with a shared understanding of loss, brokenness, and grief. Each time he visited your tea shop, which had become more frequent, he’d share a little bit more about himself and his past. It usually wasn’t much, and you’d often have to fill in the blanks and read between the lines, but you could tell that he actually trusted you with this information and, at least, felt assured that you’d understand him. 

Over time, the conversations would last a little bit longer and expand into topics outside of your shared losses; you’d tell him about your son, stories about interesting customers who had stopped by, memories about your childhood and your family. He’d share, too, usually anecdotes about his life in the Survey Corps, telling you about the “brats” he spent his days with, griping about their individual personalities with a fond sort of annoyance. 

The romantic aspect of your relationship trickled in slowly — it began with the time Levi had reached across the table and placed his hand onto yours without a word or a change in his expression. And from there, it evolved into these subdued touches here and there; a hand on the small of your back, him fixing an out-of-place strand of hair when you’d wear it pulled back, his leg brushing against yours under the table and not pulling away. 

The first time he’d kissed you, he’d been staring at your lips for almost the entire time you had been talking that day, as if magnetized to them. 

“Levi,” you’d said, finally, a slight exasperation in your voice. “Either stop staring at my lips or do something about it.”

His expression faltered and an actual blush rose to his cheeks, as if he didn’t realize you’d actually be able to notice his staring. But, it was just the push he needed, because he then leaned over the table, cupped his hand onto the side of your face, and planted a soft, but firm, kiss onto your lips. 

“Is that what you had in mind?” he asked, pulling back slightly, his lips still almost touching yours as he searched your eyes. 

“Yes,” you whispered, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his once again. That kiss was all it took; from there, you were in. And he was, too. 

As your relationship continued to flourish, he’d started visiting you at home, not just at the tea shop. He’d sit with you on your couch, running his fingers through your hair as the two of you caught up with each other. He’d help you out with all of the tasks that he knew were a burden on your shoulders with all you juggled, between raising your son and running the tea shop. He’d even started to warm up to your son and made an effort to talk to him, albeit somewhat awkwardly at first. Your son, however, didn’t notice any discomfort from Levi — he was just thrilled to have Humanity’s Strongest Soldier in his house. 

When Levi had actually gone with you and your son to visit your husband’s grave on his birthday — a supportive, nonintrusive gesture — and had placed a simple bundle of flowers on his gravestone, you knew that there was something different about him. Something worth keeping around in your life for a long time. He understood you and all of the complexities and brokenness that came with you; he had his fair share of his own. You realized that, together, maybe you could become whole again. 

Levi was nothing like how your husband was; and, in turn, the love you experienced with him was completely different. It was slower, softer, subtler. It was exactly what you didn't realize you'd needed — something tender and gentle to begin mending your once-broken heart. Levi, without even trying, had put the pieces of you back together in a way that was completely new. You'd been changed forever, and for once, it didn't feel like such a bad thing.

So, when he asked you to marry him, he did it in a way that was just as soft and subtle. You were sitting on the floor of your living room — a humble, but cozy space — playing with your son, who always had a way of coming up with the most elaborate pretend plots.

Levi followed along the best he could, occasionally asking a clarifying question to your son, his brows pressed together in serious contemplation. Your son would provide an equally as serious answer, explaining, in depth, the inner workings and rules of his pretend world.

During a moment of quiet, while your son rummaged around a chest for different toys to play with, Levi had simply looked at you, his usual armor cracking to reveal an honest vulnerability, and said, "I could get used to a life like this. With you. Both of you."

Your lips curved up into a smile and you tilted your head, your expression melting at his words. "I think that can be arranged."

"Think you'd consider marrying someone like me, Y/N?" The corners of his lips twitched, the smallest, self-deprecating smile on his face.

"Yes," you'd said, quickly, without even having to think about it. It was one of the easiest decisions of your life. "I won't just consider it. I'll do it. Happily."

Your son interrupted the tender moment, handing new toys to you and Levi, explaining the new, complicated rules of the next game you were about to play together. Levi listened intently, but his gaze caught yours for a moment, a knowing, affectionate glance exchanged between the two of you.

Your wedding was a simple one. You knew that Levi didn't care much for having a ceremony at all to begin with — if it were entirely up to him, you'd have forgone the whole ordeal. But, for you, he was willing to do just about anything (though he drew the line at dancing).

Between your collective eagerness to get married and Levi's unpredictable and hectic life with the Scouts, you didn't spend too much time or energy planning the wedding; fussing over the details and frills didn't matter much to either of you, as long as you got to be together by the end of it.

You'd invited only your closest family and friends, and kept the ceremony brief, exchanging simple vows. The only thing you'd cared about was the look on Levi's face when he saw you, in your simple, elegant white dress, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, walking down the aisle toward him; he smiled a soft smile, his jaw clenching with emotion, his eyes focused on you with such intense reverence, it was as if nothing in the universe existed apart from you.

For most of the reception, Levi had sat at your table, observing as you laughed and talked with all of the guests; he was content just from seeing you glowing with happiness.

You'd convinced him, halfway through the night, to dance with you to a slower song; begrudgingly, and unable to say no to you, he obliged. You could sense the discomfort on his face as his eyes darted around the room as the two of you swayed to the music, feeling the eyes of the guests burning into him.

"Levi," you whispered, low enough so only he could hear. "Close your eyes. Pretend it's just you and me."

He nodded, and closed his eyes, his head resting onto your shoulder as his movements became smoother, more fluid. He sighed softly, holding you close, lost in your touch.

By the end of the night, your son had crashed after eating too much cake; he was curled up, asleep, with one of his grandparents. Fortunately for you and Levi, they'd offered to watch your son for the night to give you and Levi the alone time you'd so desperately been wanting.

You and Levi were sitting at your table, watching your guests move around the dance floor, your head rested on his shoulder while you absently scraped the frosting off of your plate.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Levi asked you, his lips pressed to your hair, with the slight raise of an eyebrow. "Don't think anyone will miss us too much. They're having too good of a time without us."

You giggled, rolling your eyes affectionately. "I knew you'd want to leave early," you whispered softly, knowingly. "But lucky for you, so do I."

Levi practically whisked you away the moment you finished your sentence. By the time you'd returned to your house, you were cradled into his arms as he kicked open your bedroom door, the room shrouded in the ethereal glow of moonlight.

"Levi," you laughed, as he hastily moved toward the bed, gently laying you down onto it, "slow down, relax."

"I can't," he replied, as he stood next to the bed, looking down at you, in awe at the sight of you in your wedding dress, your hair cascaded onto the bed below you, your delicate face becoming angelic in the pale purple moonlight. You were officially his forever. He released a quiet, adoring sigh as your hand trailed up his forearm, pulling him down onto you. His body settled onto yours, fitting together perfectly, his eyes taking in every inch of your face before his head dipped to the crook of your neck.

"Hey," he whispered, his lips brushing up your neck to your ear, his hands moving up your thighs under your dress, his touch worshipping your skin. "I didn't want to say my real vows in front of everyone. They didn't need to hear that. It's just for you. So, Y/N, here's what I promise you. I promise that I will love you until my last breath, and I'll protect you, no matter what it takes. Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I'm alive. I promise to always come back to you, no matter where duty takes me. I promise to love your son as if he were my own. You're it, Y/N. You're the light in my darkness, the only thing I'm sure of, the reason I've even still got a heart left at all. Don't ever forget that."

Your throat constricted as he spoke, trapping all of the words you wanted to say back to him, your mind lost between his loving whispers and the feel of his hands pressing against your skin.

"Levi," you managed to whisper, the word coming out as a shallow, wanting breath.

His lips pressed onto your neck, kissing and nipping at your tender, sensitive skin.

"You don't need to say anything," he whispered, low and husky, the words muffled against your neck. "Just be with me."

It was all he ever asked for, really — these moments alone with you. And because they happened more seldom than he'd wanted, he savored every second. He’d committed every detail of you to his memory, etched into his mind permanently: the individual flecks of colors in your eyes, the varying sounds and tones of your voice, each and every one of your idiosyncrasies and mannerisms.

His hands moved further up your thighs, his thumbs tracing over the scalloped edges of your soft lace panties. Your breath hitched, your hips instinctively pushing upward into his touch. His hands slid away, not quite to tease you, but because he was in no rush.

He lifted his head from your neck to look at you, his gaze attentive as it moved from your eyes to the curve of your cheek, to your lips and down the slope of your neck and shoulder. His hands moved out from under your dress to your shoulders, slowly pulling down the sleeves of your wedding dress.

"I love you," you whispered — you couldn't help it. You'd have said it a thousand times in that one moment, if you could've.

His hands paused their movements for a moment, his eyes crawling back up to yours, all of the tension in his face completely released.

"I love you too, Y/N," he whispered back, his voice barely audible over the sound of your beating hearts, as his lips lowered down onto yours.

He kissed you like he needed you as much as he needed air to breathe. His lips molded perfectly to yours, his teeth gently tugging onto your bottom lip before diving in deeper, his tongue sweeping out to taste yours.

His hands continued sliding off your dress, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he did, leaving sparks in their wake; once the dress fell softly to the floor by the bed, his hands worked their way across every inch of your body, showering attention onto every curve.

His kiss became hungrier, strands of his hair brushing against your forehead as a groan formed in the back of his throat.

Your hands rose to his shoulders, pushing off the jacket of his tuxedo before working to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the side. Your hands traced over his muscles as they moved and flexed; your fingers affectionately grazed over the familiar scars and bruises that decorated his body.

A subtle gasp fell from his lips, captured by yours, as his hands trailed down your waist to your hips, once again resting on the soft fabric of your panties.

"God," he murmured, breaking the kiss for a brief moment, just to tilt his head down and look at your body beneath his, "you're so fucking beautiful."

His fingers tugged at the hem of your panties before sliding them underneath, between your folds, feeling the warmth and wetness that met him there.

Your head tilted back slightly and you bit your lower lip, breathing out sharply from your nose. His eyes snapped back up to your face as his fingers began to tease your slit, running up and down it before circling your clit with a gentle pressure.

You gasped softly, a low moan building within you, your eyes shutting with pleasure. You weren't sure how he did it, but even the simplest touch from him made you fall apart.

"Good," he whispered, reveling in how eagerly you responded to his touch. He increased his pressure on your nub, his thumb circling it as two of his fingers slipped inside of you with ease, earning a loud whimper from you.

His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling up against your most sensitive spot, his thumb remaining pressed against your clit as he coaxed pleasured moans from you. As your thighs began to shake, a familiar spark building up within your core, his free hand grasped onto your hip, steadying you, as he increased the pace and intensity of his fingers.

Your hands reached out, grasping for his shoulders as your body began to tense, the release building intensely within you, on the verge of exploding.

"Come undone for me," he whispered, his fingers pumping into you with untethered force, your juices coating and squelching against his hand. And you did — your walls clenched around his fingers as you poured out pleasure. Your back arched upward, your legs shook uncontrollably, and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you cried out, a ragged, gasping whimper, too strained with pleasure to make a real sound.

His fingers remained buried within you as you rode through the waves of release, only pulling out of you once your back settled back onto the bed. Before you could open your mouth to say a word, his hands had already pulled his own pants off, his hardened length springing free, pretty and pink.

"C'mere," he muttered, his hands sliding under your waist to gently pull you upright. He hoisted you onto his lap, your bare chest pressed to his, the warmth of your skin emanating into each other. His hands crawled up your back then gently around your neck, his thumb rubbing gently across your throat, then up to your lips.

"Levi," you whispered, muffled under the pressure of his thumb, your eyes locking onto his, strands of your hair stuck to your forehead with sweat. "Show me how much you love me. As your wife."

"My wife," he echoed, as if the words were the most decadent thing that had ever been on his tongue. His hands moved down to grip onto your hips, bringing your legs around him as you sat in his lap.

