#genuinely the line “i knew you in another life/you had that same look in your eyes” has me in a chokehold

[fel-09]

General Acacius x Isekai! Reader x emperor Geta

Words 1.4к

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Version on wadpad wattpad

Get into the movie?What a joke Part 4

The tepid wind blew leisurely, playing with your hair as if it had its own intentions. Along with the wind, rose petals took to the air, their scent so overpowering it almost suffocated with its richness. Your eyes lifted to the sky uncertainly as your fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your skirt. The situation was awkward—palpable, almost tangible, as if the tension could be tasted on your tongue. It was so overwhelming that you wanted to dissolve into the intoxicating floral scent, to vanish into its thick embrace.

At the same time, General Acacius stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the vast floral field before him. He hadn’t anticipated finding himself in such a situation—with you. Yet, one thing brought him solace: as in the first time you met, there were no prying eyes. This moment was his, unobserved, and for once, he could afford honesty.

He exhaled through clenched teeth, then turned to face you. His gaze caught on your profile, and he swallowed hard. Something about this image clung to his mind—a fleeting impression of someone else, with different features and a distinct nature. It was so ephemeral, so intangible, yet it lingered. Acacius shook his head, brushing the thought aside. He had come here for another reason, and he couldn’t allow his mind to wander.

Acacius extended his hand toward you, taking one of yours and gently running his fingers over your palm. There was a reverence in his touch—more genuine than before, more deliberate. Pressing his lips together, he took a step closer, the space between you narrowing. The air seemed to shout its disapproval, heavy with the weight of something unspoken, but he began to speak regardless.

“I must offer my apologies for… that incident,” he said, his voice low and steady. “When you fell into the water, I failed to take proper care of you. For that, I am ashamed. Please, forgive me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you blinked, caught off guard by his tone and the intensity of his words. Embarrassed, you averted your gaze. It wasn’t every day that a man with the appearance of one of your favorite actors apologized so intimately.

“It’s quite all right, Gener—” You stopped mid-sentence as he raised an eyebrow, clearly recalling the last time he had asked you to call him by his name. “Acacius. Just Acacius… I think it’s all right. You’ve done enough; you saved my life when no one else even lifted a finger to help me. For that, I’m profoundly grateful.”

Acacius looked at you as if seeing something entirely new. Your timid demeanor was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. It was uncharacteristic of Plavtiana—so much so that it startled him. You were aware of her reputation as headstrong, yet the exact nuances of her behavior eluded you. The historical accounts provided no personal details, only glimpses of her actions and their impact on the economy.

But there was one phrase in the chronicles, a line well-known among historians who studied her life:

“When Acacius was led into the arena, the bloodthirsty crowd suddenly fell silent. In the shadow of her box, Plavtiana sat motionless, like a statue. She made not a single gesture, yet everyone knew it was her hand that directed the general’s fate. Gladiators surrounded Acacius but delivered no blow. Instead, they slowly stripped him of his regalia—his helmet, his cloak, his breastplate. ‘Not a word,’ whispered Plavtiana, her lips barely moving, but fear reflected on every face. Her gaze spoke of power—not by law, but by the name of her father, so formidable that no one dared even whisper of her involvement. When the last sign of Acacius’s honor fell into the dust, she raised a cup of wine and smiled, a silent toast that seemed to say: ‘See, but see nothing.’”

No one understood the depth of her actions, why her treatment of Acacius was so cruel. Rumors swirled endlessly: some claimed she had loved him, only to be rejected; others said she was a deceitful woman who treated everyone with equal malice. Yet, with her father’s connections, she had no need for such enmity. Then… what was the reason?

You shuddered as Acacius’s voice pulled you back to the present.

“Still,” he continued, his tone quieter now, “I believe I’ve caused more trouble than I’ve resolved. The rumors still circulate throughout the city.” His head bowed slightly, a rare display of humility.

He was stunning—a man so striking that just looking at him made your heart race. In your eyes, he was nearly divine.

“As I’ve said before, everything is fine, Acacius,” you reassured him. “There’s no need to worry. Rumors come and go every week; soon enough, this will all be forgotten.”

But the rumors didn’t fade. They grew, each one building upon the last. People pieced together stories, seeking logic where there was none. For the days to come—and perhaps many more—no one intended to let this matter rest.

“In any case,” you said, breaking the tension, “I must take my leave. There’s much to do, so please excuse me.” You turned and began to walk away, exhaling deeply as you stepped onto the garden path. Behind you, Acacius watched your retreating figure, his gaze colder now.

He suspected much. A person like you wouldn’t have changed so easily—not without cause. If rumors had truly begun about you, you would have fought desperately to quash them, especially if they involved the two of you.

His eyes followed you, but he did not say goodbye.

_________

Several days had passed, and you remained confined within the walls of your home, painstakingly forwarding documents through messengers, avoiding any public appearances. For the fifth week in a row, you had refrained from engaging in imperial financial matters—a task you detested as much as the whispers that accompanied your name.

You sighed heavily, letting the weight of it all sink in. How had it come to this? When the letter arrived, its wax seal bearing the imperial insignia, your hands trembled.

The parchment was stern, the words sharp and unforgiving, their intent clear.

"To Flavinia Plavtia, presently occupying the position of Imperial Financial Overseer,

By the will of the Senate and the People of Rome, we hereby notify you that your conduct raises questions incompatible with the welfare of the Empire. In light of the circumstances, you are commanded to return to your post within seven days of receiving this letter.

Failure to comply will be interpreted as a resignation of your duties, resulting in immediate dismissal and subsequent investigation. The Emperor reminds you that service to Rome is the greatest honor, but also the greatest responsibility. Neglecting it is an affront not only to the Senate and the people but also to the gods who safeguard our order.

Signed by the decree of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla."

Between the harshly worded lines, the message was unmistakable: You have one more day before we discard you without remorse.

Your grip tightened around the parchment as you reread it, searching for some hidden mercy that wasn’t there.

"I have to go back," you muttered under your breath, clutching your head in frustration. The letter slipped from your trembling fingers, fluttering to the floor like a fallen leaf.

The walls of your home, once a sanctuary, now seemed suffocating. You stared down at the letter, its presence on the cold tiles taunting you with its finality.

[love-birds-stuff]

Thinking abt Tim again OUHGHUHB

[schlatt-love-bot]

yuck! - schlatt x reader

now listening: yuck - charli xcx 0:01❍─────── 2:19 ↻ ⊲  Ⅱ  ⊳  ↺

_______________________________________

Schlatt was never fond of “love,” the idea of falling in love or being in love with another person quite literally made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t like the commitment—it upheld a standard within his mind that he felt he would never be able to reach, like he wasn’t a good enough person to be ‘boyfriend’ material. Thinking about the pressure of a relationship, needing to be a support for another person other than himself, the planning of dates, the pressure to get married…it had put his stomach in knots regularly. He did, however, crave the physical aspects of being in love, the tender touches, light kisses…especially the sex aspect of it all. That’s how he got himself wrapped up in hookup culture, needing a sexual release without the expectation of flowers and dinner afterwards. 

When he was young and made this decision, he didn’t really care who he was hooking up with, his numbers weren’t that big on YouTube quite yet, and so he wasn’t really afraid of a subscriber meeting him off Tinder or Bumble and trying to expose him for his personal life online. As his numbers grew, though, his anxiety about being exposed as a one night stand man began to go through the roof. That’s where you enter the picture. You and Schlatt met each other during a particularly boring elective class you both needed to take to get your degrees in college, being partnered for a group project where you learned you both had the same outlook on the class and had similar hobbies. Having met Schlatt during his brief college days, you knew of his commitment issues and never judged him for his one night stand escapades. Schlatt appreciated the fact that you respected him and his lifestyle choices, most people (especially his mother) never understood why he couldn’t find it in himself to settle down. You, however, understood the inner fear he felt towards love and relationships, and you got why he relied so heavily on casual flings to meet his needs and desires.

When he started making it big as a streamer and on YouTube, it just so happened to line up with a time in your life when you became single, after a two-year long relationship you thought had good prospects of being together forever. Distraught, you came to Schlatt, who told you he knew that relationships were a bad idea, and that he tried to warn you about all that before you committed to that “dickwad”. 

“See, this is what’m talking about! Relationships are so fucking stupid…now you’re sittin’ ‘ere sobbing on my couch, for what?” He said, gesturing a hand towards you before bringing his glass of whisky up to his lips, rolling his eyes as he took a sip. You were laying on his couch, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks, glaring at him as you knew he knew you came over for comfort, not judgement. 

“Jesus…shut up, dude! I get you’re not into all that stuff…but I thought we had something real. He seemed so genuine…” You croaked, throwing a pillow at Schlatt as he raised his hands to defend himself. 

“Yeah, yeah…he was a real genuine guy..especially when he was genuinely between that other chick’s legs…” he laughed, picking up the pillow to place it back beside you, as he leaned down to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You huffed, crossing your arms as you looked away from him. 

“Not. Funny.” 

“I know it’s not. It’s seriously fucked up.” He said, continuing to wipe away the tears that came, rubbing small circles through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “I told you, you should just do what I do. There’s no pressure..” 

He left it at that, letting you ever so slowly get over your ex with his care and support. The entire time, though, you thought about what he had mentioned—to partake in his lifestyle, how there was no pressure. Soon enough, he came to you with his own proposition. 

“Listen…you don’t have to say yes. I know we’re friends, and I don’t want this to twist that all up…but…I can’t keep seeing randos on these dating apps…the last one started talkin’ to me about L’Manberg after I came on her stomach…” he said, his hand snaking around to his neck as he looked down at the floor, hearing you chuckle at his experiences. “Are you..asking me to be your hookup partner?” 

“If that’s whatcha wanna call it, toots…” 

“No strings attached, right? Just…meeting each other’s physical needs?” You asked, contemplating the idea in your mind. You would admit, you had always wondered how Schlatt was in bed, with the amount of times he had gone out and slept with someone, coming back to you with new stories of positions and other levels of spice you had never considered taking into the bedroom ever before. Not to mention, he wasn’t a bad looking guy, either. There was always a small voice in the back of your head telling you that he was attractive, and that you could change his ways. Plus…you needed your own distraction and to have your needs met while you got over your ex, so what better way than doing that with your good friend, Schlatt?

“Exactly. We still remain good friends…but when we have needs…we meet them, together.” He said, laying out an exact plan that would include rules and consent. 

“Oh, and of course. Not falling in love. Sorry, sweetcheeks, I’m not gonna be interested.” He laughed, writing down the last rule on this makeshift contract he began writing before scribbling his name at the bottom. 