He lifted your hips up, pausing for a moment to meet your gaze before slowly lowering you down onto his cock, a soft groan parting his lips.

Your head tilted to the side as he filled you up, stretching out your walls completely. His head dipped to your chest, kissing your skin as he began to thrust, slowly and sensually, your hips moving in perfect harmony with his.

His fingers sprawled across your hips as he guided your motions as you rode him, his tongue and lips devouring your skin, moving between your nipples, sucking and tugging on them. Your hands gripped into his hair, causing him to growl faintly.

His eyes closed and he panted softly as he pushed your hips down onto his with increasing intensity, your clit pressing down onto his skin with each thrust, causing you to moan and writhe against him.

"Fuck," he panted, his grip on your hips tightening as he picked up the pace, practically slamming your hips down onto him, the muscles in his arms tense and rippling.

"L-Levi, I'm- I'm," you moaned, swallowing as your body began to reach its second climax, still sensitive from the first one, your hands slipping from his hair to wrap tightly around his back as your legs began to shake again.

He groaned, a low, primal sound, as he held your hips in place and pounded up into you with unrelenting movements, sending you spiraling over the edge. Your head collapsed into his neck, your moans and cries quieted against his skin, your teeth grazing his skin.

"Y/N," he moaned, a strained sound as he thrust into you one final time, his knuckles turning white as they held onto your hips, as he poured out deep inside of you.

He collapsed back onto the bed, bringing you gently down with him. One of his hands cradled the back of your head as you rested it on his chest, the other tracing patterns across your back, his touch soothing.

"My wife," he murmured, satisfied, his chest heaving with exertion and his body glimmering with little beads of sweat that looked like stars under the moonlight.

For the following year, that was how you'd spent most of your nights with Levi, when he had the chance to come see you between missions and duties.

He'd spend the first part of evenings with you and your son, listening intently to whatever new hobby or interest your son wanted to talk about, and playing with him on the living room floor or out in the yard. Levi would lean against the doorway as you'd tuck your son into bed, listening in with a tender expression as you read a bedtime story.

It didn't take long for your son to grow attached to Levi, and not just as Humanity's Strongest Soldier. The first time he'd asked Levi to read his bedtime story instead of you, Levi had stood frozen for a moment, blinking as he processed the question.

He'd cleared his throat slightly and nodded, his movements a little stiff as he pushed off the doorway and took the storybook from you, sitting down on the edge of your son's bed. He'd studied the page of the book for a moment before beginning to read, your son's eyes watching him with wonder and adoration. As Levi continued reading, he became more relaxed, the crease between his brow fading away, the words flowing more smoothly.

About halfway through the story, your son had drifted asleep, the sign of a job well done. Levi's lips curved into a small smile, and he nodded, contentedly. From then on, your son requested bedtime stories from Levi every time he visited.

And after your son was fast asleep each night, Levi would wrap his arm around your waist and pull you to your bedroom to show you just how much he loved his wife.

It wasn't much of a surprise, really, when you'd found out you were pregnant shortly after. When you'd told Levi during his next visit, you weren't sure how he'd react — he was away often and you hadn't exactly planned for a baby yet. You also knew that he'd had a troubled childhood and had never had a real father figure; he never seemed sure that he was doing the right thing when it came to your son. The danger and uncertainty of the world around you and his position as Captain only added to his inner doubts about whether he'd make a capable father or be any good, or worthy, at being a proper role model for anyone, let alone a child.

But as he'd spent more and more time with your son, he'd grown used to the idea of having a kid around — and actually even it. As he became more comfortable in his role in your son's life, he'd begun telling your son more stories about his life, trying to guide him and teach him lessons to keep him on the right track (and prevent him from a life of fighting and violence).

So, when you told him that you were pregnant, it was like you saw a spark of life ignite within his eyes as he scooped you up into his arms and buried his face into your neck. He didn't have to say it — he was happy.

Throughout your pregnancy, Levi tried to visit you more often to take care of you; he hated the thought of you doing absolutely anything alone while you were carrying your baby. When he was around, he barely let you so much as stand on your own.

He'd handle all the caretaking when it came to your son, he'd deep clean your house so you wouldn't have to worry about it, and he'd bring you endless cups of tea. He'd forced you to hire someone else to take over your tea shop temporarily, practically begging you when it came down to it, insisting that standing on your feet all day wasn't good for you or the baby.

After nine months of Levi sternly doting on you, your baby finally arrived. Levi made sure that he didn't miss this moment, shirking his duties and obligations for the first time since you'd known him.

"If they can't function without me for a day, those brats are more pathetic than I thought," he'd grumbled as he held your hand while you laid on the bed, after you'd asked him for the hundredth time if it was okay for him to be there, sweat sticking to your skin after coming down from your latest contraction.

"Now stop asking," he'd added, "None of that is important. This is all that matters." He squeezed your hand, reassuringly.

When the baby finally came, and the doctor announced that it was a little girl, Levi's shoulders tensed slightly, as if he hadn't considered the possibility of having a daughter. When the doctor wrapped her into a tiny bundle and handed her to Levi, he took her into his arms with a hold so hesitant and delicate, like he thought he might break her if he held on even a little bit too tight.

"Oh," he whispered, his eyes darting all over her face, taking in her pouty lips, scrunched nose, full cheeks, and barely-opened blue-gray eyes. His jaw clenched and unclenched over and over, the vein in his forehead becoming visible as his eyes welled with tears. He blinked repeatedly, causing the tears to stream down his face.

"What the hell?" he whispered, a subtle tone of disbelief in his voice as he glanced down at you, blinking repeatedly, seemingly bewildered by the tears on his cheeks. "Is this normal?"

You laughed affectionately, nodding gently. "Yes, Levi. It's normal."

"Ah," he nodded, swallowing, his misty eyes returning down to his baby daughter, fixating on her little face so intensely, you weren't sure if he was ever going to look away again. His hand, with the slowest movement possible, reached up to her face, his finger brushing against her soft, delicate cheek. You were sure in that moment that nothing, nothing would ever come between Levi and his baby girl.

The first year after your daughter was born were as blissful as they could have been. Levi had continued making sure to spend more time away from the Scouts, as much as he possibly could, to be with you, your son, and his brand new baby girl.

When Levi couldn’t be around, you weren’t entirely alone to take care of the baby. Your son, who now claimed to be grown up at the age of seven, claimed that he was the “second in command” man of the house. He’d mimic Levi in the way he walked around the house, the specific way he would hold his little sister, and even in the way he’d hold a bottle or spoon while feeding her. Most recently, your son had even insisted on getting the same haircut as Levi (though he hadn’t yet gotten used to having strands of hair falling in front of his eyes).

And when Levi was there, he’d practically never let his daughter out of his grasp. At every meal, he’d prop her onto his lap and feed her little bites of food that she could eat (he figured it had to taste better than the baby food he called “mushed crap”). When he’d unwind on the couch with a cup of tea or a book, he’d have her held to his shoulder, her little head tucked against his neck. Overnight, when she’d cry, he’d always jump out of bed first to go tend to her — and he’d stay with her long after she was settled back to sleep, simply holding her or watching over her crib. He’d even willingly handle her most rancid of diapers — he claimed that he’d spent so much time around horse shit and Titan carnage that it didn’t bother him, and his need for cleanliness always left her perfectly spotless and cared for.

Even with his overprotective, doting behavior with his daughter, it was never like he neglected you or your son when he was around. When the baby would be napping, or when you’d finally take her for a change, he’d spend every other moment either sitting by you and holding your hand, or playing with your son.

Your little family had just fallen into this quasi-routine when Levi’s visits started to become more infrequent — the situation within the Survey Corps had grown more dire, and though Levi spared you of the details to not worry you, you knew that something terrible was waiting on the horizon. He’d become a bit more tense and distant with each of his visits, though you could tell he was trying to suppress it for the sake of you and the children. 

Eventually, once it had been weeks since Levi had last visited, you began to worry, bordering on panic. You’d tried to calm yourself, reminding yourself that Levi was busy and that his missions were unpredictable — you’d tell yourself that he was likely just on a mission that was taking longer than usual. 

When your son would ask you when Levi was coming home next, or your toddler daughter would babble about wanting “Dada,” you’d field their questions with reassuring platitudes about Levi’s importance as Captain and his strength and resilience. But as the weeks continued to stretch on without so much as a letter from Levi, there was nothing you could say anymore to soothe their worries or yours. 

You’d tuck each of the children into bed at night, soothing them to sleep with gentle words, promising them that Levi would surely be home soon, even though you knew that your son, at least, was beginning to not believe you. Your daughter was easier to manage in terms of worries, but you feared that if Levi stayed away too long, she’d begin to forget him. 

Once the children were safe and sound in bed, you’d stay awake, standing at your bedroom window, staring into the night as if you would bring Levi back to your doorstep with sheer need and willpower. But, he never returned. When the thought that Levi might actually be dead entered your mind, you pushed it away immediately; you couldn’t bear to think that way for even a second, let alone say the words out loud. You knew that Levi’s work was dangerous, and you knew that ever since Marley came into the picture, things for him had become more complicated and precarious than ever. You knew about what Eren had done to Marley, and you knew about the Jaegerists, and you knew that Levi was mixed up in all of it. Still, you refused to acknowledge that something deadly could really have happened to him. 

As the weeks stretched into months, you’d forced yourself to maintain a calm face and strong exterior for the sake of the children. They’d both crawl up into your lap each night, looking up at you, as if your eyes would reveal answers as to where Levi had gone and why he wasn’t coming back. 

You’d look down into the big, sparkling eyes of your children, a look that both warmed and broke your heart; you saw both of your loves, your first and Levi, looking back up at you.

You thought to yourself, as your heart shattered in your chest, Is this my life? Destined to carry the hearts and spirits of people I love, without ever getting to truly be with them?

When The Rumbling began, you couldn’t believe that it was actually happening — that all of humanity, aside from Eldia, could be wiped out, the world flattened. You tried your best to steel yourself from the fear and devastation that coursed through your veins and consumed your every thought, trying to protect the children from the cruel reality and danger that loomed outside. You’d forced them to stay inside the house with you the entire time, and you held them close, trying to distract them in any way that you could, while your mind drifted to thoughts of Levi.

You knew that if Levi was out there, somewhere, he’d surely be in the frontlines of this impossible battle to stop The Rumbling; you knew that he was in grave danger, more than ever before, more than you’d ever thought was possible. The situation was grim and futile, but you knew that Levi wasn’t one to give up or back down — he’d lost too many comrades, seen too many sacrifices to quit at the final moment and let all of their deaths have been in vain. You knew he’d sacrifice his own life if it came down to it, and that thought terrified you more than anything else. 

When The Rumbling had eventually ended, it wasn’t clear what, exactly, had happened — you’d heard too many conflicting rumors and theories about who was there and who had survived, that you didn’t want to believe anything too quickly. As Eldia, hesitantly, became safe again, you waited, still, for Levi to come home, but he still hadn’t. You forced yourself to continue being patient, to not give up hope; most of the other Scouts still hadn’t returned yet, you reminded yourself. 

As the weeks continued to pass, Eldia began to return, bit by bit, to a state resembling normalcy; far from recovered, but relieved that the war was finally, officially over. 

“Does this mean Levi is coming home now?” your son had asked you, his eyes filling with hope, a smile daring to form on his face. 

You swallowed, hard, trying to maintain composure. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” you admitted, bringing your son into a tight hug. “I hope so. We’ll see, okay?”

Weeks later, when there was a knock at your door and you opened it to reveal a man you’d never seen before, wearing a plain black suit, you weren’t sure what to expect. You cracked the door open, just barely, as your kids scurried up behind you to see who was there, your son hovering behind you and your toddler clinging onto your leg. 

“Uh, hi,” you greeted him, a look of uncertainty on your face. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Y/N, right?” he asked, his voice soft and kind as he double-checked the address of your house and glanced down at the children hiding behind you. “I’m Onyankopon. I’m a pilot, and I’ve been helping out with the Scouts for a while.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of the Scouts, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared yourself for anything — good news or bad. 

“Yes,” you answered hastily, “I’m Y/N. Is it Levi? What happened? Is he okay?”

Onyankopon held his hands up, palms facing you in a soothing gesture. “Levi’s fine. He’s alive, Y/N.”

You gasped, your hand flying up to your mouth in shock as your body began to tremble slightly, unable to process the emotions that swirled through your mind and the intense relief that threatened to pour from your eyes. 

“He- He’s alive? L-Levi’s okay? Really?” you asked, your voice struggling to get the words out, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Where is he?” your son asked, urgently, his head poking forward to look up at Onyankopon. 

“He’s in Marley,” Onyankopon said slowly and calmly, trying not to overload you with information. “That’s why I’m here, actually. He sent me here to come and get you. He…,” he paused for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal, “needed my help with it.”

You didn’t waste any time; the prospect of seeing Levi again, finally, after all the time and uncertainty, was enough to set you into motion immediately. You gathered the few belongings that you and your kids needed, and you were out the door immediately, hurriedly following behind Onyankopon. 

A short journey later, you’d arrived in Marley — you were too focused on the thought of Levi to gawk and stare at the unfamiliar sights of the city that normally would’ve left you awestruck, even through the destruction and rubble surrounding you. Your gaze remained intently fixated on Onyankopon as he guided you through the hectic streets, before you approached a somewhat damaged building. Onyankopon led you down the winding hallways, before opening the doors to one of the rooms and stepping aside, revealing Levi inside, his back turned to the door. 

“Levi,” Onyankopon said, “we’re here.” 

Levi’s head snapped around, and your eyes widened as you saw the state of him, wondering what injuries he had endured — the wheelchair, his glazed-over white eye, the fresh scars on his face, the missing fingers — but you didn’t care. He was there, he was alive, he didn’t seem to be in any pain, and he was just as beautiful as you’d remembered him. Nothing else mattered in that moment; everything else could wait until later. 

Before you could manage to get a word out, or shake off the shock of seeing him, your son ran over to him first, propelled by urgent eagerness and relief. 

“I missed you, Dad,” your son said, his eyes shutting as he wrapped his arms around Levi — it was the first time he’d ever referred to Levi as ‘Dad.’ Levi’s eyes snapped up to you, misty and glistening, his throat tightening slightly. You nodded, a tender, encouraging motion as you walked over with your daughter in your arms, your heart swelling with warmth and affection. 

“I missed you too, son,” Levi said, his voice rough with feeling as he returned your son’s hug, his arms trembling faintly, his hand ruffling his hair. As your son released Levi, Levi kept an arm on his back, a subtle, reassuring touch. 

Your daughter extended her arms out to Levi as you got closer, babbling, as you set her down into Levi’s lap. Her tiny hands gripped onto his shirt and she looked up at him, smiling and giggling.  

“She’s not… scared… to see me like this,” he whispered with disbelief, his expression softening even further as he gazed into his daughter’s eyes, seeing nothing but love and affection looking back at him. 

As your daughter nuzzled her head into his neck, as she always did, you knelt down next to him, your lips and hands trembling slightly as you took a long, close look at him. 

“Levi,” you choked out, your hands rising to his face, cradling it gently, your fingers gently resting on his new scars. Your eyes locked into each other, filled with unspoken emotion and relief. 

“Y/N,” he echoed, his head tilting into your touch, his brows twitching involuntarily as he became overwhelmed at the sight of you and the feeling of your soft, warm hands touching him. Your thumbs swept under his eyes, absorbing the few tears that had broken free from his eyes. 

You leaned in and kissed him softly and gently, your lips returning to where they were meant to be — against his. He released a shuddering breath that melted against your lips, the fear and worry that had consumed you both for so long dissipating into the air. 

“Thank God you’re all alright,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, his voice fraught with emotion as he extended his arms out and pulled the three of you close to him. “My family.”

As you buried your face into Levi’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin at last, your mind, inexplicably, went to the broken tea set on the shelf in your tea shop — the tea set that had ignited your entire relationship with Levi, all that time ago. You thought of it as you looked at your family; broken, yes, but healing and more beautiful than ever before. 

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN!

Requested by @alebrasil0101

taglist: @leviykwim @wittyjasontodd (message to be added!)

[alexrosa13]

Valentine's Favourites

Sylus x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warning: 2,4k words, overuse of the word kitten and allusions to cat like behavior

Note: fanfiction for my Valentine's Event

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

← how are Luke & Kieran doing ★ continuation of the evening →

~★~

Any day spent with Sylus was worth remembering, anytime he felt like it he spoiled you with various gifts and dates, indulging every desire of yours. This time he decided to surprise you, how much will you like the gift he prepared for you...

Being kidnapped from your apartment by your boyfriend who didn't want to share any information about where you were going was not on your to-do-list but oh well, here we are.

It's not that you didn't trust him, it was the fact that you were dying to know what came over him to pull a stunt like this, and he refused to acknowledge your questions.

The audacity of that man? But alright, you can try to act like it didn't bother you, looking out of the window of his luxurious car you tried your best to recognize your surroundings, but it seems that he was taking you to a totally unfamiliar place.

"When will you end my torment?" once again you turned your head his way to stare into his very soul, but he didn't act bothered in the slightest, sly smirk tugged on his lips, he didn't even spare a glance your way.

"Soon, sweetie, I promise, you need to be a little more patient than that." his teasing voice made you want to both: kiss him and strangle him. With a loud sigh you turned your attention back to the outside world, the trees passing fast before your eyes made you feel dizzy.

You closed your eyes, promising to open them in a moment, but then a moment became a minute, then two, then fifteen...

Quiet music coming from the speakers soothed you to sleep.

Sylus couldn't help but smile at the sight, his love, cuddled up in her seat, looking so vulnerable and calm, in contrast to her usual storm-like fierce character.

Well, she had the guts to take over the Onychinus one day if needed. But he wouldn't leave her to take care of such a responsibility, of course. The hard and dirty work shall be his, so she can enjoy herself in the world without worries.

Without counting the worries she felt because of his stubborn actions, but that's a story for another day.

Seeing your body starting to lean a little forward, he used his evol to make sure you won't hurt yourself if your head was to drop and hit something. Seeing you all comfy and safe once again he returned his full attention (99% of it) to the road.

He enjoyed your curious questions and bold but empty threats thrown his way. His favourite one was when you said you'll hang him like a pinãta and let the twins have some fun, how did you even come up with that?

He couldn't help but wonder what your reaction for his surprise will be. Will you be happy? Or disappointment? Will you shed some tears of joy or maybe call him a lunatic for driving you to nowhere just to ask one question.

The only thing that matters is your reaction and answer. Hopefully, you won't get disappointed.

It was around two hours later when you arrived at the destination.

"It's time to wake up kitten." his voice and him gently shaking your body woke you up, your eyes slowly opened, like in haze you stared at him while he tried to bring you to a fully conscious state.

"What..." your sleepy voice made him chuckle a little, he saw you closing your eyes again. Yeah, cats needed their sleep more than anything, right?

"Sweetie, we arrived." he kissed your head gently, your eyes opened once again, still looking tired after your nap.

He caressed your thigh for a moment before leaving the car to go and open your door. The moment he got to your side and crouched down you pulled him into a hug. Instantly his arms pulled you closer to him, making sure to keep your posture comfortable, and not let you lean too much down.

After half a minute or so, he gently moved you to sit back, which made you let out a quiet groan of disappointment at his warmth disappearing from you. He reached out for your shoes that you took off before your nap, carefully taking your ankle in his hands, moving it to rest on his thigh and putting your shoe on for you, giving your calf a kiss before following the same steps with your other leg.

After he was done he looked up, noticing your eyes closed again. A smirk tugged on his lips while he shook his head at your attics, before standing up and picking you up from your seat.

You didn't even flinch, already used to him carrying you whenever he finds the occasion to do so.

Closing the car doors with his leg and clicking the button on his keys to lock the vehicle, he started walking with you in his hold, your hands gripped his shirt like a kitten afraid to fall. Your eyes stayed closed, trusting him completely with your well-being. Your relaxed features made his expression soften, his precious kitten all comfortable in his arms.

The sun started shining a little brighter, irritating your eyes even with your eyelids shut closed, you hid your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around him tightly. He laughed at your behaviour once more.

The same woman who acted all cold and harsh with him the first few months he knew you, now completely trusting him to keep you safe. Your relationship started on rocks, but you managed to build a castle from the rumbles. And he couldn't be happier.

A couple minutes later he finally reached the place he wanted to show you.

"Sweetie... Open your eyes." slowly you followed his instructions. Meeting his eyes above you, the warm light making his features look more gentle than usual.

Slowly he puts you on your feet, your eyes never leaving each other. You stood up on the rocky path still hugging his side.

"Look." he whispered, his eyes turning to look at something ahead of you. You turned your head around, your eyes catching the grassy field full of white flowers. You tried to tell what kind of flowers they were, but you stood too far away from them "Those are datura flowers." he answered your silent question.

"Datura?" you peeked at his face above yours, him still holding you in the back hug "Aren't those like super poisonous?"

"They are." he kissed your head, unbothered.

"Why did you take me here?" you tried to search your mind for any memories that could somehow be connected to those flowers, but your thoughts were blank.

"There's a legend about those flowers, but it's a tale for another day. They just have a symbolism that matters to me." he pulled some strayed strands of hair behind your ear "I didn't just take you here to stare at the flowers."

"You didn't? Then what for?" you looked at him, your full attention dedicated to him.

"There's another place here that I want to show you." he took your hand in his, pulling you to walk after him.

"How did you even find this place? We're two or three hours away from Linkon, we'll be coming back in the middle of the night." he only chuckled at your question.

"Who said something about coming back tonight?" you looked at him stunned, but he didn't even glance your way.

"What do you mean?" you questioned again.

"I own a house not too far from here." you scoffed at his words.

"Pff of course you do." you continued your walk side by side, you tried to guess where he wanted to take you, but everything around you looked the same, no matter how many meters you walked.

After maybe twenty or so minutes you complained about him taking you to nowhere and making you move around too much when you just wanted to chill in your home. The only thing he said was 'be patient sweetie' just like before in the car.

Soon the sun started to hide behind the horizon, you couldn't help but gaze at the breathtaking sight before you, not noticing how your lover's attentive eyes were watching you, taking in the view of your beautiful face coated with warm orange light.

Too taken by the scene in the sky, you didn't see when you walked up to the place he wanted to show you all along.

You felt him coming to stop, your head instantly turned his way, asking a silent question. He only looked at you, with one corner of his mouth raised.

Confused you started to look around, the sight before you made your eyes widen.

A huge, red tree met your eye. Something about it making you feel like under a spell. In a daze you stared as the leaves swayed slowly with the wind, there were some lights hung on the branches, hidden behind the layer of leaves.

Your daydream got interrupted by Sylus's voice.

"Come back to me sweetie." you turned your head towards him, looking at him, waiting for explanation. Why did he take you here? "This place is also a part of the local legends. I guess you could also say that it has a... personal meaning to me." he looked at nature's creation.

"Personal meaning? May I ask why is that?" you observed his face, his expression not giving you any clue.

"A couple of years ago, that very tree was dying, locals tried their best to save it, but their efforts were not enough to help with its withering state. I paid it no mind at first, until I heard a legend surrounding that tree. It's said that a dragon lived in this village centuries ago, ruling the lands for many years, until..." his eyes turned to you "He sacrificed himself for his lover."

"Why did he have to sacrifice himself for love..." you asked, your tone gentle, Sylus started to look vulnerable, his gaze turned even softer.