“Of course…of course. Are you seriously making me sign this thing? It means nothing, legally…” You laughed, picking up the pen he slowly pushed towards you.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not gonna legally mean anything, but it’ll show us if things get…tricky…that we started things with the same intentions, right?” He had no idea why he felt the need to draft up this contract of sorts—he was firm in his belief that he would never, genuinely fall in love with someone, but there was a fear about this in the back of his mind. He had himself convinced that it would be you falling for him and ruining this whole ordeal. 

“I guess you’re right…” You said, your voice quiet as you scribbled your name on the bottom of the paper, before meeting his gaze. 

“So…when did you wanna start all this?” 

“Hmm, no moment quite like now, right, toots?” He laughed, scooting closer to you as he placed a hand on your cheek, “If that’s alright with you, of course…” 

His voice trailed off as you let out a giggle, rolling your eyes. You leaned in, kissing him on the lips, leaving him shocked that you initiated without hesitation. 

That was about 2 years ago now, and since then you and Schlatt had come nearly inseparable. The contract still stood—neither of you were to have feelings for one another, but were to support one another platonically other than in the bedroom. The only recent amendment to the contract was when Schlatt decided that the two of you should move in together, so that your hookups could be done on a more frequent basis, as it’s what he “needed.” You were already on the hunt for a new place to live, your old apartment becoming too expensive to live on your own in, so you agreed. 

As time went on, you felt yourself wanting more. Wanting the simple, quiet moments with Schlatt something more than just a fuck buddy. Wishing that when you were in the kitchen cooking dinner that Schlatt would walk by, wrap his arms around your waist, and whisper something nice in your ear. Instead, you were met with the occasional slap on the ass, and a joke about how you’d make a nice housewife, but not for him. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you find a husband, toots.” He would always joke, showing you that he knew you needed something more, something concrete and committed, but also communicating that he knew he wasn’t capable of providing you with those experiences. 

You hit a point where you couldn’t take it anymore, though, taking matters in your own hands. You knew the root of the problem was internal fear Schlatt felt, that he wasn’t a good enough person to be able to be committed to someone, and that he needed to improve himself before being able to commit to anyone. He had gotten so used to his hookup lifestyle, though, he felt no pressure to “improve himself” like he had explained to you years ago, though, and so you knew you needed to start adding that pressure on him. 

“Flowers? Who bought you those?” He said, seeing an arrangement in a vase on the kitchen counter as you were making something at the stove. 

“Oh, no one bought me those. I bought those for you.” You said, nonchalantly, putting down the spoon you were using to look over at his reaction. One of his eyebrows began to raise, as he inspected the flowers once more. 

“Respectfully, I don’t need any flowers, sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment. What’s with them?” You shrugged your shoulders, leaning against the stove with crossed arms. 

“No particular reason…just saw ‘em at the store and thought of you. That’s all.” You say, seeing a slight pink tint come across his cheeks. You could tell the gears in his brain were turning, he was trying to think of a logical, platonic reason for why you would do this, but he wasn’t able to come up with one. You returned your focus to the stove, your pot nearly boiling over now from being neglected. 

“Well…thanks, sweetcheeks. Guess ‘m gonna have to repay you for these later, hmm?” He growled, slapping your bottom before going into the fridge to pull out a drink, disappearing back into his office. You sighed, knowing you were going to have to try harder.

“C’mon, don’t you think it would be fun? We live by the mountains, afterall…”

“Stargazing? The fuck do I look like…your boyfriend?” He scoffed, pushing around the pasta you made on his plate, as you sighed, putting your head in your hands. 

“No! God, you’re taking it out of context,” you sighed, shaking your head, “Friends do this type of shit, too, idiot. I just thought it would be nice to get away for a weekend, away from your 17,000 different channels and business ventures, let you clear your head for a day or two before coming back to the chaos.” 

He began to think silently, leaving you hanging. He was trying to figure out your motive, slowly over the last few months he had noticed your attempts to break down his tough, outer shell, trying to get under his skin and grow closer to him. First, he thought you were trying to be a better friend, but now the line between friend and lover was getting blurred, and the more he thought about it, the sicker he began to feel. He was confused, himself, never quite feeling the way he felt about you with any other person before, none of the women he would see quite regularly made him feel this way, either. When he was around you, he felt…domestic. An urge to protect you, keep you safe, and he had no real clue as to why. The feeling in his chest as of late was so foreign, he often wondered if something was seriously wrong with him—he mentioned in passing the other day that he thought he needed to see a doctor, something about having a heart arrhythmia or something. Was it you blurring this line, or was he unconsciously blurring it himself? The idea made him sweat, and so he once again swallowed all the thoughts and tried his best to press forward. 

“Mmm, well..when you put it that way…it does sound kind of nice.” He refused to look up and make eye contact with you as he confirmed plans. You smirked to yourself, feeling as though your intentions were finally setting on him, and that soon enough you could, maybe, call him yours for real. 

“Good, cause I already booked a stay at a nice cabin, ‘bout 15 minutes from here. Go pack your bags and let’s get going!” You say, clapping your hands together excitedly, your things already packed since you were going, regardless of his decision. He began to laugh, shaking his head as he stood up, heading to his room. 

“What the fuck is up with them…” he muttered under his breath, going through his dressers to find a few t-shirts to throw in his bag. 

“Really tryna ruin a good fuckin’ thing, aren’t they…” he couldn’t help himself from feeling a bit angry. He was slowly beginning to realize that you were wanting more, you were getting yourself attached to him not only physically, but emotionally as well, and that you were trying to coax him into believing he was becoming emotionally invested in you as well. It was confusing, to say the least, because on one hand he truly felt as though he was turning a new, uncomfortable leaf—he found himself caring about you, how your day was, how you were feeling, and wanting to connect with you on a level he hadn’t ever connected with someone before, but at the same time he was so stuck in his ways that he didn’t want to think about you as anything more than friends with benefits. His confusion has now shifted to anger, anger that you were trying to get more out of this than he was willing to give, and anger at himself that he was even considering changing his ways for someone other than himself. He finally got his bag all packed, trying to think of this little get away as a break from work, rather than stressing himself out over his feelings and your own. 

He rejoined you in the living room, seeing you checking your phone, keys in hand and your own bag placed on the ground at your feet. You hadn’t noticed him standing there quite yet, rather engrossed in something you were reading on your phone. It was at that moment Schlatt realized his heartbeat was getting quicker once again, feeling butterflies beginning to stir within his stomach. 

Ugh, he thought to himself, I feel like I’m going to be sick…what the fuck is happening to me?

Almost as if you could hear his inner dialogue, you looked up from your phone, smiling at him standing there looking dumbfounded with his bag in his hands. You slid your phone in your back pocket as you picked up your own bag. 

“Ready to go? Let’s enjoy this weekend, hmm?” 

“Let’s get this show on the road…” his voice droned on, trying his best to make it seem as though he wasn’t looking forward to spending a weekend alone with you, not having to worry about anything else. 

Night began to paint the sky full of stars, as Schlatt fed the woodfire heater inside the cabin to keep you both warm overnight. You sat, wrapped loosely in a blanket on the couch watching him, a mug of hot chocolate sitting nicely in your hands. Since arriving at the cabin, you both already had a few rounds of slow fucking on almost every surface you could find available inside. It was an attempt in Schlatt’s mind to solidify that the only connect you two shared was sexual, not romantic in any way, but after the last round when you glanced up at him with a twinkle in your eye, he began to think it was game over—something in his perspective was shifting. You could tell he was working through something internally, usually after a round he would be a gentleman and help clean you up, make sure you’re comfortable before going back to whatever it was he was doing before, but after your last round, he stared you in the eyes for what felt like forever, his eyes widened before he shook his head, grumbling something about feeling disgusted, leaving you alone on the bed you had finally made your way to in the end. You sighed, running your hands through your hair, unsure of whether or not this trip away was going to work or end up in the way you were anticipating in your mind. With the way he was acting, you’d think you did something seriously sinister to him, and he wanted to get away from you forever. Getting yourself cleaned up, you now found yourself on the couch watching him from afar. 

He finally was satisfied with how the fire was going, enjoying the sounds of the crackling wood in the somewhat uncomfortable silence he had created between the two of you. He turned around to see you comfortably watching him, wondering what his next move was going to be. 

“You mentioned stargazing, didn’t ya?” He said, sitting gently next to you, afraid if he came on too strong he might say something he regretted, or you would do something that would solidify the change he was terrified of. 

“Mhm, wasn’t sure if you remembered, honestly…” your voice trailed off, sounding a bit hurt from having your pride bruised back in the bedroom. Him leaving you like that filled you with doubt—maybe he didn’t want to be more than friends with benefits, afterall, and you’ve just been living in a big bubble of delusion. 

“Of course I remembered…c’mon now.” He said, standing up as he gestured a hand to you, offering to pull you up from the couch. You placed your mug to the side, reaching up to grab his hand and stand up yourself. Silently, you followed him as you both adorned your jackets back on, slipping on some boots as Schlatt reached over and grabbed the blanket you were once wrapped up in. You both walked out of the cabin in silence, finding a secluded spot a little bit away from the cabin, but in a clearing large enough that you could make out the stars and their constellations from underneath the trees. Schlatt laid the blanket down on the grass, sitting down before looking back up at you. 

“Are you gonna come down here and join me, or are you just gonna stand there, toots?” He chuckled, patting the spot next to him on the blanket. You let out a breathy laugh, sitting next to him before glancing up at the sky. Admiring the stars together, the silence quickly became comfortable, not tense as it was a few minutes ago. When Schlatt laid down on his back, he tugged at your jacket, signalling you to join him, to which you quickly obliged. Your head on his chest, you could ever so softly hear his heart beating intensely, making a smile creep up on your face. 

“What’s that one called…?”

“Hmm…maybe Ursa Major? Kinda looks like a bear…doesn’t it?” He hummed, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as his other hand continued to point out different constellations above you. You couldn’t help yourself from looking up at him, seeing how the stars reflected in his eyes caused you to fall deeper than you ever thought possible. 

“What’cha lookin’ at?” He said, confused why your gaze wasn’t directed at the stars any longer. 

“Have I ever told you just how…handsome you really are, Schlatt?” You said, seeing his eyes grow a bit wider than before. He felt a now familiar heat creep across his cheeks, as he said a silent prayer that you couldn’t tell just how rosy his cheeks have now become. 