"I don't know, there are many tales explaining that, some claim that his lover was the one who killed him, their greed for his richest becoming stronger than their love, some say that people rebelled against him, and he had to sacrifice himself for his lover to run away, others believe that he had to kill himself or else he would have to hurt his lover." your face took a rather sad expression.

"Which one do you believe is true?" his head lowered to kiss your forehead, soft smile gracing his lips.

"If I had to guess." he stopped to think for a moment "None of them." you looked at him confused, he couldn't help but chuckle at your expression "None of them ever made enough sense for me to believe them."

"Does everything need to make sense?" you crooked a smile, looking at him with something hiding in your gaze.

"No." he turned to look at the tree before you.

"What's the real reason you took me here?" you read through him once again.

"When I came here for the first time, this tree was almost dead, but it still clung to the last string connecting it to life, not letting itself leave this world." it reminded me of myself, the last string connecting me to this world being you "I decided to help it and a couple months later it grew larger, healthy and strong. I couldn't help but come back to this place every once in a while, something about it brought me a sense of peace." something only you were really able to achieve.

"It is peaceful here, unlike your usual environment." you giggled, hiding your head in his chest.

"Don't tell me you don't enjoy the thrill in our life sweetheart." our? "I brought you here because I wanted to show you more... Peaceful piece of my life. Something that you deserve more than the usual routine of the N109 Zone."

"I enjoy my days in the N109 Zone, I wouldn't change a thing." you nuzzled you head into his torso, earning yourself a quiet laugh from the man.

"I know sweetheart, seeing you happy in my home makes my heart fill with joy every time." gently he touched your chin, making you raise your head and meet his gaze "That's also part of the reason why I came out with a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" you were confused, what could he possibly talk about?

"Move in with me permanently." your brows raised in shock, was he actually asking you that? But you already talked about it..

"But... We said that we'll do that once we'll be ready to get married and stuff..." you let out a nervous giggle. Of course you wanted to agree, but you thought that it was still too early for him?

To your shock you saw him leaning down.

"What are you doing-" don't panic, don't panic, DON'T PANIC.

He kneeled before you, your palm still resting in his, you felt your heart beating two times faster than normally.

"Marry me." his voice didn't falter, his gaze confident. You wanted to faint on the spot.

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Kitten, I'm not."

"Sylus I..." his free hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a red velvet box.

You watched as he swiftly opened it, your eyes falling onto the ring probably worth more than your apartment.

"So? What's your answer?" you saw how his eyes seemed to lighten up every time you looked at them, you couldn't help but think about how he looked like a cat, pretending that he found himself in the same room with his owner totally by accident.

Your eyes left the jewelry, now looking straight into his eyes. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Sylus..." you felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes. The man of your life, the one who treated you like you deserved the world, who saw you at your worst and still reminded you how beautiful you were to him, was proposing to you "Of course I'll marry you."

He smiled, not his usual cocky grin, but a genuine smile. Gently he put the ring onto your finger, the gem adoring your hand perfectly.

He stood up, taking your face into his palms, your hands went up to his elbows.

He watched your glassy eyes shine, felt your happiness like it was his own, and maybe - it was.

His head dipped down to plant a kiss on your lips, deepening it almost instantly, sharing his feelings with you.

He absolutely adores you, and he'll continue to, through every life and story.

[redtail-lol]

I'm also gonna just answer them all myself

1. My genders are "woman" and "aporagender" but other labels I use to describe the aporinity include aliagender, neutrois, outherine, and just "genderqueer" and "nonbinary." I also sometimes identify as a hypergirl. In terms of modality, I'm cisgender and isogender.

2. She/they, questioning some cat neos like purr in place of her. Because I vibe with them.

3. I've known I was multigender like a year ish now? I think? I kinda always felt a connection to being nonbinary but didn't identify with it because I thought I couldn't be a girl if I was nonbinary and I didn't feel like I had two genders. Then someone told me about bigendermeld and I was like "oh shit that me."

4. I don't remember but it was a long time before I realized it applied to me.

5. Yes! Bigender, ambigender (genders are static and felt simultaneously), polygender (multigender synonym), and microlabels from the wiki, bigenderstatic (bigender and statically gendered), bigenderboth (your genders are always felt at the same time), bigendermeld (the genders are melded), squashgender (bigender but someone came and squashed your genders together), squashgenderflux (squashgender but how mixed your genders are fluctuates), melangender (multiple genders somewhat mixed but some distinction can be made), genderfocus (genders usually blurred but occasionally separate), plurigender (same as ambigender), nutrogender (always all of your genders), refutiogender (genders "refute" each other bc I'm binary and nonbinary), dosgender (not a boygirl), fluogender (1 binary 1 nonbinary gender), faeian (multigender with no masc or male genders) and primusgender (having a primary gender).

6. I identify with nonbinary both because of my multigender status and because of my aporinity, and midbinary because of my multigender status, but I strictly identify as NOT trans.

7. Definitely more static - though there is some fluctuation in intensity, it is always the same identity

8. Blended, though that can change day to day and occasionally they start attempting mitosis

9. Yes I have 147 gender related labels and over 500 labels in total

10. I do actually! So let's say being a woman is coffee. I have a cup of coffee. Being nonbinary is coffee creamer, and the specific flavor I'm using is aporagender, but it reminds me a lot of the flavors of aliagender and neutrois. And this creamer belongs to the collection of outherine flavors. So I put the creamer in the coffee, and it mixes, but they're still two different substances, just impossible for a regular person to separate.

11. The one I have right now

12. Yes it does, I collect orientations too so when I suddenly had the opportunity to have nblw and nblnb orientations I was over the moon.

13. no

14. I think so yes

15. The names I go by online are Red, from Redtail because I stole a warrior cat of a gender I'm not even to be my persona, and Lun from the word "Lunian" which I only go by on sideblog @bilesproblems.

16. I do not wish to transition beyond telling a few people that I think will understand and being out online.

17. Not applicable

18. Yeah, when I tried to defend genderfluid people who didn't identify as trans and should have their identity respected, I was degendered and told that, because I'm a cis girl, I don't get to talk on nonbinary issues like I'm not also nonbinary, and the OP I was arguing with also implied they were more nonbinary than me.

19. I pick the one I identify with more in the moment.

20. I don't have any internal transmultiphobia and I deal with external transmultiphobia by saying mean words to the transmultiphobe.

21. I like that I can finally explain why I've felt this weird connection to the nonbinary label for so long without giving up being a girl

22. Floralflags' multigender flag redesign

23. Being cis outside of the normative definition of cis, and queering the cis experience (I coined the term infracis for this)

24. Sure have. I made a bunch of bracelets and among them include bigender, nonbinary, faeian, girlby, and aporagender,

25. I don't have anything but the closest approximation was a joke made about tomatoes being both a fruit and vegetable so I have decided to accept Tomatoes from Real Life as bigender representation.

26. Online plenty, and irl I know some genderfluid people, plus a fellow chinook kid yesterday told me he was two-spirit. I think TS can be considered multigender depending on the individual.

27. Not much offline, only really online.

28. Not really, except at my local queer club.

29. You could say that yeah

30. I wish more people knew it wasn't like "half x half y," that more people knew not all multigender people were boygirls, and that more people knew genderfluid isn't the only possible way to be multigender

31. I used to hate being cis. If I didn't see people making fun of it, I would have probably been a recugirl. It just felt like there was something about it that wasn't quite right. But embracing a queer version of cisness, as a multigender person, was a lot more freeing and made it feel way more comfortable. When cisness didn't mean denying a part of me I didn't even recognize yet, I liked it a lot more. Now I strongly identify with the cis label, but everyone expects me to be trans. I love genderfuckery

Multigender question prompts / ask game!

Basics

1) What are your genders? Either labels/terms or descriptions :) 2) Describe your pronouns. What are they, and why? 3) How long have you known you were multigender? Or, when did you discover each of your genders? 4) When did you first hear about being multigender? 5) Are there any terms under the multigender umbrella that you identify with? (like bigender, trigender, genderfluid, omnigender, multiflux) 6) Do you identify with any umbrella terms that can encompass being multigender, like "trans" or "nonbinary"?

What's It Like For You? 7) Are your genders more fluid or more static? 8) Are your genders more separate or blended together? 9) Do you "hoard" genders or labels? 10) Do you have any analogies you use to describe your genders? 11) Describe your ideal gender presentation, or physical form. 12) Does your gender influence your sexual orientation? 13) Does your sexual orientation influence your gender(s)? 14) Do you identify with any multigender-specific sexuality labels? Getting A Bit Personal Now, Are We

15) Describe your names and their significance to you. 16) What are your plans for medical, social, legal (etc) transition? How far along in your transition would you consider yourself to be? 17) Have you faced any barriers in transitioning specifically related to your multigender identity or related goals? 18) Have you ever faced prejudice or hostility due to your multigender identity or related presentation? 19) When in a situation forcing you into one gender, what do you do? 20) How do you deal with such transmultiphobia, external or internal? Do you use any comforts or affirmations to help?

Pride

21) What are your favorite things about being multigender? 22) What multigender-related pride flag do you like the most? 23) What unique parts about your identity are you proud of? 24) Do you do (or have you ever done) anything to express pride, privately or publicly, in your multigender identity? 25) What's your favorite art/music/writing/etc about being multigender? (Things not explicitly written as such are OK too!)

Community

26) Do you have any friends who are multigender? 27) Do you talk about being multigender with other people? 28) Are you open/out about being multigender? 29) Are you open about some parts of your gender identity, but not others? 30) What do you wish more people knew about being multigender? 31) Free space! Share anything you would like about your multigender experience.

---

Feel free to share or repost! You can ask me questions from this list, ask your followers to ask you some, or just reblog and answer some yourself. There are just enough to fit in a month, too, so you could even make it into a daily journal challenge! The possibilities are endless...

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Im craving for angst , so girl can you write about Hyun ju x female reader

Basically Hyun ju and female reader have been dating for 1 and half year now, but things didn't went so well after attending squid game, Hyun ju gave young mi more attention , than she did for female reader so she distance herself from Hyun ju and her team, wondering why female reader ditched her. So female reader went to Gi Hun's team instead. And to make things worse not only Hyun ju voted O to continue the game, but Hyun ju lost the love of her life during the Mingle, ANND.. It took Hyun ju 2 to 4 business days to figure out that she hasn't been a good girlfriend ever since they came to squid game and Hyun ju Crashes out so badly.

(Female reader committed su!cide during Mingle, died instead of young mi and the shaman lady predicted female reader's death)

(And YES the guilt is definitely eating Hyun ju alive)

Sorry if this is too long

Take your time for this one

゜・（／。＼）・゜

Okayyyy complex, I like it! Hopefully I do this ask justice 🙏🏻

HER ANGEL

Pairing: Hyun-ju x femreader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, death, suicide, longing, survivors guilt.

Insecure. That was a word Y/n had always been familiar with. Ever since she was little. Her mother would criticize everything she did. If she ate too much, if she didn't eat enough. If her hair was down, if her hair was up. If she smiled, and if she didn't smile. Everything she did up until she was an adult was judged.

When she finally got the taste of freedom, moving out at the ripe age of eighteen, she discovered that the world was an ugly place. Nothing like how she fantasized how it would be. The books were wrong.

For the first few years after moving out, she was alone. Truly alone. She had no one. No friends to call late at night, no fuzzy kitten to cuddle when she had tears running down her face on a rainy day. No significant other who would whisper sweet nothings to her as she fell asleep... No one.

Not until she met her angel. Hyun-ju.

Everything had changed. For the first time in her life, Y/n felt like she deserved to take up space in the world. Hyun-ju made her feel wanted, loved. She erased every insecurity Y/n had. She loved every flaw and imperfection. She kissed her scars and wiped her tears.

Hyun-ju was her soul mate.