Fuck. Not this lovey dovey shit…

________________

EDIT: Part 1.5 is out now! Smut, and smut only, so reader discretion is advised! Enjoy~

[b14augrana]

Portrait

When Alexia decides to give into her curiosity and sit down at one of the street artist stalls stationed on a busy Parisian road, she leaves with something more special than a self portrait.

Alexia Putellas x reader

masterlist

Warnings: straight fluff and bad translations but dont worry its only short x

A/N: ALE RENEWED WE CAN ALL REJOICE!! 🙏

The strong Parisian sun beat down on the heads of locals and tourists alike as they walked down the crowded streets. You were perched on a stool, staring intently at your canvas as you gently painted the smile lines of a lovely old lady that stopped by your stall.

You loved your job for this very reason. You knew how hard it was to love yourself from your own perspective; you hoped to do every individual person’s beauty justice with your paintings.

Of course that wasn’t enough income on its own so every morning you found yourself in one of the local bakeries either working behind the scenes or at the front counter. Baking and painting were jobs you loved and found so similar because they both resonated with your desire to indulge in art wherever you could find it, and to you they were the simplest forms of art.

“And… I’m done. Here’s your finished portrait, madame,” you said with a smile, lifting the canvas off the easel and gently setting it into the woman’s arms.

“Je ne peux pas te remercier assez, ma chérie ! C'est beau, merci,” she replied, admiring it with tear-brimmed eyes hidden behind her glasses. You said your goodbyes and watched her walk off with a grin on her face, and then you picked up a fresh canvas and placed it on your easel.

You didn’t have time to shake your head at the many smudges of paint on your clothes as another person approached you.

“Hola!” a woman’s voice spoke, making you look up curiously. Standing before you was a blonde woman smiling slightly, gesturing to the stool behind the easel. “May I sit?”

“Of course,” you nodded, returning her smile and swirling your paintbrush in some fresh water as you prepared to paint her. “You’d like a painting, no?”

“Yes please. Also, forgive me for saying hola — I forget that I’m not in Spain,” she laughed, inciting a giggle from you.

“It’s okay. I do the same when I’m outside of France,” you added, dipping the paintbrush into some fresh paint before grazing the canvas. “So, you’re Spanish.. what’s your name?”

“Alexia. I’m here for a holiday, because I’ve finally got some time off work,” she explained with a huff. You smiled behind your easel, painting the woman’s chiseled bone structure with intricacy as you added to her face.

You liked her already. You had barely said anything to her, but something about her was genuine.

“Are you with anybody?” you asked, curious to know more about her. She nodded her head, “Only two other people, my friends Lucy and Ona. They’ve gone on a wine tasting date, which is why I’m here.”

You laughed softly as you rinsed your paintbrush. “And you? Do you have anyone to go wine tasting with?”

“Next question,” Alexia responded, smiling through laughter. You began to paint her eyes and faintly outline her nose.

The rest of the time you spent painting every detail of her face flew by as you two talked and got to know more about each other. You learned that she was a professional footballer and lived in Barcelona, which you thought was very cool. She asked about your life and you told her that you were a born and raised Parisian who spent the rest of her days at home or in the bakery. You weren’t really concerned about yourself though; you were busy looking at her, and not for the purpose of the painting.

When you had completed the last strand of hair and placed the last freckle on her portrait, the sun had dried most of it already. As she stood up and picked her purse up, you flipped the canvas around and scrawled something on the back with a slight smile.

“There you go. Thank you, Alexia,” you said, handing her the painting. She gasped quietly as she admired it, and she looked at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. “Thank you, chica!”

Even after she pulled away, her perfume clung to your skin like glue. It smelled sweet but not overwhelming… like coconut and caramel with an undertone of musk and vanilla hints. It smelled exactly how you imagined it to smell.

As you said goodbye, you didn’t reach for a fresh canvas. Alexia turned away, holding the newly painted canvas in her hands with her head down, her eyes fixed on it. She stood stagnant for a moment, scoping out every detail, and then she turned it over.

“Llámame, hermosa :)” was written on the back, followed with your phone number and a quick sketch of a flower bouquet. She immediately turned her head to glance at you over her shoulder, but you were occupied with someone else.

When she turned back around, a smitten smile was plastered across her face and she couldn’t help but feel giddy to get back to her hotel.

After another second, you looked up from your canvas, your eyes completely skipping the person sat in front of you and wandering over to the direction that she had walked in, watching the blonde woman disappear down the street.

“Est-ce que tu vas peindre ou quoi?” an irritated voice snapped from behind your easel.

“Désolé!”

[moopiter]

What Do You Get the Man Who Has Everything?

Homelander hates his birthday, fake pleasantries and gifts, but he loves his secret significant other. Homelander X GN Reader, 1.4K little drabble.

Ao3

---♡︎---

Cheers and applause ring out from the TV.

It’s Homelander’s birthday.

Even if it’s a day Vought handpicked for ultimate viewership, at the very least it’s still his day.

You’d watched the celebration cross-legged in front of the TV, taking in every detail of his expression. It was dark now, of course. Normally he would’ve snuck off to your apartment by now, but these were peak viewership hours. Your heart clenched, trying to will some semblance of happiness into him across the city, wishing you could tell him he wasn’t alone.

He knew you were watching. His little secret he kept hidden away, tucked inside an unsuspecting apartment in Manhattan.

He’d smile, wave, and say his little lines like the good poster boy he was. Well, until he could sneak away to his little slice of heaven and get away from it all.

You tied off the last bit of yarn in your nimble fingers. It was plush and soft.

The little stuffed eagle you’d been pouring your heart into momentarily blocked your line of sight of the TV as you held its delicate body in front of your eyes.

What do you get the man who has everything at his fingertips, and nothing at the same time?

Do you get him something one of his assistants could bring him in a second? Soap or cologne he’d only pretend to like? Another nonsensical book he wouldn’t really read? There wasn't any good options, nothing truly heartfelt. 

It took weeks to crochet, and learning how to do it was no easy feat.

“Thank you again, everyone, for the birthday wishes! But I want all of you to remember—you're the real heroes!”

Your eyes glanced behind the plush creature you’d made to the TV.

His eyes were sad even though he smiled so brightly.

He hated today; he always did. But it was attention, and he’d take it, even if it only rubbed salt farther into his wounds.

Never knowing his real birthday, and never getting to have a genuine, sincere celebration made it hard to put on a fake one.

It was his first one since he’d taken a liking to you, and you’d fix that. Looking back on all the stupid televised celebrations they'd put on for him for years, it made you sick thinking about how truly alone he must've felt all those years before you'd met him.

You sighed as you grabbed the doll needle, threading it with ease. It slid past the soft yarn like nothing and hooked through the little black eyes you’d picked out. You worked gingerly, love in each stitch.

The little crochet eagle came to life in your hands.

His charismatic voice brought the show back to the forefront of your mind. “-Goodnight everyone!” He fake smiled and waved as he finally walked off stage, but it quickly turned into a scowl just before the camera panned back to center.

Yep. That guy was totally fired.

You hugged the little eagle close to your chest as you stood, smiling quietly to yourself.

It fit inside the little box you’d picked out snuggly.

You set the package on the little table in front of the couch, turning to fluff the pillows and blankets you’d set out to make the night as comfortable as possible.

The program behind you switched to Cameron Coleman. Homelander’s birthday special was officially over.

You absentmindedly turn off the TV off with a click.

It took a lot to keep your fluttering heart under control. Butterflies.

He’d be home soon; his real home.

This wasn’t somewhere he had to be someone else. It took a long time to get it through to him, but he didn’t put the fake smile on for you anymore. He came to you vulnerable, jealous, angry. It didn't matter if he was soaked in blood or soaked from the rain, you’d always understand.

The unmistakable ruffle of his cape caught your attention. You looked up just as his red boots graced the concrete balcony on the other side of the glass.

He was smiling, but those blue eyes of his were still sad.

You hurried over to the door, you’d fix that.

The dull throb in his chest eased as he smiled back at you earnestly.

You smiled brightly as you flung the door open, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside the little sanctuary you loved sharing with him. “Happy Birthday!”

The weight of the world left his shoulders as he crossed the threshold, letting you drag him along.

He always loved your forwardness about things.

You gave him understanding eyes as you led him over to the soft space you’d made for him. “How was it? Did you have fun today?”

“You know it’s not really for me.” He sighed as he gathered his cape to the side and sat down. It really wasn’t, none of it was.

You smiled, gently cupping his face for a moment to gaze into his eyes. “I know, I know.”  

The rest of the world would never see the suffering he hid so carefully. He’d shown his pain and loneliness to you alone, the only one who’d ever hold him like this. He loved attention, but the care and compassion you always showed him was beyond any of that. For you, he was a gentle giant, pliant in your hands.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as your fingertips left his jaw, moving to grab the little gift from the table to lighten things up a little. “But I am! Aaaaaand-” You held the modest box out happily. “So is this!”

He smiled genuinely. You’d even lined the box with cheap sheets of zinc. Good thinking.

“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckled as he took the fragile thing in his hands, setting it in his lap.

Of course he could tell; he could read people better than they could read themselves.

You sighed as you sat down beside him. “I just really hope you like it.”

He scoffed. “You don’t have to be nervous! I’ll love it. And the zinc—now that was a good touch. I haven’t gotten a surprise gift like this since... well, that wasn’t exactly a gift."

His thoughts would go anywhere but where either of you wanted them to.

“Stop thinking! Open it!” You gestured to the box with a laugh, glancing back and forth between his expression and the box excitedly.

Your heart beating faster in anticipation was music to his ears.

He’d play nice and give you what you wanted. Besides, he wanted to know why on earth you could possibly be so nervous about something so trivial.

He lifted the little cardboard lid, the little box slipping out from underneath it and landing back down in his lap ceremoniously.

A little pair of black eyes stared back up at him.

Your little heart was pattering away like a rabbit as you waited for his reaction.

He scrunched his brows and smirked, gently pulling the little guy from the box and holding it awkwardly, turning it in his hands. “Where’d you get this little guy?”

You shifted a bit, twiddling with your thumbs. “I made it for you.”

He paused for a moment, still holding it out in front of him.

“You—you made this?” He smiled, looking over the bundle of soft yarn and stuffing with a newfound appreciation as he looked over the loops of yarn.

You nodded happily.

His eyes weren’t so sad, but he still seemed wary. “You really made this just for me?”

You laughed as you nodded again. He always needed reassurance, but you were always ready to give. Your heart wasn’t hammering anymore, just beating sweetly as you looked at him with those caring eyes like always. “Just for you. Do you like it?”