Y/n didn't care that her angel was different. She didn't care how people looked at them in public. Hyun-ju was perfect, in every way. Even if her angel couldn't see it for herself.

Hyun-ju told Y/n of her wishes for surgery. She had cried to Y/n about her debt and abandonment. And Y/n was there to comfort her in return, wiping her angels tears away and whispering promises.

So when a nice-looking man asked Y/n to play a game, showing her the money she would win, of course she agreed. For her angel, for Hyun-ju.

Y/n didn't need convincing to call the number on the back on the card. Once she saw Hyun-ju looking at herself in front of the mirror, her eyes filled with loathing, she dialed the number.

It was the least she could do. Hyun-ju had given Y/n her sense of self back. She had given Y/n her smile back. Of course, she would return the favor. Anything for her angel.

Waking up to the blasted music, she looked around to see other people. Waring the ugliest green she had ever seen. Looking down at herself, she saw her jacket was labeled 005.

She gathered around like everyone else. Waiting for an explanation. There were so many pink guards and even more players. They explained that they weren't trying to collect debt or cause any harm.

"Excuse me!" Said a voice. Not just any voice. Her angel's voice. Y/n quickly turned and saw Hyun-ju. Her Hyun-ju standing near a couple of bunks. She didn't catch what her angel said next, only focused on the fact that she was here.

Y/n winced as she saw Hyun-ju getting slapped. That was the day her angel had gone on a walk. She remembers her coming home, acting strange. Hyun-ju had met the salesman before Y/n did.

As all the players walked in single file lines up the colorful steps to get their pictures taken, Y/n looked around for Hyun-ju. Seeing her fixing her hair prettily, she smiles and quickly walks up to her. "Angel!" Y/n gushes.

Instead of greeting Y/n with a smile, Hyun-ju tenses. Asking her what she was doing here. "I know how much you need the money..." Y/n whispers softly, watching as Hyun-ju's eyes soften.

As they all walk into the first game, Hyun-ju holds Y/n's hand. "Don't separate from me, sweet girl. Okay?" Her angel asks softly. Y/n squeezes her hand in return.

"What is that?" Y/n asks, pointing to the giant doll like figure in the distance.

"Green light..."

Y/n quickly runs forward a few steps, then stops.

"Red light!" The doll waits, seeing if anyone would move.

The first to go was 196. Y/n stood, stiff as a board, the sound of people dying behind her. When the doll says green light, no one moves forward, but Hyun-ju reaches over and grips Y/n's hand.

Player 456 explains that they will die anyway if they don't cross the finish line in time, and so, she stays behind Hyun-ju, racing towards the finish line.

Once across, she watches in horror as her angel races back across to help player 456. This is the first and only time that Y/n has ever wanted to yell at Hyun-ju.

The second game is the six legged pentathlon. Her and Hyun-ju look around for more teammates. She notices Hyun-ju's fallen expression when people stare at her, and when they don't want to join because of her.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice says from behind the both of them. Y/n and Hyun-ju turn to see a small girl, obviously nervous. "W-Would you...like to team up with me?" She asks, looking at Hyun-ju first, then to Y/n.

Ever since then, Hyun-ju had been attached at the hip with Young-Mi. It was hard for Y/n not to notice, especially in a place like this. When she wanted comfort and reassurance from her angel, she would see that Hyun-ju was already comforting Young-Mi, that she was already whispering words of encouragement to her instead of Y/n.

But that was just who her angel was. She was kind to everyone, and Y/n had no right to take that away from Young-Mi. Y/n could clearly see how terrified the small girl was, and if Hyun-ju was her safe place, then who was Y/n to take that away from her?

That's was until Y/n heard it. What Hyun-ju was saying to Young-Mi.

"I won't let anything happen to you, sweet girl." Hyun-ju had said. Y/n felt her stomach drop. Sweet girl. That was Y/n's nickname. That was her word of endearment.

She decided to give them space. Joining player 456 and his team.

The third game was mingle.

As they all stood on the platform, Y/n watched as Hyun-ju held Young-Mi's hand, giving her soft smiles. Y/n felt horrible for feeling envious. Would she always be cursed to be this insecure? Would she ever feel content with anything?

"TEN"

The voice said. Everyone scrambled to find their groups and rooms. So far, their team had nine after joining Hyun-ju. Until her angel grabbed the crazy shaman lady.

Running into the green room, Y/n pants, not even bothering to look at her angel holding onto another woman. Hyun-ju gives her a confused look, wondering why she had left their group.

"Your heavy sorrow will swallow you whole." The crazy lady says, making everyone look at her. Y/n shrinks into herself as she realizes that she's talking to her. "You won't last much longer, I'm afraid. Pity. You have the purest birthstone."

"SIX" the voice says.

Gi-hun and Young-il had split from the group, leaving Y/n no other choice but to join Hyun-ju.

They all run to a yellow door, freezing in their tracks as they see a group is already in there. Hyun-ju races to find a different one.

She found one.

Y/n starts to run towards it with the other people in her group, but when she sees player 333 running towards it too, she slows down.

Looking over at her angel, she sees her clutching Young-Mi's hand.

The pregnant girl holds her belly.

The mother and sun cling to each other.

Where did Y/n fit into that? She didn't.

She has seen Jun-hee talking to player 333 on several occasions...

She needed him, more than any of them needed Y/n.

She made her decision then.

As player 333 races into the room, she finally hears Hyun-ju calling for her. Her angel was trying to get 333 out of the way.

Y/n walks to the door, looking into the small slit. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing? Go find a room! Go!" Hyun-ju shouts. Y/n only shakes her head softly.

"Ita okay angel." She whispers, putting her hands onto the door. Hyun-ju is starting to panic. The timer still had thirteen seconds on it. "I know there's no place for me here. Not now." Y/n says, tearing up.

Hyun-ju continues to shout, begging Y/n to go find a room. "You made me feel so inside the lines, Hyun-ju. Like I wasn't a lost shade outside of the pretty design. I could actually fit inside the art." Y/n says with a sad smile.

"I never thanked you for that." She says. "Thank you for showing me. For guiding me to see who I was for the first time."

Nine seconds on the timer.

"I know you'll be happy. You'll make it out of here and live the life you've always dreamed of...live the life you've always deserved. A life, with Young-Mi." Y/n's lip quivers.

Four seconds on the timer.

Hyun-ju starts shaking the door, sobbing and yelling. "I love you, my angel." She whispers tearfully, letting out a pained breath as she feels the bullet peirce her back.

"NO! Y/N!"

Player 333 had left that room beaten to a bloody pulp.

At first, Young-Mi's hand doesn't feel out of place instead of her own, not for the next two games.

Until Y/n's words repeat instead of her head.

A life...with Young-Mi.

Once she realizes it, she drops Young-Mi's hand as if it had burned her. She had been holding the wrong woman. Comforting the wrong woman. Calling her...

She had called the wrong woman sweet girl.

Hyun-ju looks over to Young-Mi, a tear falling. She had made the love of her life question her love.

She had been at fault for her sweet girl's death. Not 333. Not even the guards. Hyun-ju was the reason.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing her again, " the shaman says. "A lot sooner than you think."

For the next game... was human chess.

I'm scared.... what do we think?

[dorkus-mcdingus]

A Dance with The Dragon Prince: An OB!Malleus Thought

There's some book 7 mentions so you've been warned!

Enjoy the little thought piece! 😉

From what I can remember, they say that one shouldn't accept a dance with a fae because it could bring about your demise or entrap you in its spell.

Imagine inviting OB!Malleus for a dance but he could see the amount of anger, sadness, and sheer disappointment in your eyes. This should remind you both of all of the happy memories but that fear of never waking up again has tainted your view of him.

Was the man you playfully called Hornton/Tsunotarou a lie? Was everything about him just a ruse? You wished he could be set free but not like this! Not when he could potentially make everyone on Sage's Island die of starvation or thirst or at worst, make them endure 1000 years of never seeing their family and friends again except in a false reality.

You want to wake him up but you're so consumed by your anger towards him that by the time you lead the dance, he knows.

The one friend he's made throughout his school life is disappointed in him. Lilia was one of the people he ABSOLUTELY couldn't lose but same could go with a lot of people here including yourself. Although, Silver's tears was the straw that broke the camel's back, your idea of finding a way to stop the ache of departure was what sparked it! WHY DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY IT?! WHY DO YOU WANT TO BETRAY HIM JUST LIKE SILVER AND SEBEK?!

As Rook would describe it if he were to witness it,

"Such agony, such sweet pain and heartache! The sheer amount of passion they hold! Betrayal has never looked so sweet and heart-wrenching! Quelle beauté!"

Now personally because I think this dance suits this sort of tension, I would imagine a tango would suit this encounter. You both are trying to study each other's faces, what thoughts are racing through your heads, but the fact that your anger, your disgust, never left your face even as you dance with him, his beloved child of man, his dearest friend has left him at the table, storming out...

Not you... OH GREAT SEVEN NOT YOU TOO! LILIA ABANDONING HIM WAS ALREADY BAD ENOUGH BUT HE CAN'T LOSE YOU TOO! SMILE AT HIM AGAIN LIKE WHAT YOU USED TO! PLEASE SMILE! WHY WON'T YOU SMILE AT HIM?!

By the time the dance ends, you're both heaving but no... You're not smiling at him! This was done not just to protect Lilia but also you and all of the companions you hold so dear! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?! WHY WON'T YOU SMILE AT HIM?!

But even then, one thing you had to admit is that he always was enchanting on the dancefloor. Even though he's committing such a selfish act out of pain, your heart aches the more you look at this pitiful prince.

[cvnt4him]

Shoyou breaking up w you before you both graduate.

Shoyou has such a hard time breaking up with you. He truly loved you so much but he had to follow his heart. He couldn't hold onto you, he felt as if that if he made you wait for him; wait until he was finally ready to put down roots then he'd be asking you to save yourself for longer than he even knew. It was wrong in his eyes, he loves you so much but it isn't fair to you. It isn't fair to hold you down like this.

“ I can't hold on to you...not like this....I love you, too much for this..”

You both cry in each other's arms, foreheads leaning against one another. You both sniffle and try to hold back your sobs. The way he spoke gently to you, it was so soothing yet so heartbreaking. That was the last time you'd seen him.

A couple of years past, you and a few other former kurasuno affiliates sat inside the bleachers waiting for the game to end everyone on the edge of their seats with the heated game going on. However there was a particular reason you were squeamish...shoyou hinata. He was playing. You watched him move with quicker than you remember jumping higher than ever. He was more attractive than you could even bear.

His tanned skin sweating and reddened slightly, that stupid smile he had on his face that he got when he was eager...goodness. you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together. It's been so long since you last seen him, since you two had last spoken. You were nervous...what would he say when he actually seen you?,

After the game ends everyone says their hellos and stuff. You were so nervous fidgeting as you groan lowly to yourself. There was no way you could face your ex boyfriend, not like this. It was too......much for you to handle..

Just as you were about to call this whole thing quits and walk away you hear a familiar voice shout to you..

“...hey.”

You stop in your tracks seemingly unable to move. You knew exactly who it was, emotions were filling you. Such a mix of them making your stomach churn. You gulp down hardly before slowly turning to face him.

Your eyes met with those vibrant gleaming orange eyes. So wide and full of neverending potential. He was absolutely gorgeous, even more up close. You could see his skin glisten with sweat and small strands of his ginger hair sticking to his forehead. He offered you a small smile slightly opening his arms to you, letting you do what you will with that.

What else could you do than run into his toned arms. Tears well in your eyes as you laugh inhaling his newly distinct scent inside your nostrils. He wrapped his arms around you tightly chuckling above you. He had gotten a bit taller than you and way more muscular than you'd remembered.

As you both pulled apart clearing your throats from the small laughter you shared, you couldn't help but admire him closely now. He was so ethereal, and goodness that smile....