He seemed so taken aback it was almost funny.

“Like it? I love it! I-I don’t even know what to say. This is… perfect.” He smiled as his eyes finally met yours. He’d never had a stuffed animal, let alone one so special. “Thank you.”

You smiled ear to ear as you practically jumped on him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “I’m so happy you love it so much!”

He laughed lightheartedly. “This is the best gift I think I’ve ever been given.”

You laughed sweetly, snuggling against him just a little tighter.

He leaned back, pulling you against him with one arm and holding the little stuffed eagle protectively in the other, matching your genuine smile as you both relaxed into the couch.

“I’ll cherish it forever. Just like you.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Neil Perry x Reader

You were hunched over a pile of scripts, watching Neil Perry give another, well, unique interpretation of a soliloquy. His voice cracked with emotion, but… in all the wrong places.

"To be or not to be…" Neil began, attempting Shakespeare with the passion of a man on a mission. Unfortunately, that mission seemed to involve single-handedly destroying the Bard’s finest work.

You let out a long sigh, head in your hands. "Neil, what was that?"

He stopped mid-line, flashing you a sheepish grin. "Was it really that bad?"

You nodded gravely. "Like… epically bad."

Neil chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Great. Then I’ll take it from the top?"

"For the fifteenth time today?" you groaned, shaking your head. "I don’t know how you’re going to pull this off."

"I have you," he said, flashing a confident smile.

That line always got to you. Even if he was hopeless at this, his heart was in the right place. So, despite every fiber of your being telling you to give up and leave him to his stage fate, you stayed. You spent hours together in the Dead Poets' Cave, rehearsing line after line, hoping, praying for a miracle.

A few days later, you were leaving the house when you spotted your dad, Mr. Keating, all dressed up and heading for the door.

"Where are you going, Dad?" you asked, curious.

He glanced back at you with that trademark mysterious grin. "Oh, didn’t you know? Neil has a play today."

Your brain went into overdrive. Neil? The Neil Perry who couldn’t deliver a line to save his life? The same Neil who, just yesterday, had confused Hamlet’s death scene with some kind of impromptu interpretative dance?

"Uh… what are you talking about?" you asked, baffled. "Neil’s terrible at acting. I’ve spent hours tutoring him, Dad. Hours. He's a lost cause!"

Mr. Keating just raised his eyebrows and gave you the look. The one that said he knew something you didn’t. The one that made your stomach drop with realization.

Oh.

Oh.

"Wait…" you stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you telling me—Neil’s been… pretending to be terrible this whole time?"

Keating chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "He wanted more time with his tutor."

Your face flushed instantly. "I—I’m gonna kill him!" you sputtered, grabbing your coat in a rush. "He’s been wasting my time on purpose?"

Keating just smiled knowingly. "I think you’ll want to see the play first."

You stormed into the auditorium just in time to catch Neil on stage, and what you saw nearly knocked you off your feet. There he was, front and center, commanding the stage with ease, delivering lines with power and grace. His timing was impeccable, his emotions raw and palpable. The audience was absolutely enchanted. He was… perfect.

Your mouth hung open in shock. You had spent hours trying to get him to say one line right, and here he was, playing his role like he was born for it. You could barely process what you were seeing.

As the curtain fell and applause erupted around you, you pushed your way backstage, still fuming but also feeling a tiny bit impressed. Neil had some explaining to do.

When you found him, he was in his dressing room, still in costume, grinning like a little kid who had just gotten away with something massive.

"You…" you pointed an accusing finger at him, words failing you. "You’ve been acting like you couldn’t act?"

Neil smirked, casually leaning against the wall. "It worked, didn’t it? We got to spend more time together."

You sputtered, torn between being completely exasperated and, well, flattered. "Neil!"

He stepped closer, his grin softening into something more genuine. "I couldn’t help it. I needed an excuse. You’re a great tutor, by the way."

Your face flushed hot, and you crossed your arms, trying to hold onto your anger. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you’re still here," he teased, his voice warm and playful.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile creeping onto your face. "So, let me get this straight—you’re actually good at this? You just made me sit through hours of you being awful on purpose?"

He nodded sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "I might’ve… exaggerated my incompetence. A little."

"A little?" you exclaimed, laughing despite yourself.

Neil stepped closer again, his eyes soft with affection. "It worked, though, didn’t it? I got to spend time with you. And… I think it’s safe to say I learned more than just acting."

You shook your head, half annoyed, half charmed. "You’re ridiculous, Neil Perry."

He beamed at you, stepping even closer, the warmth of his presence making your heart flutter. "But you like me that way, right?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but Neil leaned in, catching you off guard as he whispered, "Admit it."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, trying to maintain the upper hand. "Fine. But next time, maybe just ask me to hang out. You know, like a normal person?"

Neil laughed, the sound rich and contagious. "Deal. But you have to admit, my method was more fun."

You couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension evaporating as you finally allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. “I hate how much I like you.”

He grinned, clearly thrilled by your confession. "Likewise."

The two of you stood there for a moment, grinning like fools, and you couldn't help but think that, even if he'd tricked you, it was worth it.

After all, he really did put on one heck of a show.

[6sakusa]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Content: FWB relationship, missionary, fingering, mating press, creampie, riding, jealous!eren, him just being soft tbh.

A/N: Not proof read and written on a whim sorry not sorry.

Summary: Eren Jaeger is genuinely incapable of doing friends with benefits, he always seems to have problems with the ‘no strings attached’ part of it all.

You knew some of Eren’s friends and he was pretty renowned around campus, so the day you met him you can believe that you were pleasantly surprised to say he lived up to the hype and more in terms of his gorgeous face. Surprisingly he took quite an interest in you, the pretty girl with Jean’s arm slinged around her shoulders? Oh he’s got to know more. When he got your number he was elated and as expected, it didn’t take more than a few text exchanges before getting you in his bed but something about this was different. Maybe he was just pussy-whipped but he genuinely, for the life of him, couldn’t stop fucking you.

“T-Too much.” You manage to get out through your moans, it’s practically incoherent but by the way you’re clawing at his back while he’s balls deep inside, hammering you in missionary while he presses light kisses to your collarbone even has him surprised. He pulls away from you, slightly, just slightly to your earlobe where he whispers, “You can take it for me, can’t you?”

And of course you do, but the strangest part is that even when Eren fills up the condom he can’t stop, pushing your legs against your chest and fucking you in all kinds of devious angles that have you falling apart in seconds. “Fuck I can’t stop, can’t believe I wasn’t in this pussy sooner.” He whines out against your ear, pushing the both of you into overstimulation countless times.

It’s safe to say you were spent after that but to his your surprise and his, the next day he’s calling you again, asking if you wanted to come over. There was one rule that Eren Jaeger lived by, never fuck the same girl twice. It was simply because he didn’t want to give them the wrong impression, he wasn’t looking for anything serious, anything along the lines of a relationship was an absolute no-go, so he thought it was best to avoid any remnants of that all together. But yet he’d somehow convinced himself there wasn’t any harm in going at it with you again, you were his best afterall.

By the third time he told himself it would be the last time, that was a lie. As hard as he tried to get you off of his mind it wasn’t possible, sex with any other girl felt mediocre after you which left him with only one choice: Running back to you.

“So what do you think about us making this a thing?” He stops halfway through unbuttoning your top, he’s got you trapped underneath him, pupils blown out from your makeout session from just seconds ago.

“A thing?” You raise your eyebrow, a light chuckle escapes your lips in amusement from such cryptic language and for some reason it pulls at Eren’s heartstrings. What was this overwhelming urge to hear you do it again suddenly?

“Yeah a thing.” He repeats, “Like we fuck, no strings attached.” He asks nervously, fumbling with the next button on your shirt a little nervously.

“Are you asking for friends with benefits?” Your expression contorts into one of disbelief, for a second he thinks he’s messed this up and he’s about to lose the best sex he’s had in his entire life until he hears another laugh escape from your lips. “Okay, no strings attached.”

And just like that his lips are back on yours again.

Turns out you really do become friends, you talk constantly on the phone which though, does usually lead to sexting over the following weeks you become closer and closer to one another. The next time Eren tries to get with a new girl his mind wanders back to you, your pretty face, your gorgeous body, your cute little laugh. And the moment he gets his cock out to fuck her it won’t get hard, like physically it can’t. That was definitely one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life, not only was his mind being stupid but now he couldn’t even control his dick when it wasn’t about to be inside of you. That day he left that girl very disappointed, a huge blow to his ego and perhaps reputation but for some reason he finds himself outside your door instead of his own dorm he was planning on going home to.

And surprise surprise, the moment he sees your face, peering up at him with your head cocked into the side in confusion as to why he’s showed up without a word at this time, oh he’s rock solid. Naturally, to make up for such an intrusion he fucks you crazy, enough that it takes twenty minutes for you to regain your ability to speak afterwards. He’s convinced he’s in a slump right now, soon enough he’ll get over this and be back to getting around with whatever women he wants and then he’ll be able to end your agreement once and for all. Yep, that was the plan.

“How are you gonna get home?” You raise an eyebrow, walking out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in your mouth. He can’t help but laugh at you, no one would’ve known how hard you were getting fucked just an hour prior. “You didn’t drive here right? So you left your car.”

“I can walk.” He pulls up his sweats back up, looking at you in a manner that he probably shouldn’t be.

“You can stay the night if you’d like.” You wave him off, wandering back into the bathroom to finish off. It takes him much longer than he should to respond but he does, eventually.

“Here?”

“What?” You laugh, cocking your head to the side. “You don’t like my place?”

“The beds a little small.” He jokes, peering down at the same thing you just fucked on. You roll your eyes, grabbing yourself some fresh pyjamas from your wardrobe. “Well I’m sorry that it wasn’t designed for a six foot four man.”

“Don’t do that, you’ll boost my ego.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Through all the jokes between the two of you his head is screaming at him that this isn’t a good idea, but when you show him your favourite blanket that he wouldn’t be allowed to use he’s convinced of two things. You’re way too cute to say no to, and the fact that you won’t share your things with him is a good sign. This isn’t intimate, it’s nothing but a good friend doing him a favour.

There just wasn’t one thing he’d anticipated, how much he would love cuddling you in your bed. This was detrimental for him because now he craved it after sex. The next time he was finished with you he opened his arms out once you’d cleaned yourself up, albeit awkwardly considering he’s never consciously done this before.

“What?” You look at him with confusion, your expression only deepens when he frowns, “You hungry or something? We can order food.”

“Yeah.. what are you up for?” He mutters out, closing his arms instantly. That was the last time he decided to not have the courage to ask you to cuddle because he felt strangely empty afterwards.

Obviously, you’re a bit surprised when the emerald eyed devil in all his six foot glory stutters when mumbling, “C-Can we cuddle?”

“Huh? You wanna cuddle?” You almost snort, Eren had obviously avoided anything on any lines of being intimate, the second the two of you had a conversation unrelated to sex and he realised that he would waste zero time throwing an inappropriate joke in. Just a reminder of what your relationship with eachother entailed, nothing more.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He pouts, rubbing his temple with two of his fingers lightly. You seemed surprised and he definitely felt embarrassed.

“I just didn’t expect it from you.” Your furrow your eyebrows, realising that oh, Eren Jaeger was actually being serious when he was asking you to cuddle right now. You seemed reluctant and that’s when he knew that you were in deep in this agreement as he was. Fuck, you might even be worse. You’ve never proposed to do anything intimate and now you even looked like you were about to flatly reject his proposition, how had he let it come to this. There was only one solution, pull out the big guns and guilt trip you out of his embarrassment, “I thought we were friends with benefits, don’t humans need physical touch to survive? That sounds like a benefit to me.” He folds over his arms, all whiny with pink littering his cheeks.

“Okay okay.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, knowing that he could go on until tomorrow if you didn’t stop him. You make your way over to him on the bed, allowing him to engulf you in his arms. He relishes in his victory with a smug expression on his face for a few minutes until you randomly say. “I can’t believe you like this.”

“What? You don’t?” There’s an overwhelming feeling of worry in his chest that he can’t quite discern, the feeling that you may not like him past being friends. But why did he care about that? He shouldn’t, he didn’t like you past being friends? Right? So why had he still not fucked another girl in months? Why was he finding it so hard to get it up without you? He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and does what he does best, makes it into a game. Now he was on a mission to get you to fall in love with cuddling, he had his arms around you every chance he could get. Especially after sex until it became a routine with the two of you and you couldn’t fall asleep in his arms otherwise. It was nothing more than mission accomplished he told himself.

At that point the dynamic of your friendship started to change, he couldn’t help the urge to want to see you more often which meant that he invited you out with his friends as much as he could. And he couldn’t regret something more because now Jean had you wrapped around his stupid finger, laughing at all his jokes while you brushed your hands on his chest. God, it made Eren sick.

What was worse it when Jean started sneaking into your sex life, that was his final straw.

Ren: Wanna come over? I’ve got your favourite cookies

You: Extremely tempting offer but im out right now, save them for me?

Ren: Where?

You: Jean’s place

Ren: You never told me you were going there lmao

You: ?

You: Was I supposed to? You don’t tell me when your with other girls

Except he was never with other girls these days. So the next time he saw you he asked straight up if you and Jean had sex. You gave him a strange glance but nodded reluctantly, not knowing if that was actually any of his business or not.

“Oh.” He responds, playing with his fingers, an excuse to do anything but focus his gaze on your pretty eyes.

“Is that.. a problem?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No.” He says so quickly that you’re almost shocked, like he’s so sure of his answer that he doesn’t even question it. “We’re not exclusive so do whatever you want.” He scoffs, it’s more of a reminder to him than it is to you but you can’t help but wince at his harsh tone. It’s just like Eren to cause an argument because he doesn’t have it in him to convey his real feelings. So the next thing you know he’s rambling about STDs, how you having multiple sexual partners isn’t safe for him and how the two of you should break off your agreement. None of it made any sense considering Jean was the only guy you’d fucked in months other than Eren and you knew nothing about what Eren got up to sexually either. Anyway, it was safe to say you stormed out of his place that day in tears and fuck did he feel so bad that he wanted to cry himself. Especially when he finds out that the first place you went after that was to Jean’s house. God he was so mad at himself.

After some time when he finally builds the courage, and albeit after a drink or two he turns up at your door step, it’s a heinous time to be banging down your door, he knows. Of course, your roommate isn’t happy about it either but when he’s telling you how sorry he is and how much he misses sex with you it only takes a few more sweet, yet filthy words to get you writhing under him once more in your bed.

“So sorry baby.” He reminds you as his hands pull your lace panties down a little, he really did miss this so much, missed you too, such a pretty sight. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?” He asks teasingly, running his fingertips up and down your sensitive thighs.

You nod slowly, your breath hitching as he sports you his signature grin. You haven’t seen that in a while and you know exactly what it means. He wastes no time sticking his finger inside of you, he’s memorised your body by now, the way you like to be touched, your little reactions to what he does, the exact angle that his finger needs to hit to get you to cum in under a minute. “Shit.” You fist his top, pulling him down into a messy kiss.

“You like that?” He asks against your lips, his fingers continue to work magic on you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, pulling away slightly while he begins to work into you much quicker than before, it’s enough to have you moaning under his touch. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“Missed you so much.” You breathe out, he rewards you by pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles while his fingers pump in and out of you. You’re falling a part so quickly and you’re easily reminded that no one can make you feel as good as Eren can.

“Yeah?” He breathes, “You gonna show me? Gonna show me how much you missed me?”

You nod and he makes a negative sound, completely unsatisfied with your answer. “Gotta say it gorgeous.” He whispers against your earlobe, “You know how I am, wanna hear you speak.”

“I’ll show you.” You manage to say between moans, your name is on the tip of his tongue and the familiar feeling is in your stomach once more but he doesn’t let you cum, slowing down once he recognises the way your cunt feels when you’re about to spill over the edge.

“Not yet.” He laughs, “Tell me, how are you going to show me?”

“Gonna let you fuck me, I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you want.” You whine, grabbing onto his toned arms in protest, hoping that it will be enough to get him to let you cum.

“You promise?”

“I promise ‘Ren.” You nod, he pulls his fingers out of you and stuffs them in your mouth before putting them in his own. It’s filthy really, no one would ever believe the two of you were anything more than fuck buddies but you loved it, you loved that out of all people Eren could be your dirty little secret.

The next second he has his hands pressing your knees against your chest, you practically yelp in surprise when he pushes his cock inside of you without warning. “Then take this fucking dick like a good girl, can you do that for me?” He doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his pace, he’s pounding into your mercilessly enough so that lewd sounds are filling the air that can’t even be disguised with either of your moans. “Don’t need to prep you properly right? Considering you’ve been fucking other guys.”

You tighten around him at his words, he’s being so mean and you hate when Eren’s mean to you, except in the bedroom, God is it a turn-on. “Oh you like that? Fucking slut.” It was becoming more and more obvious that Eren was in fact mad about you and Jean, this entire thing was a jealousy fuck put simply and my was he putting on his best performance.

The kiss he pulls you into the next second is such a contrast to his dominating demeanour, it’s so gentle and sweet, the type that you give to someone you love and for some reason you can’t help but reciprocate it. He leaves light kisses on your neck, knowing that you would never let him mark you, trust him, he’s tried. The second his lips pull away from your body he’s back to being mean again, picking up the pace even more than before. “Eren— fuck.” You can’t even get out your words.

“Feels good?” He asks, usually he doesn’t like it when you only give him a nod but he knows that right now he’s fucking you absolutely stupid and there’s nothing else you can do. “Who else can make you feel this good huh?” He slows down his strokes, wanting a genuine answer from you as he wraps his hand around your throat. “Tell me, who else?”

“No one.” You whine as tears prick your eyes, he has no mercy for you, not a care in the world as the headboard of your bed slams against your wall. You’d have to apologise to your roommate later. “That’s right, no one.” His thumb brushes your cheek lighty. “So whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Correct, mine.” He grins smugly, he knows it doesn’t really count considering he can get you to say anything as long as he’s balls deep inside but still, for some reason the sentiment means a lot to him. "You're being so good for me, you wanna cum?"

"Y-Yes please." His expression darkens for a second and he's worried that the time away between the two of you has meant that you'd forgotten the rules of the bedroom.

"Yes please, what?"

"Yes please daddy." You correct yourself instantly and he grins with satisfaction, being nice enough to press his thumb against your clit one more. Rubbing it in soft circles while he bucks into you faster until you're clamping down against him.

“Fuck missed this pussy so much, missed you so much." He says in pure ectcasy as he throws his head back. And for someone who was banging on about safe sex the last time you saw him it's surprising that he had zero reserves about fucking you raw and then cumming inside.

He releases spurts of cum into you and it's almost shocking how much he fills you up, when you were first fondling with his balls tonight you told him how heavy they felt while grinding on his thigh. You'd figured he hadn't fucked anyone in a while, now you could confirm that with the way white thickness was trailing out of you. For the first time, Eren does all the things he never used to before and you can't help but think it's so gentleman-like. The way he rushes to clean you up, not leaving you to do it yourself, the bath he runs for the two of you, the way he changes your bedsheets and for once how he isn't running off home the second he's nutted. Instead he has you in his arms and even more shockingly stays the night.

One thing he hadn't anticipated with all your time away was how much your relationship with Jean had progressed. It was only when he woke up the next morning, seeing you in your pretty little dress and face full of makeup that he wanted to ruin so badly that he realised. "Oh finally, you're awake." You spin your legs in his direction from the chair you sat on opposite your vanity table.

"Nice treat to wake up to." His eyes trail your body shamelessly, and his hoarse morning voice only has your blood rushing south. Eren looks gorgeous in the mornings too, he always does.

But there was something about his hair down against the pillow, the light pink littering his cheeks when he's realised that he's engaged in something intimate last night, his pretty eyelashes when he gazes at you. And don't get started on the way half of his abs are visible through the bedsheets considering he's so adamant on sleeping shirtless.

"You going somewhere?" He asks, propping himself up a little with his elbows. "I thought that maybe we could grab breakfast or something." He continues with a little frown on your face. Eren has never proposed grabbing breakfast before, like ever.

"Sorry." You say, grabbing your bag, double checking that you had everything you needed.

Your perfume fills his nose and he has to bite back a smile, he's so glad to be back. "I've got a date but feel free to help yourself to breakfast here."

"A date?" He practically erases the last part of ot your sentence from his mind, "With who?" He raises an eyebrow, fully sitting up now.

"Jean." You give him a look that reminds him to watch his words considering how he spoke to you the last time he came up.

"Oh.." It felt like that was the only thing Eren knew how to say when it came to you with another man, he was speechless. The time away made him realise he liked you, of course he fucking liked you. What he hadn't yet realised is that he loved you, all those months together meant that you were the girl that had captured his heart and now knowing after last night you'd be off with Jean?