You seen the way he died you up and down slowly biting his lip lighting as he did so. S small amused scoff leaving him. You felt so jittery underneath his gaze like this.

“ you look good.”

His voice was deeper than you remembered as well...sending vibrations right through your body. You stammered on your words trying to find what to say as what he says goes straight to your head, making your face warm up a bit.

“ yeah...uhm, yes well so do you. you really uh tanned up a bit, huh. suits you.”

He chuckled lowly at your words, rubbing the back of his slightly sweatened neck sighing as he speaks to you.

“ yeah well uh, you're not actually the first person to notice that. not the first person to say that either. alot of uh soccer moms seem to love the tan.”

He laughs at the end of his sentence, you can't help but to laugh along with him. Sighing shakily as you stare at him. You feel as if it's wrong to do so, you hate how much you want him badly but gosh he's so sexy.

You both just look at each other for a moment staring deeply into each other's eyes. You see the way he slowly nibbles at his lip.

Before you knew it you were making out in the bathroom trying to be as quietly as you could considering all of the people that were outside. His hot breaths fanning your face as he struggles to get your clothes off with his slippery hands. He groans lowly as you begin to nip at his neck, his hands wrapping around you and pulling you closer to him.

“ god, I want you so fuckin’ badly.”

Shoyou groaned above you, sitting you up on the counter as he cranes your head up to his so he can kiss you once more. He lets his tongue find it's way inside of your mouth. Your tongues swirling around each others spit slipping at the corners of your mouths.

Once he gets your shirt off her quick to attack your chest kissing sloppily over your pushed up boobs, hands going to your back to quickly remove your back his hands coming up to replace it, gently squeezing and groping the meaty flesh. He groans and moves his kisses and small sucked down to your bare chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth.

You hold him close by his head tangling your fingers through his ginger locs, small curls forming around your fingers and you scratch lightly at his scalp humming with a small laugh laced in. You kiss his head lightly as your breathing changes, you pant lightly and lowly a small mewl leaving your lips as he continued leaving hickeys and sucking harshly.

A small knock at the door causes you to tense in his hands, a light gasp leaving you as you pull at his hair slightly. He groans and continues as if he's even more needy than before. Pulling you impossibly closer to him.

A voice speaks slightly muffled due to the barrier you couldn't exactly make out what the male said due to shoyous excessive moaning.

“ shoyou.. there's, there's someone at the door...”

A small grunt leaves his mouth as a response you don't know what to do, you sigh beneath his touch jittery and nervous due to the person

After a while it appears he'd left, but by then shoyou was already burying his face inside of your cunt. Inhaling deeply at the smell of you he missed so much, a small whine leaving him as he kissed your clothed cunt sloppily.

He pulled away swiftly to remove the barrier, pulling your pants and panties down at once. Delving his tongue inside immediately without hesitation groaning at the taste of you on his tongue eyes slightly rolling as he struggles to keep his composure.

He licks and sucks up everything you give him trying to maintain eye contact with you as be makes out with your cunny having his thumb rub circles on your clit slowly. As he pulls away momentarily from you a line of your arousal and his spit connects him to your cunt making you shudder at how he looks at you.

Hes so pussy drunk he can't help but to push his face back into your sweet folds tongue flicking and swirling around your clit as he fingers you slowly. There were murmurs outside of the door causing you slight concern, maybe you were being too loud or maybe he was slurping too loudly. There were so many things clouding your head, however with your orgasm coming fastly and crashing down on you all you could do was grab shoyou by his hair and try and pull him away from you.

He kept licking up everything you gave him sighing in your pussy as he rubs your thighs soothingly. He pulls away from you finally licking up everything left on his face before making eye contact with you once more. He smirks and scoffs lowly before pulling your clothes up and riding to his feet.

You catch your breath, yet feeling a bit more breathless as you look into his eyes. Full of determination and a hint of cockiness. He pulls you into a slow kiss letting you taste the flavours of yourself on his tongue.

You sigh shakily before pushing him away lying your head in his shoulder as you continue to level your breathing. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head making you laugh lightly.

“ I miss this. I miss you.”

He rubbed your shoulder softly looking at himself in the mirror facing the music of his previous decisions. Shoyou didn't know what he wanted but he knew he couldn't let you go. Not again.

“ you were right....before, that is.”

He hums looking down at you, you dust yourself off before jumping off of the counter turning to wash your hands and encouraging him to do the same. You two stand side by side as you both dry your hands, he looks at you wondering whatever it is that you mean .

“ I was holding you back. I still might...you're meant for greatness. I would only get in the way of that.”

He scoffed annoyed at your response. Shoyou didn't care about any of that, sure he knew some of his fans would be upset upon hearing he would be in a relationship but he doesn't care. He truly does love you and he always has. There was no way in hell be would pass up getting to follow his passion and being with you.

“ y/n I love you. more than I do anything else in this world. I can handle a little hate from some people, especially if it means I can be with you and do what I love.”

You sigh. This was a lot. You didn't want to take him away from the world or from what he loves. It would make you feel bad, not just about yourself but for him. At first you didn't get it, but now you understand. All too well unfortunately. You can't hold him back like this, not again. He'd be better off following his dreams and focusing on them rather than having to worry about you and manage himself and his goals.

You turn to him tears welling in your eyes once more, you give a wobbly smile to him one that he knew couldn't mean anything good. He sighed shakily accepting what he knew was to come. As fun as this was you both knew it wouldn't work. You loved each other too much; cared for each other too much. So much so that it held you both back.

Just as you were about to speak, about to apologize he simply pulls you into a hug. It was tight and comforting exactly what you both needed. His breathing changed as if he were trying to hold back his emotions. You kissed his cheek before letting him go telling him he should wait few before leaving after you. He agrees.

As you walked out of that bathroom you ran into a couple of people saying your goodbyes and giving your hugs to everyone and leaving.

Weeks pass and just as you thought you could get over whatever you needed to get over in order to focus on yourself. You scroll on social media to find everyone talking about ‘japanese volleyball player shoyou hinata, better known as 'ninja shoyou' from the black jackals seen leaving bathroom after another woman.’ there was a clear video showing you walking out of the bathroom fixing yourself up and saying goob ye to people and then shoyou walking out about a couple of minutes later.

Fuck

[zepskies]

All righty, here we go, diving into more of the angsty love triangle!! *rubs hands together* 😈

However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Oooh my God, poor Dean. 🫣 This is literally torture for him! lol

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you.

I had a feeling this was why he insisted on her living in the room next to his, our big protective man, but now it's coming back to bite him in the ass. 💀

He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

Sobbbiiiiiingggg -- oh Dean. 😭😭

It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

God Dean! You can only bury your emotions under assholery and anger for so long. He can hate the fact that she's a hunter and want more for her, but he has to accept that it's her choice, and he can support her and be honest with her rather than succumbing to his assholery. 🥲🥲

But of course, his "I'm not worthy" mentality crops up as well. 🙃 Makes you want to throttle him (if in more than one way lmao)!!

The thought that he was suffering so much while trying to find her when she was in another world is also heartbreakingly on-brand for him. He'd so be tearing through every piece of lore and resource to try and get her back. 😭

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother. Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

💀💀💀 Come on now, Dean, don't be petty. 🤣

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted." But I do want her.

TELL HIM, SAM. SHAKE HIM UNTIL HIS GREEN EYES ROLL INTO HIS HEAD -- make him see how he's acting!! lol

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Gahhh pain. so very pain, even though it hurts so good. 😭😭😭

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

Omggg finally!! Finally Dean's being honest about how he feels without being a dick about it. 😪

But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Ughhh such soul-rendering description, and the spice here is oh so delicious. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

But I have to point out that the reading is having a DAY loll. Two beefcakes in one night?? 😏

(Also, I'm afraid of how Ben is gonna take this. 😬)

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Oh sure, pretend she meant nothing to you to spare your deep-down man feelings. 🙄

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

LMAOO Ben vs. Technology -- I think we all know who's winning. 🤣

And Ben secretly liking therapy just so he just has someone to vent to for an hour? Be still my heart, honestly. 😭

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield. He thought it was cute.

OMGGGGG I'M WEEAAAAK -- and he's already clocking IT girl's cuteness, I'm dead. 😂💞 The way he's already starting to like her better? I see what you did there. 😉

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

ahaha you charmer, you. 😂 A swoon-worthy line, even if we do know how sleazy this man can be lol. She really has no idea what she's getting into with this guy, but I love to imagine that with this nicely wrapped up ending! 💕💕

Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader

POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover

Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)

Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Dean POV

Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.

And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.

Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.

Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.

Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.

Not some asshole from another universe.

The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.

The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.

Fuck.

His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.

Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.

It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.

Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.

He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.

He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.

Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.

That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.

Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.

Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.

It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.

However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.

But then Ben had shown up.

When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.

But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.

Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.

All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.

Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.

The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"

Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?

Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.

Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.

Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"

"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white.  He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."

Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.

"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.

"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.

"I'm kinda what?"

"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"

Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she hasn't made up her mind."

"But why?"

"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"

Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"

"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.

He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.

"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.

"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"

At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."

"I think it does."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."

"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."

But I do want her.

The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.

"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.

Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"

"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."

"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.

"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.

"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.

Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"

"Just leave me alone Sammy."

And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.

Reader POV

Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.

It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.

You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.

It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty about.

You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.

Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.

Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-

You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.

You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.

In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.

No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-

The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.

Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.

But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.

Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.

You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.

Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.

Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.

Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.

At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.

Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.

Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?

The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.

It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.

You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.

You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.

But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.

You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.

Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.

Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.

You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.

Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.

You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.

The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.

But what?

He turns when he hears you walk in.

You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.

"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.

"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"

"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."

You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.

Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-

"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.

"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.

"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"

"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."

Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?

The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.

You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."

You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.

Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"

"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.

Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.

"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."

"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."

Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"

You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.

But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.

Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-

"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"

"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.

"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"

"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.

The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.

If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?

You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.

Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!

You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.

"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe." 

Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"

"No I-"

"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.

"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.

"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.

Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!

"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.

"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."

"But-"

"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"

His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.

Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?

"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.

"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.

"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?

Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.

“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”

Is he out of his MIND?!

"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.

"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together

"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"

You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.

"This is different!" He fumes.

"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"

Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?

You didn't think that you did.

Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.

"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight.  "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"

You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."

"I compliment you." He huffs back.

"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"

Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."

"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."

"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."

"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"

"That's not what I-"

"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.

His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.

You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”

Why is it a big deal?

“It just is!"

"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.

"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”

“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.

Who does he think he is? We're not together.

“That’s not what this is about-“

“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”

"It is my business!"

"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"

"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.

A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.

"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”

“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"

“I’m not trying to!”

“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"

The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.

Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.

"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.

"Thought what?"

"That you wanted me to-"

"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.

"Well-"

"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."

Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.

Dean pauses. "What?"

"Why after years of you hating me-"

"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.

"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.

It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.

"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"

"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"

You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.

Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?

"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.

Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.

Holy shit.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.

The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.

You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.

He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.

"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.

The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-

Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.

“What are you-“

“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.

His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.

You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.

You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.

But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.

Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.

"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"

Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."

"Then why?"

He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."

"I'm okay."

"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"

"This?"

"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.

"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.

"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."

You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"

There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.

"No.”

“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”

“No. But-"

 You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."

Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"

His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."

Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.

"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.

You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."

"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.

"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.

"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.

Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.

"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.

"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone.  "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."

"But-" You try to say again.

Oh this is so awkward.

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.

Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.

Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."

The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.

"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does.  It only makes Ben smirk wider.

Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.

"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."

"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."

Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."

"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.

The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.

The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.

But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.

Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."

Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.

Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."

"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”

Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.

And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.

"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.

Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"

"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.

"Just something come on-"

"But why-"

"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.

Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.

You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"

"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.

"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.

Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.

"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.

"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.

"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.

Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.

"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."

Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."

"Anything that I can do to convince you?"

"I can think of a few things…"

Ben/Soldier Boy POV

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.

He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.

Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.

He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.

Fuck.

He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.

And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.

But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.

Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.

I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!

Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.

And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.

Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.

Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.

Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.

"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.

The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.

Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.

"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.

"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."

"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.

He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.

The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.

"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.

Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.

"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.

Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.

"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.

"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.

Because the person standing next to his desk was you.

This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."

But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.

He thought it was cute.

As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.

It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.

"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"

"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.

"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."

Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."

You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.

Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.

"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"

"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.

Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.

Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.

"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."

"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.

He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.

"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.

It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.

"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."

He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.

A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗

Reveal of the Poll:

🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.

💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.

Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed

@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@chriszgirl92

@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug

@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never

@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned

@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27

@funkenniffler

[bluebvrry]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PROMISE ⋆

Synopsis -> all those waiting for 5 years in vain. Hearing her name doesn’t make you go all fluterry and flustered anymore, instead it makes you growl in hatred

Pairing -> non-idol!giselle x non-idol!f!reader

Genre -> angst, lovers to strangers (?)

Warnings -> angst,3.6k WC, Karina is being mentioned, yelling, Karina is just a sweet caring boss, hurt hurt hurt, lmk if I missed anything that wasn’t mentioned

A/N -> boomshakala another angst 🤓 wanted to post this story before I start the first chapter of the series, ALSOOOOO if you want a continuation please lmk or if you have continuation ideas lmk🥹, was lit listening to “slow dancing in the dark” by Joji and it would lowk go well with this imagine buh I got that planned for another one 😌😉

You stared blankly at the small, velvet box on your dresser, the engagement ring Aeri had given you before she left gleaming in the dim light of your room. It had been months since she'd departed, leaving you with a promise to return and a heart full of longing.

You remembered the day she left like it was yesterday. You had stood in the airport, clinging to each other as tears streamed down your faces. Aeri had whispered promises in your ear, vows to return to you as soon as she could. And you had sworn to wait for her, to never leave her side once she came back.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had settled in your chest. You had tried to stay busy, to distract yourself from the ache of Aeri's absence, but nothing seemed to fill the void.

You opened the box, running your thumb over the intricate design of the ring. It was a symbol of Aeri's love for you, a promise of the future you were meant to share. But as you gazed at the ring, you couldn't help but wonder if that future was still within reach.

The years had dragged on, each one a painful reminder of Aeri's absence. Your friends had tried to intervene, setting you up on blind dates and attempting to coax you back into the world of the living. But you had refused to budge, your heart still stubbornly holding onto the hope that Aeri would one day return to you.

Your parents had grown tired of your moping, their patience wearing thin as the months turned into years. They had urged you to move on, to find someone new and leave the past behind. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. The thought of loving someone else, of replacing Aeri in your heart, was unthinkable.

So, in a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of your hometown's expectations, you had made the decision to leave. You packed up your belongings and moved to a new city, one where no one knew your name or your story. It was a fresh start, a chance to begin anew and leave the pain of your past behind.

But as you stood in your new apartment, surrounded by unfamiliar walls and the echoes of silence, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were still waiting. Waiting for Aeri, waiting for the day when she would finally return to you. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you wondered if you would ever be able to move on.

As you settled into your new life, you were determined to start fresh and leave your past heartaches behind. Getting a job was the first step, and you were thrilled to land a position as a secretary for the CEO of a large and prestigious company. Your new boss, Ms. Yu, was everything you had hoped for and more. She was kind, compassionate, and genuinely cared about the well-being of her employees.

From the moment you started working for Ms. Yu, you were struck by her warm and approachable demeanor. She took a genuine interest in getting to know you, asking about your background and your goals. She made sure you felt welcome and supported, and you found yourself looking forward to coming to work each day.

As you worked alongside Ms. Yu, you began to notice the way she interacted with the other employees. She was always available to listen, offering words of encouragement and guidance whenever needed. She fostered a sense of community and camaraderie within the office, making everyone feel valued and appreciated.

Despite the demands of her high-powered position, Ms. Yu remained humble and kind, never once making you feel intimidated or afraid to approach her. You found yourself feeling grateful to work for someone like her, and you couldn't help but wonder what her story was. What had shaped her into the compassionate and empathetic leader she was today?

You nodded attentively as Ms. Yu briefed you on the meeting, taking mental notes of the details. You had worked with her on numerous occasions, but this meeting seemed particularly significant. The fact that she needed you by her side suggested that the stakes were high, and you were determined to provide her with the support she needed.

As you arrived at the five-star restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The opulent decor and impeccable service were a testament to the establishment's luxurious reputation. You smoothed out your dress, making sure you looked professional and composed, before following Ms. Yu to the private dining room where the meeting was to take place.

You stood beside Ms. Yu, sipping your glass of water as you waited for the important client to arrive. The private dining room was elegantly decorated, with soft music playing in the background. You checked your watch for what felt like the hundredth time, wondering when the client would show up.

Just as you were starting to get impatient, the door swung open and a figure stepped inside. Your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with the person, a face you never thought you'd see again. Your mind went blank, and you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

The person's eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You could feel the air thickening with tension, and your heart racing with anticipation. And then, your gaze drifted to the person standing beside them, and your world came crashing down...

You felt like you'd been hit by a ton of bricks. Mrs. Uchinaga? Married? The words echoed in your mind, refusing to sink in. You couldn't believe that the Aeri you once knew, the Aeri you had given your heart to, was now standing in front of you, married to someone else.

You tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but it was a struggle. Your eyes kept drifting back to Aeri, taking in the subtle changes in her appearance. She looked older, wiser, and yet, her eyes still sparkled with the same mischievous glint you remembered.

The woman beside her, her wife, seemed kind and gentle, with a warm smile that put you at ease. But you couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy, of resentment, towards this stranger who had taken Aeri's heart.

As Ms. Yu began to discuss the details of the meeting, you found yourself zoning out, your mind consumed by thoughts of Aeri and what could have been. You felt like you were stuck in a nightmare, unable to wake up from the pain and heartache that threatened to overwhelm you.

As the meeting drew to a close, you couldn't help but feel like you were in a daze. You had barely spoken a word, content to let Ms. Yu handle the negotiations while you struggled to process your emotions. Aeri's presence had thrown you off balance, and you couldn't understand why you were still feeling this way after all these years.

You caught Aeri's eye once, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of recognition, of understanding. It was as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, exactly how you were feeling. And then, just as quickly, the moment was gone, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it altogether.

But you didn't imagine the look of guilt and regret that crossed Aeri's face. It was a fleeting expression, one that she quickly masked with a neutral smile. But you saw it, and it left you feeling even more confused and unsettled. What did it mean? Was Aeri regretting her decision to leave you all those years ago? And if so, why was she here now, married to someone else?

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as Ms. Yu's hand rested on yours. It was a gentle, comforting gesture, but it caught you off guard. You nodded hastily, trying to play it cool, and assured her that everything was fine.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Ms. Yu asked, her voice low and concerned. She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress.

You nodded again, trying to reassure her. "Yeah, everything's fine, Ms. Yu. Just a bit...distracted, that's all."

Ms. Yu's expression softened, and she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "If anything's bugging you, I'm right here, okay? You can always talk to me."

You smiled weakly, feeling a bit flustered by her concern. "Thanks, Ms. Yu. I appreciate it."

Ms. Yu's hand lingered on yours for a moment before she turned her attention back to Aeri and her wife. You took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself, but your mind was still reeling from the shock of seeing Aeri again.

As the meeting drew to a close, Aeri's wife stood up, smiling politely. "It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Yu. And...Y/N," she added, her eyes flicking to you with a hint of curiosity.

Aeri stood up as well, her eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you quickly looked away, trying to break the spell.

Ms. Yu smiled warmly, standing up to shake hands with Aeri's wife. "The pleasure was mine. I'll have my assistant send over the contract details by the end of the day."

As the two women exchanged pleasantries, you couldn't help but steal glances at Aeri. She seemed...different, somehow. More poised, more confident. But there was still something in her eyes, something that hinted at a deeper emotion.

You felt a pang of curiosity, wondering what had brought Aeri to this point. What had she been doing all these years? And what was the story behind her marriage to this woman?

As the meeting drew to a close, Aeri's eyes locked onto yours, and she spoke up, her voice low and husky. "Y/N, I'd like to talk to you privately."

The word "privately" was emphasized, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Ms. Yu looked at you hesitantly, seeming to weigh her options. After a moment, she nodded. "Alright, I'll wait for you in the car. Take your time."

You nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. What did Aeri want to talk to you about? You stood up, smoothing out your dress, and followed Aeri out of the private dining room.

She led you to a more secluded area outside of the restaurant, a small garden surrounded by tall trees and vibrant flowers. The sound of gentle chirping and soft rustling of leaves filled the air, creating a sense of tranquility.

Aeri stopped in front of a small fountain, her back to you. You could see the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her posture. You felt a pang of curiosity, wondering what was going through her mind.

"Aeri?" you said softly, breaking the silence.

She turned around, her eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

"I'm sorry," Aeri said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry for what happened between us."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at her. You had waited so long to hear those words, to hear her acknowledge the pain she had caused you.

"Why did you leave?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

Aeri took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving yours. "I was scared, Y/N. I was scared of my feelings, of what they meant. I didn't know how to process them, how to deal with them. So I ran."

You felt a pang of sadness, of regret. You had loved her so much, and she had thrown it all away.

"Why are you married?" you asked, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Aeri's eyes dropped, and she took a deep breath before answering. "I thought it was what I wanted, what I needed. But the truth is, Y/N, I've never stopped loving you. I've never stopped thinking about you."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. Aeri still loved you? But what about her wife? What about the life she had built without you?

You felt a surge of anger and hurt as you confronted Aeri. "So all those years of waiting were for nothing?" you asked, your voice rising in indignation. "Five years of my life, wasted on waiting for you, and it was all for nothing?"

Aeri tried to interrupt, but you cut her off, your emotions pouring out of you like a dam breaking. "Y/N, please—"

"No, Aeri, you listen to me!" you exclaimed, your voice growing louder. "Do you have any idea how long you've made me wait? Thinking that you'd come back to me, that you'd make good on your promises? My friends tried to set me up on blind dates, but I refused, because I was holding out for you. My parents scolded me for moping around the house, telling me to move on, but I said no, I'm waiting for Aeri. And all this time, you were out here living your life with someone else?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you thought about all the years you'd wasted, all the opportunities you'd missed, all because of Aeri's broken promises. "I moved out of my hometown because the stares of pity were too much to bear," you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't take the constant reminders of what I'd lost, of what you'd taken from me. And now, you're standing here, telling me that you still love me? After all these years? After everything you've put me through?"

Aeri's face went pale, and she took a step back, as if she'd been physically struck. She knew she was wrong, that she'd hurt you deeply, and that there was no excuse for her behavior. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She just stood there, frozen in silence, as you poured out your heart to her.

The sound of your own voice, loud and angry, was like a slap in the face, shocking you out of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but your heart was still racing, your mind still reeling with the implications of Aeri's words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aeri spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I...I don't know what to say. I was wrong to leave you like that, to make you wait for so long. I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you."

You looked at her, searching for answers, but all you saw was regret and sorrow etched on her face. You didn't know what to say, either. A part of you wanted to forgive her, to take her back, but another part of you was screaming to run away, to leave her and her broken promises behind.

You stood there, your face buried in your palms, as the weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You had forgiven Aeri, but the pain and hurt she had caused you still lingered, a constant reminder of what could never be forgotten.

"I've forgiven you," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "But it's not something I can forget that easily."

Aeri took a step closer, her eyes filled with a deep sadness, but you immediately backed away, your hands still covering your face. You couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, of her trying to comfort you. It was too much, too soon.