Oh he felt sick. "So you guys are getting pretty serious then?"

"I mean I guess." You shrug, "But we're not exclusive yet."

"So what does that mean for us?" He asks, you've never seen such hurt in Eren's eyes the way you were seeing it right now. The words were almost taken from your mouth but you were doing what was best for you. When you'd first started your arrangement with Eren you were warned by your you were warned by your friends about him. You didn't listen, the sex was too great for you to bother. Over time you realised you'd started developing feels for him and if there was one thing about Eren Jaeger it was that he was allergic to the word intimacy. You'd never have what you truly wanted out of him. So when Jean came around with all the affection in the world your friends convinced you that was what you deserved so naturally, you made an effort.

"Us?" You raise an eyebrow, "Well I guess we'd have to stop what we're doing. obviously." You point between the two of you, hopeful that he wasn't about to suggest cheating if you and Jean did get together.

"Right." He responds plainly, it's extremely blunt, why wouldn't it be? He's got nothing else to say. "We can still be friends though."

Oh that one really hurt. "Yeah.. friends."

"Look I'm already really late, l've got to go but l'll see you later okay?" You don't give him anytime to respond before rushing out of the door, the air was so suffocating in there and you could feel the awkward unspoken tension that you didn't have it in you to face. It takes a lot considering his heart has just been broken but eventually Eren gathers the strength to stand up, waltzing into your kitchen for said breakfast to see you roommate Sasha giving him a scowl. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like him or if it was because the two of you were too loud last night. Either way he wasn’t interested in that, he was much more fixated on the freshly bloomed vase of flowers that were now on your kitchen island that he’d never seen before. He figured they were Sasha’s, he knew she had a boyfriend because you’d told him.

“Nice, did Niccolo get these for you?” He raises an eyebrow, hoping that it would be enough to dissipate the awkward silence between the two of you.

“Actually…” She turns around with a smug expression, “Jean got them for y/n.” She shrugs, going back to whatever cereal she was pouring. Fuck, he was beginning to doubt himself. Jean seemed like the perfect guy for you, he’s been taking you out on dates, getting you flowers and now he knew the two of you were sleeping together, it was only a matter of time.

The next time he texts you is a few days later, he makes the highest effort possible to not bring any form of sexual speak into the conversation. He was determined to show you how much he cared about solely you and your day. Imagine his surprise when you told him that you and Jean had a date planned tomorrow.

You: Honestly I think he’s finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend

Ren: About time

You: Tell me about it

Ren: If that was me I wouldn’t have ever waited that long

You: Stop being a flirt

Ren: Come on, you know me

You: Yeah I do

You: Kinda gonna miss you ig

Ren: Kinda?

You: Yeah just a little

Ren: I’ll miss you less

You: Just a couple days ago you were in bed whining about how you missed me so much though?

Ren: Low blow

You: Come on, you know me

Ren: Not funny when you do it

You: Shut up you love it

Ren: Yeah unfortunately I do

You: Hey wanna come over? One last time for old times sake

Ren: Fucking you before you become someones girlfriend? How romantic

You: Is that a yes?

Ren: You know it is

And now that he was back in your bedroom, legs spread out while you bounced on his cock because he was adamant on the fact that he did all the work 90% of the time during your FWB relationship, he realised how much he simply cannot let you go. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact your pussy had his head going foggy but once he felt you gripping around his cock, he could only tilt his head back while using his hands to lift your body weight up and down his shaft. The moment he was cumming he slipped into confessions that he probably shouldn’t have, “Fuck baby I don’t want you to leave me, I love you, I love you so fucking much you don’t even know.” He moans against your ear while filling you up.

You can hardly process his words until you’ve come down from your high and you’ve got your arms around his neck while he rubs your back soothingly. You’re so out of breath from riding but he presses a kiss to your temple and it’s enough to calm you down, “You did such a good job, you always do.”

Seconds later your eyes widen, remembering what he just said. You pull away from him, a shocked expression on his face as your eyes search his for any indication that he’s realised what he’s said. “You what?”

He pouts, “Don’t make me repeat it please, it took everything in me to admit it already.”

“Adm— You mean that? Like actually?”

“Of course I do.” He sighs, running one hand up and down your waist slowly while the other cups your face. “I know I’ve been a dick for a long time and I never really had the courage to say anything but I like you more than you know. Fuck that, I love you, everything about you. The way you laugh when I tell you the stupidest joke, your pretty face and these eyes when you’re about to scold me for something, every inch of your body that you’ve let me explore, all these little beauty marks that you have, especially this one here.” He places his hand on the small of your back.

“I have a beauty mark there?” You try to turn around but of course, you can’t see it.

“Yeah you do.” He laughs, “And it’s perfect, just like you.” For a moment he pauses with a sigh, “I know Jean is going to ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow but—“ He gulps, “But I don’t want you to be his girlfriend! You said you were mine and I don’t want things between us to end, I don’t want you to leave me!” He begins whining.

You fall into his chest and for a moment he thinks he’s said the wrong thing before you start— laughing? “What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I would’ve never expected you to say something so.. pathetic.” You shake your head with a laugh, “That’s so like you.” You whisper.

“I’m pouring out my heart here.” He deadpans.

“Sorry.” You shake your head, “Please continue, I love hearing it.” You say, placing a light kiss on his lips.

“If you feel anything for me..” He begins again nervously, “Anything at all then don’t be with Jean, I’ll treat you so much better and we can do all the things you want like go on dates and I’ll get you flowers—“

“What are you suggesting?” You finally ask.

“I have a proposition.” He smiles, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Another one?” You laugh.

“Yeah, how about we make this a thing?” He points between the two of you before resting his hands on your waist once again.

“A thing?”

"Yeah, me and you, boyfriend and girlfriend, a thing."

Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed likes and reblogs are appreciated & requests for Eren Jaeger are open for more <3

[blueberryarchive]

i want reader to call him again...please

𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧!𝙟𝙠

previously on steph's house // later at the game...

tw: mentions of non-con

You've always heard men talk about having called at least once in their life to have sex on the phone. They usually called in groups, mutual support or stupidity, you didn't know which it was.

You knew you always wanted to know how those women could have such rich, soft and daring voices. Even when they laughed it seemed like a well-rehearsed choreography and at the end they said your name as if they knew you down to your bones. You wanted that gift, you would pay for that gift.

Now much more than ever. Or maybe you would like to know how to make another decision as daring as taking the phone from the living room again and hiding it in the bathroom at Steph's house. The girls sleeping upstairs. You should probably go back to bed.

How dare you? You have a boyfriend, for God's sake. And not only that, but with this idiot? You could feel Steph's gaze on the back of your neck, judging your finger to make the final turn.

555-5662

The buzzing is the same, the heavy lump in your throat is not. You knew what awaited you on the other side of the line, it was cruel and disgusting; but you were lying if you said you didn't need to listen a little more.

In the silent night, in the darkness of the chick-yellow bathroom, shame haunts you, warming your ears, your hands on the phone when the soft click was heard on the other side.

"Mm." Was his response, silence was yours. What the hell had you done, were you crazy?

"Fuck," he laughed lowly, "not you again."

"Do you really play?"

"I'm on the team, if that's what you want to know. But I don't think you're adding numbers to your phone bill to ask so much shit, am I wrong?"

You let your forehead cool on the tiles on the wall, is he wrong?

"God, if I had you in front of me…” Jungkook sighed and your heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

"I would force your mouth open to see if you learn to answer people when they talk to you."

"Do you always have music on when you sleep?"

"Are you always such an annoying cunt?"

Your chest burns, your eyes sting.

"You probably have a boyfriend, you all have a lapdog behind you so you don't get bored."

"Please. My boyfriend can kick your ass." You responded quickly, letting the burning spread like burning garbage.

"Are you, then?"

"What?"

"Are you so bored that you have to call the weirdo from college."

"I don't even know why they consider you weird."

This time the laughter was genuine, stupid popular girl, didn't know what she was getting into.

"You would have noticed a while ago if you were in front of me."

"Are you missing teeth or something?" You laughed, chewing on your nails.

"I'd have you bend over with your head on the ground while I split that pussy in two. You'll probably be crying and your little pussy bleeding from the dryness."

"What if I don't want to?" And you cursed yourself for having hesitated, your callgirl career looked even further away.

"Who said anything about wanting?"

And there it was, the heavy knot tied lower, down your stomach to your legs.

"That's illegal."

"Shut up and put your hand between your legs." He interrupted. The smell of detergent was so strong all of a sudden, you looked at your pathetic reflection in the sink mirror.

"You're sick."

"And you're an insignificant whore who calls me at 4 in the morning to listen to my voice and touch herself. Wanting me to tell her exactly what she wants." The stranger growled under his breath. "You're all so spoiled and pathetic, you disgust me."

"Fuck you." Your wet cheeks started to bother you.

Silence, his laughter was lethal, hoarse from hours of interrupted sleep.

"Don't let me find out who you are, callgirl. You gonna' regret it."

Your eyes opened, the darkness and silence were no longer your allies, they now seemed to engulf you. Click, the unbearable tone torturing your ear.

[elixrr]

part 1 here

It's heartbreaking, being a fictional character in a fictional world. But what makes it worse it that his player; his love—his God, grew bored of him and discarded him.

What was he to you? Did you even feel affection for him? He loved you. He truly loved you because he had nothing but you. He's constantly locked in the same fake, digital room, even when you think he's out living his supposed stable life that some temporary code convinces you he's living. He'd do anything to please you, to keep you with him, because ultimately, you were his savior. You were everyone's savior.

And yet, you threw them all away.

Answer him.

What was he to you?

What were they to you? Were they toys to you? Dolls?

He feels betrayed. Rather, he felt betrayed. He can't feel a single thing now. Floating in the void of a digital trash bin stole all his feelings. It stole his supposed friends; it stole his supposed city; it stole his supposed life. His lifeless soul couldn't feel how much time had passed since the day you deleted the game, not that he would want to, even if he could be conscious again. It's dull in a dark void, and everything about him is already on the line. If he were conscious, not only would he have to openly sulk about how worthless he became in your eyes, but he would also have no future to look to. There wouldn't be any point to existing, let alone wanting to exist. If you ever re-downloaded the game, you would probably continue benching him, and that would be an extra sign that you'll never care about him again; that you came on for anyone else but him.

The only thing he'd wish for,

would be complete deletion.

Deletion of the email linked to your game account would result in the deletion of every single file of him and you. Every single fracture of evidence that you cared would disappear.