You slowly lowered your hands, your eyes locking onto Aeri's face. You stared at her, your expression almost expressionless, as if you were trying to mask the turmoil that was brewing inside you.

"I need to go," you said finally, your voice firm but quiet.

Aeri nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Okay," she said softly. "I understand."

You turned and walked away, leaving Aeri standing alone in the garden. You could feel her eyes on you, watching you, but you didn't look back. You couldn't.

As you walked towards the parking lot, you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You had thought that confronting Aeri would bring you closure, but now you realized that it had only opened up old wounds.

You spotted Ms. Yu's car in the distance and quickened your pace, eager to escape the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. As you reached the car, Ms. Yu looked up at you with concern etched on her face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" she asked softly.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, I'm fine," you lied.

Ms. Yu looked at you skeptically, but she didn't push the issue. Instead, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Aeri and the past behind.

As you sat in the car, staring out the window, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would you be able to move on from Aeri, or would the memories of what could have been continue to haunt you? Only time would tell.

As you sat in the car, your mind began to wander, replaying the previous encounter with Aeri over and over again. You were oblivious to Ms. Yu's concerned gaze, too caught up in your own thoughts to notice her watching you.

The car ride seemed to pass in a blur, with you zoning out and losing all sense of time. You didn't even notice when the car pulled up to your front door, it wasn't until Ms. Yu spoke up that you snapped back to reality.

"We're here," she said softly, her voice gentle.

You looked up, feeling a bit disoriented, and saw that you were indeed parked outside your apartment building. You thanked Ms. Yu, feeling a bit embarrassed for zoning out on her, and stepped out of the car.

As you walked into your apartment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You were finally alone, free to process your thoughts and emotions without anyone watching. You freshened up, washing your face and changing into something comfortable, before collapsing onto your bed.

You plugged in your headphones and put on some music, letting the familiar melodies wash over you. You stared up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of numbness wash over you.

As the music played on, you found yourself getting lost in thought. You couldn't stop thinking about Aeri, about the way she had looked at you, about the things she had said. You couldn't help but wonder what could have been, what would have happened if she had stayed.

The music seemed to fade into the background as your thoughts consumed you. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to escape the tidal wave of feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

As the hours passed, you remained frozen in place, lost in your own thoughts and emotions. The music played on, a constant companion in your solitude, but you barely even noticed it. You were too caught up in your own world, too lost in the memories of what could have been.

As the hours passed, you slowly began to feel the weight of your emotions lifting. The music had changed, shifting from a melancholy tune to a softer, more calming melody. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, the room was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside your window. You rubbed your eyes, feeling a sense of grogginess wash over you. As you sat up, you realized that the music had stopped, and the room was quiet.

You looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment. It was a reminder that life went on, that even though Aeri was back in your life, you had moved on. You had built a new life, one that didn't revolve around her.

As you swung your legs over the side of the bed, you felt a sense of determination wash over you. You knew that you couldn't change the past, but you could control the future. You could choose to move on, to leave the memories of Aeri behind.

You stood up, feeling a sense of resolve wash over you. You walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. The lights twinkled like stars, a reminder of the possibilities that lay ahead.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. You knew that you would always carry a piece of Aeri with you, but you also knew that you were ready to move on.

As you turned away from the window, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. You knew that you would be okay, that you would find happiness again. And with that thought, you smiled, knowing that you were ready to start a new chapter in your life.

[moonyswolfie]

Study Session

A/N: So I just finished a torturously long exam session and this fic is a result of all the stress and mental breakdowns I've accumulated like Pokemons during this time. I actually wrote this piece between two of my biggest and most difficult exams, hence the N.E.W.T.s coming in to play. I hope you enjoy and if you relate, I'm so sorry! Remember that you are strong and no amount of academic stress can bring you down!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Masterlist

The table you were sat at in the Library was so crowded with textbooks and parchments that you could not see the wood any longer. Notes and cheat sheets, explanatory scrolls of parchments, quills and bottles of ink covered the entire surface. Hell, Lily even brought a dictionary. Merlin knew what use would a muggle dictionary have when it came to magical terms, but you learned a long time ago to never question her genius.

It was N.E.W.T.s season and to say that all 5 of you were stressed would be an understatement. James thought that once you passed your O.W.L.s, the N.E.W.T.s would not be as scary as everyone made them out to be. It was an exam session, a very long and tiresome and perhaps crucial exam session, but it wasn't Voldemort, right?

Wrong. The stress was growing by the hour and despite having two more weeks at your disposal to revise and memorise all you needed to, it didn't feel like enough.

But then again, was it ever enough? 

You've been preparing for the N.E.W.T.s since the beginning of the school year, forcing yourself to attend every class and take a ginormous amount of notes that you knew would probably end up useless or lost somewhere at the bottom of your book bag. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to pause. Failure was not an option.

So far you tackled Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, all of them easy and rather entertaining subjects, if you were to say so yourself. Right now however, you were stuck on the same Potions chapter for the past four hours and were just about ready to scream, cry, Avada Kedavra yourself or better yet, all of the above.

"Hey, Sirius?" 

He hums and looks up, noticing your twitching eye and the exasperation rolling off you in waves. 

"Y/N, are you okay?" 

The concern was palpable and it caught the attention of your boyfriend in an instant, yet Remus knew better than to pester you with questions right now. He was adamant about rest and health being your first priority, but considering his own overcrowded study schedule, he would be a hypocrite to point it out at the moment. He did, however, push a goblet of water in your direction, which you eagerly accepted and gulped down in seconds. You weren't exactly allowed food or beverages in the Library, but what Pince didn't know would not hurt her.

You thanked Remus and handed the goblet back, before turning to Sirius and taking a deep breath to regain your composure. 

"I have been rereading this chapter for the majority of our time here and I still don't understand the origins or the side effects of Amortentia when used for a longer period of time. No one really bothered to detail on them in any of our textbooks and I am not sure anyone ever subjected themselves to testing it out and then writing a memoir about it. However, Slughorn oh so graciously announced us that it might be included in the advanced exam topics. Do you happen to have anything on this? I know he mentioned some in class, but I didn't catch all of them."

"I think I do..."

He shuffles some parchments and knocks down some books, thus earning himself a stern look from Madame Pince, but ultimately finds the notes and hands them over.

"There you go, love."

You smile and thank him, humming while you scan the information. For such a chaotic human being, he had the neatest handwriting you've ever seen.

It doesn't take long for you to find the part about side effects, however there was nothing you didn't already write down yourself. Thankfully though, Sirius was the type of person to absently write down everything he heard so you found other helpful pieces of information. This was why you asked him for the notes in the first place, instead of Remus or James. Remus, much like yourself, only wrote the parts he was less certain of, whereas James didn't write anything at all. And Lily, Merlin bless her, she was a growing disaster when it came to writing information down. There was, contrary to her claims, no method to her madness.

You rolled up the parchment once you were done writing, yet kept it close, just in case you needed it again later. Sirius was studying for Transfiguration, so he wouldn't miss the notes anytime soon. Lily turned to you, ready to ask a question regarding a Charms lesson she was too sick to attend, but stopped and frowned, browsing the page spread out on the table in front of you.

"Y/N, why are your notes bilingual?" 

You turned and followed her gaze to the margins, specifically to the terminology you borrowed from Sirius...

You unscrolled his notes again and placed them next to yours, looking from one to the other with a bemused smile. Next to the name of the potion, you drew a little arrow and wrote amour et obsession, which would have been inconspicuous, had you not added une potion délicate and l'amour impossible devient possible.

There were a few more next to the ingredients list and some corrections made regarding the mode of preparation. As you scanned the two sets of notes, you noticed that his were entirely in French, while you half translated, half copied your added bits.

You didn't know what was funnier, that you mindlessly wrote the information in Frenchglish, or that you didn't notice it was in another language to begin with. 

English was your mother tongue, yet like every other pureblooded offspring, you were forced to attend a variety of language lessons to determine which ones you would be more skilled in. Romantic languages proved to be your forte, so you stuck with French, Italian and Latin. It wasn't easy in the beginning, seeing as they are all mere variations of the latter, therefore making them ridiculously easy to mix up and combine in the oddest of sentences, but you persevered and were now fluent in all four. 

Regardless, slip ups like the one you were tiredly staring at now were not unheard of. You were certain it was a testament to how tired you truly were. Perhaps Remus was right, you should rest more.

But then again, this was not a simple exam session. It was the one that would determine your entire future. You could sleep when you're dead.

"You write your notes in French?"

Sirius' head shot up immediatey, confusion written all over his face.

"Yes?"

By now everyone's attention was on your exchange, which deepened his frown. James looked like he missed everything until that very moment, Remus was watching his best friend with a raised brow and Lily was silently shaking her head, smiling. She didn't know how she ended up with the lot of you, but she knew she loved you dearly.

"French is my first language" Sirius added, as if that was all the explanation you needed.

Sadly, it did nothing to clear up the confusion. When neither of you said anything, he added "doesn't everyone take notes in their first language?"

Despite Remus being the only other person in your group who wasn't a native English speaker, therefore making him the best candidate to answer his friend, you all shook your heads, your faces betraying different levels of amusement and fondness. It was a rather endearing situation.

"I don't take notes in Welsh, if that's what you're asking. I don't think I can even translate half the things correctly. Besides, the spells are in Latin, so imagine how that would look on a piece of parchment."

You chuckled at the mental image of magical notes looking more like pages taken from that muggle author's book, Tolkien. Lily followed and you both received a glare and a pointed "shhh" from Madame Pince. Honestly, it was a wonder she wasn't kicking you out at this point.

"Wait a second" James turned towards his best friend "ALL of your notes are in French?"

Sirius nods. Poor baby looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"But don't you..." you frown, unsure how to formulate your question "I see you writing constantly. If the Professor speaks, you write. How..." you groan, burying your face in your hands and shaking your head "my brain hurts. You look as if you write down everything that is said in class, so I assumed that you do?”

You peek an eye up only to be met with Sirius chuckling silently.

“I do write mostly everything that is said in class, but first I summarize it and I guess it’s easier to summarize it in French. I find it easier if I reformulate the information because it shows I understood the concept, but to avoid learning something mechanically and forgetting it when I flip the page, I use my own words. The only issue is that sometimes I forget the word I need in English or there isn’t even a word in English for said thing to begin with. Thus French. And no one really asked me for my notes before you so I didn’t see any reason to put any effort in translating them. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it anyway.” he adds with an amused smirk, remembering Lily’s previous comment about your notes

You mask your chuckle with a cough and glance at your notes again.

“That is actually a great idea, Pads, I might have to start doing it myself.”

“NO!”

The lot of you was startled by James’ whisper-shout. You gave him a bewildered look, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Are you alright, big brother?”

“Don’t you dare. I know you and your disturbingly brilliant mind. If you start implementing this method, you’re going to write your notes in Latin” he squints, an accusatory look in his eyes “and where am I going to get my last minute notes from then?”

That was it, you couldn’t hold it in any longer if you tried. You burst out laughing, prompting an exaggerated “SHHH” to be directed your way.

“This is your last warning, if you cannot keep quiet, I suggest you move your little study session to your Common Room.”

Madame Pince was stern, yet you couldn’t fault her this time. You were loud and you certainly disturbed a few of your peers seated at nearby tables.

“Sorry” you whisper with a sheepish look.

You returned your attention to the table just in time to catch Lily placing a sweet kiss on James’ cheek, mumbling “don’t worry, my love, I won’t leave you noteless” which seemed to lift his spirits immediately. As grossed out as you were by their affection sometimes (what are sisters for after all?), you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. You were really happy he found his better half, even if it happened to be one of your best friends.

But after all, you did return the favour, did you not?

Remus’ hand found yours under the table and he squeezed it affectionately. You squeezed right back and smiled up at him, mouthing “I love you” and delighting in the beautiful smile that took over his face for the rest of the day.