And, what he'd really want would be his whole self being erased.

In this life of his, he'd have no point. You left him, and probably completely. It doesn't matter what you do. Whether you never play the game again or even start it up again, none of that would matter because he wouldn't have a use in your life. If he doesn't matter in your life, then he wouldn't matter ever until he's possibly featured in an Archon quest or in some event. Even so, you might never use him ever again.

A single tear forms in his eyes. There's no point in existing.

Another tear falls. You never loved him, did you?

His eyes flutter open, and he's back in the team lineup screen. You're there. The supports are there, but he can't bring himself to pose. He can't bring himself to lighten up.

What are you going to do now? Repeat history, strip him of his artifacts, his weapon, and trash him? Slam him down into a pit of despair? A loveless void made for the hopeless and hurt, all of which once loved you and felt you loved them, now suddenly were torn and tossed like old, ragged dolls.

Through his broken heart and blurry eyes, he could see your face. You were about to enter his character detail screen, but you paused. You were looking at him like you were worried, and genuinely so. And, like an angel, you whispered his name with delicate, careful concern.

“What happened to you?”

You abandoned him. That's what happened, and he bets you never knew.

“Leave me alone,” he nearly sobs, “I know you don't want to use me anymore. Rip me apart for all I care—it won't matter when I'm back in that void again.”

“A void..? Wait, never mind that, I do care. What— really, what happened? Wait, you can hear me?”

He wipes his tears away and stands to face you fully. All the supports watch his bravery against the code.

“I could always see you; everyone on the field could. We can hear you.” He takes a moment to breathe it all in. Maybe... Maybe he can get you to listen. Maybe he can help you hear him out.

Maybe he could help you love him again?

“Anyways, the void is where every unused person goes. Once... Once we leave the screen, we just sit here until you use us. And if you remove us from all teams, we're sent— we're plummeted into said void.”

“Oh my God,” you whisper, leaning back, “I need to revisit everyone I...”

“Please, wait, I—” I want to be used. I want to be the one you revisit. I want to be the one you miss.

“Player, creator, whoever you are, just please,” he watches as you scroll through the team lineup options, “please don't leave—”

And you enter another lineup.

And everyone else is gone, too.

“Please. Don't leave me again.”

He falls over, not caring how much it hurts. Nothing works. Nothing will work. It's hopeless.

He'll be stuck here, waiting, waiting, and waiting. Not for you—there's no point in that anyway, but for your second deletion.

He'll be waiting for the game's deletion.

For his final deletion.

You left him, and he's clearly not important to you. As heartbreaking as it is, he accepts it. Even with this dimensional intersection, he can't convince you.

As heartbreaking as it is, he's just a fictional character to you in this fictional world. He loved you, and he thought you did too, but clearly, you don't. Because he is just an abandoned, rotting toy, and you are the player who abandoned him.

And, he thinks, if you want him to rot, then so be it,

Let him rot.

@iridescentrays @inlovewithlondonn @falconclaw244 @shiningpaint-marbleheart @jeremyth @hikaru-sama @ayatoq @krrkt @yureismellslikefanfic @samhelleborewrites @bi-panicatthedisco @hannya-writes @thomaliciouss @notisekais @lovelykrystal @raeharmonia @ayra2452008 @chikai-k @dreamsofmoney @shutingstar

To everyone who wanted part 2 :))

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 30/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, Ben being a dick

Word Count: 6788

A/N: This is part 30 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Ben's lips, the warmth of your affectionate gesture momentarily easing the tension between you. As you pulled back, you looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Hey, could we eat something?", you asked. "I'm starving. And… maybe we could go out? You know, just the two of us?".

You hoped that Ben would agree, knowing that he had never taken you out for a date before. It would be a nice change of pace, a chance to enjoy each other's company away from the chaos of everyday life.

Ben's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Yeah, sure", he replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of a quiet dinner together.

As Ben looked at the dress you had laid out on the bed minutes later, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "So, you mean that kind of going out?", he asked with a teasing tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he gestured towards your outfit.

You glanced at Ben from the bathroom, a hint of shyness in your expression as you spoke. "Well, until today, I didn't even got a proper date", you mumbled softly, feeling a pang of realization at the admission. "You sure knocked me up, but we never went on a date".

Ben chuckled at your comment, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Smooth, sweetheart", he murmured affectionately, shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, seems like I have to get all dressed up then", he added with a playful grin, walking over to his closet to pick out something suitable for your impromptu date.

Ben sat in the living room, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and snug black slacks. He idly waited for you, passing the time with another line of cocaine.

As you walked into the living room, the vibrant red dress hugging your curves and accentuating the tiny bump, Ben's eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. He choked on his whiskey, momentarily taken aback by your stunning appearance.

But when he saw your face drop at his reaction, his heart sank. "You don't like it… I knew it", you mumbled, your voice tinged with insecurity. You were well aware of Ben's past with various top models and breathtaking girls, and sometimes that knowledge made you feel insecure about your own appearance.

Ben quickly got up from his seat, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're fucking kidding, right?", he muttered, his voice laced with urgency as he closed the distance between you.

Taking your hand, Ben spun you around slowly, his eyes roving over your figure appreciatively. "Look at you, turning heads everywhere you go. Fucking hot as always".

His words were tinged with a hint of teasing, but also genuine appreciation for your beauty.

You blushed again, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "But it's not quite flattering", you mumbled, pointing down to your little belly, your insecurity creeping in despite his praise.

Ben's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your waist. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen. You carrying our baby, looking absolutely stunning while doing it. Trust me, sweetheart, there's nothing more beautiful than that".

Ben smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "And now, let's go get some food into you", he murmured as he guided you towards the door.

As you sat at the table, taking in the quiet ambience of the upscale restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a sense of appreciation for Ben's thoughtfulness. His efforts to keep you safe and out of the spotlight meant a lot to you, even if it sometimes felt isolating.

Across from you, Ben's gaze softened as he watched you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I wanted us to have some privacy", he explained, his voice low and reassuring. "Just you and me tonight".

As Ben looked at you, his heart swelled with emotion, seeing your little belly more prominent as you sat at the table. It was a tangible reminder of the life growing inside you, a symbol of the future he had always hoped for but never dared to imagine could be his.

You caught his gaze and offered him a warm smile, unaware of the flood of emotions surging through his mind. For Ben, this moment was everything he had ever wanted—a beautiful woman, the promise of a family, and the chance to create a future together.

You noticed Ben's gaze actually was on your belly. Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you asked him, "So, are you hoping for a girl or a boy?".

You already knew his answer would likely be something typically macho.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on your belly for a moment longer before meeting your eyes. "Well, obviously a boy", he replied with a chuckle, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness. "Gonna teach him how to throw a punch before he can even fucking walk".

You chuckled at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "Oh, great", you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Another Ben running around, breaking hearts and causing trouble. What could possibly go wrong with that?".

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Breaking hearts?", he repeated, his tone laced with mock innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. I'm a perfect gentleman".

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, of course", you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because perfect gentlemen are known for their charming arrogance and devilish smiles".

"Well, sweetheart", he began, leaning in closer, "if my charming arrogance and devilish smile are what make you come over and over again, then I must be doing something right".

Ben leaned back slightly, his smirk widening as he noticed the flush creeping up your neck. "Oh, I see I've hit the mark", he teased, his voice low and husky. "I must say, I do have a way with words, don't I?".

"You certainly have a way of making me blush", you admitted.

"And horny", he added with a wink and leaned closer to you across the table.

"Stop that", you whispered.

"Stop what?", he teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to maintain a sense of composure despite the way his intense gaze stirred something deep within you. "Stop being so… you", you replied.

Ben leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered huskily, "But being me is what you love, isn't it?".

You couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his lips brushing against your skin, sending a delicious thrill down your spine. "Maybe", you teased back, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back again, his eyes still locked with yours. "Admit it, you love every bit of it", his voice low and dripping with confidence.

Just then, the waitress arrived with your food, interrupting the charged moment between you and Ben. You exchanged a glance, both of you stifling a chuckle at the timing. As she set down the plates, Ben flashed the waitress a charming smile before turning his attention back to you.

You couldn't resist teasing Ben about his charming smile towards the waitress. "Oh, I see how it is", you teased playfully, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't know I had competition".

Ben flashed you a grin, his charm oozing effortlessly as he leaned back in his chair. "Competition? Please", he scoffed. "There's no contest when you're around, sweetheart".

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky remark, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless. "Smooth talker", you quipped, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

After the two of you finished dinner, the waitress came back to clear your plates. "Would you like to see the dessert menu?", she asked in a cheerful tone.

Ben's response was laced with innuendo as he flashed her a suggestive grin. "Oh, sweetheart, I've already got dessert right here", he replied with a wink, gesturing towards you in a way that left little to the imagination.

Again your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as Ben's words registered, and you couldn't help but stammer out a response. "Uh, I think we're good, thanks", you managed to mumble, your embarrassment evident in your tone as you avoided the waitress's gaze.

"Are you blushing again, baby?", he teased, his tone laced with amusement as he enjoyed your flustered reaction. "Or are you just imagining dessert?".

"Oh, shut up now!", you chuckled, swatting at his arm lightly. "You're the one with the dirty mind".

"Can you blame me? With you sitting across from me looking like that, it's hard not to think about dessert".

The evening wore on and while the playful banter between you and Ben continued, punctuated by stolen glances and shared laughter. With each passing moment, you felt yourself falling more deeply for him, grateful for the unexpected twists and turns that had brought you together.

You stepped inside the house an hour later.

In the bathroom, you carefully removed your earrings, Ben leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The dim light cast gentle shadows across his face, accentuating the rugged contours of his features.

"Long day, huh?", he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, a tired sigh escaping your lips. "Yeah".

Ben stepped closer, his presence comforting and reassuring. "Let me help you relax", he offered, his hands reaching out to gently massage your shoulders.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his comforting presence. As his skilled fingers worked out the tension in your muscles, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered softly against your shoulder. "You look so fucking good in that dress", he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access as his hands trailed down your sides to your hips, his touch both gentle and possessive. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent tingles of anticipation coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, relishing the closeness between you.

As his lips continued to tease your neck, Ben's hand slipped under your dress and inside your panties from behind, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With a mischievous grin, he whispered teasingly against your skin, "You're so wet already, sweetheart. Did our little dinner date get you all worked up?".

His words, combined with his skillful touch, ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs as desire flooded your senses. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, unable to deny the effect he had on you.

Ben's gaze met yours in the mirror as he watched your reaction, a wicked grin spreading across his lips as he pushed two fingers inside you. He relished the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your breath hitched in response to his touch. With a low chuckle, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You like that, don't you? You're still so responsive, sweetheart".

Your body shivered under his touch as his deep voice sent tingles down your spine. You knew all too well how easily he responded to you, always ready and eager. It was a testament to the desire he felt whenever he was near you. With a soft moan escaping your lips, you leaned back into him, relishing the feeling of his hardness against you.

With a swift motion, Ben scooped you up against his chest, his strength evident as he effortlessly held you close. As he withdrew his fingers, you couldn't help but whimper softly at the loss, only to gasp as he slipped them back into your panties from the front, his touch now more intimate and precise, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your body.

Feeling his muscular arm around your ribcage, you leaned into his embrace, your knees growing weak as he softly bit your neck, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each gentle nip, you felt your arousal building, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to his touch.

His voice resonated against your skin as he groaned, "You have no idea what you do to me. Just the thought of you carrying my baby… fuck, it drives me insane".

You tilted your head back slightly, a soft moan escaping your lips as his words washed over you. “You’re such a fucking turn-on”, you whispered.

Ben's lips curled into a devilish grin as he heard your words, his desire fueling the fire burning between you. "And you love every minute of it".

With that, Ben bent you over, your hands gripping the sink, anticipation surged through you. You knew exactly what was about to come, and the thought sent shivers of excitement down your spine. Ben's reflection met yours in the mirror, his eyes smoldering with desire as he positioned himself behind you.

As Ben slipped up your dress more, revealing the soft curves of your backside, he wasted no time in freeing himself from his pants and boxers, letting them pool around his thighs.

"Let me know if I need to ease up", Ben murmured, his voice low and gravelly with desire as he pressed himself against you. The memory of your bruises lingered in his mind, fueling his determination to be careful with you this time.

Seeing your nod, Ben's hands gripping your hips. With a deep breath, he began to push into you, his movements slow and controlled, mindful of your comfort and pleasure.

As Ben eased into you, you couldn't help but grip the sink tighter, your knuckles turning white as pleasure surged through you, heightened by the sensitivity you had experienced since your pregnancy began.

"You good?". His words were filled with concern, his movements slow and deliberate as he gauged your response.

Your breath hitched as you managed to murmur, "Yeah", your voice barely audible amidst the haze of pleasure enveloping you

As Ben moved inside you, he felt a heady mix of desire and restraint. His movements were slow and steady, each one calculated to bring you pleasure without causing any discomfort. With each gentle push, he could feel the warmth of your body enveloping him.

Despite the restraint, there was an underlying intensity to his movements, a raw passion that simmered just below the surface. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you as he set a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. With each thrust, he felt a surge of pleasure coursing through him, mingling with the deep connection he felt with you.

As he moved, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight of you in the mirror.

Amidst your heavy breaths, you mumbled, "Fuck, you feel so damn good".

Ben, his own breath ragged with desire, tightened his grip on your hips, careful not to exert too much force. His veins stood out in stark relief against his skin, a testament to the effort of holding back, of restraining himself for your sake.

With every thrust, every touch, the intensity between you grew, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

As Ben's groans filled the air, he admitted breathlessly, "I won't last much long". His gaze remained fixed on your face through the mirror, drinking in every expression, every gasp of pleasure that crossed your lips.

The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. But even as his body screamed for release, he held on, desperate to savor every moment of this intoxicating pleasure shared between you.

"Come for me, sweetheart", he urged. His movements became more deliberate, more focused on driving you to the peak of ecstasy before he allowed himself to follow.

He wanted nothing more than to witness the pleasure wash over you, to feel the tight clench of your body around him.

With a firm hand on your lower back, Ben adjusted your position slightly, angling himself to brush against your most sensitive spots with each thrust.

Your moans filled the room as Ben's expert adjustment sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With an almost immediate response, you felt yourself unraveling, pleasure washing over you in powerful waves as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Ben's own arousal skyrocketed as he felt your body shudder with pleasure. With your climax igniting his own desire, he couldn't hold back any longer.

With a low growl, Ben thrust deeply into you, riding the wave of ecstasy as he found release. His grip on you tightened momentarily before he slowly eased off, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against your back.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Ben's breathing gradually slowed, his chest rising and falling heavily against your back. He remained pressed against you, his arms wrapped around your waist, savoring the closeness between you. With a contented sigh, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his heart still racing with the intensity of their shared passion.

Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you remained still, feeling his heartbeat against your back as his arms held you securely. The sensation of his lingering presence, coupled with the gentle rhythm of his breathing, enveloped you in a cocoon of intimacy.

Ben's voice was a soft murmur against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin. "You okay?", he whispered, his tone filled with concern as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder.

You nodded, feeling his warmth enveloping you. "Yeah", you murmured, a contented smile playing at your lips as you leaned back into his embrace.

As Ben pulled back slightly, his cum trickled out of you, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. Without hesitation, he reached for a nearby towel, gently cleaning you up with careful strokes, his touch both tender and intimate.

"You're such a mess", Ben chuckled softly, his voice filled with affection as he continued to clean you up. "But a beautiful mess".

"Well, you're the one who always wants to cum inside me", you teased, looking at him. "Can't blame me for the mess you make".

Ben chuckled, his hands still gently cleaning you up. "Can't help it when you feel so fucking good", he replied. "But I'll clean up my mess, don't you worry".

"You better", you teased, turning your head to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "I don't want to be dripping all over the place".

"You're such a handful", he murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

As Ben pulled up his pants, you let out a tired yawn, snuggling up to him and resting your head against his chest.

Ben gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the bed and carefully laying you down. You felt utterly drained, every muscle in your body aching with exhaustion. With a tired sigh, you sat up slowly, peeling off your dress until you were completely naked. Pulling the blanket up to cover yourself, you settled back against the pillows, ready to drift off into a deep and restful sleep.

Ben also undressed with a tired sigh, slipping into bed beside you. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Someone's become quite the cuddler", you teased with a yawn, earning a low growl from him in response. His fingers found their way to your ass, giving it a playful pinch as he replied, "Watch it, sweetheart".

You chuckled softly at his reaction, feeling his hand tracing down towards your belly. As his palm settled against your soft skin, you both fell silent, while he listening to the steady rhythm of your unborn child's heartbeat. It was a moment of peace and connection, one that made you cuddle even closer against Ben.

As he watched you sleep, Ben's mind wandered, contemplating the idea of relinquishing control of the supes to someone else. The thought of being able to spend every moment with you and the baby was enticing, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no one else he could trust to lead the supes like him, no one who could maintain order and keep everyone in line the way he could. Despite the challenges and responsibilities that came with his position, he knew it was where he belonged, even if it meant sacrificing some time with his growing family.

A few hours later, Ben stirred from his slumber, instantly alert as he saw you hurriedly darting towards the bathroom. Concern etched across his face, he tiredly followed you.

"Hey, hey", Ben murmured, crouching beside you as you leaned over the toilet, holding back your hair. "That's not normal". His voice was laced with concern as he gently rubbed your naked, cold back, feeling a pang of worry shoot through him.

For weeks, hardly a single day went by when you didn't vomit.

"Baby, you're fucking cold", Ben murmured, his concern growing as he felt the chill radiating from your trembling body.

Ben's touch was gentle yet firm as he pressed his palm against your hot forehead, his brows furrowing with worry as he watched over you.

With a sigh, he realized that your symptoms were worsening, and he couldn't shake off the worry gnawing at him. Tenderly, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his voice soft with concern as he murmured, "We need to get you to the doctor first thing in the morning".

As you nodded weakly, clinging onto him, Ben carefully guided you back into bed, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He held you close against him, feeling the weight of your weakness. You were barely awake, your body drained from the ordeal. All he could do was hold you close and provide comfort as you drifted back into sleep.

Throughout the night, Ben didn't sleep for a second. He kept a vigilant watch over you, listening for any irregularities in your breathing or heartbeat, hoping that it wasn't as serious as it seemed. However, by morning, you felt even worse. Ben could see it in your pale complexion and the exhaustion etched into every line of your face.

With great care, Ben helped you into the shower, supporting you as you washed away the night's discomfort. He then assisted you in getting dressed, his strong arms guiding you gently as you struggled with dizziness and weakness. It was clear that you needed his support now more than ever.

As Ben helped you into the shower and dressed you, you couldn't help but mumble apologies, your voice strained with exhaustion and frustration. "I'm so sorry", you repeated over and over again, the words tinged with self-deprecation. You hated feeling this vulnerable, confirming Ben's beliefs about the weakness of humans. Yet, without his support, you could barely hold yourself upright.

As Ben drove to Vought with you beside him, you continued to mumble apologies, your voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry", you whispered again, your words laced with frustration.

Ben glanced at you, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Stop apologizing!", he muttered, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Just focus on getting better".

You nodded weakly, feeling a pang of guilt for burdening him with your weakness.

Feeling the weight of your tears, Ben took a deep breath, trying to steady his fraying nerves. He knew he shouldn't let his frustration get the best of him, especially when you were already feeling so vulnerable.

"Hey", he said gently, reaching out to touch your hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just worried about you and the baby".

His words were softened with genuine concern as he tried to reassure you, despite his own fatigue and anxiety.

As your tears continued to fall, Ben's patience wore thin, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with frustration. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him, unsure of how to comfort you when he was struggling to keep himself together.

"Come on", he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched as he navigated through traffic. "We'll get you checked out, see what's going on".

"I-I think… my belly hurts", you managed to choke out, your hand instinctively reaching for your abdomen as another wave of tears fell. "It hurts… really bad".

Your voice trembled with pain and fear, and you looked to Ben, hoping for some reassurance amidst the overwhelming discomfort.

Ben's eyes widened slightly in alarm as he pushed your hand aside, replacing it with his own as he gently pressed against your belly. It took a few moments, but eventually, he felt the faint thud of the baby's heartbeat beneath his palm. It wasn't as strong as it used to be, and a wave of panic washed over him.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened even further as he tried to keep his composure, his mind racing with worry and concern for both you and the baby.

Concern etched across your face, you turned to Ben, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "Ben, what's going on?", you choked out, the pain intensifying with each passing moment.

Ben withdrew his hand from your belly, a worried frown creasing his brow. Clearing his throat, he struggled to find the right words. "The heartbeat of the baby seems weaker, but I'm not a doctor", he mumbled softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Parking his car in the underground car park, he glanced at you, his expression tense with concern. "We need to get you checked out", he said firmly, his voice tinged with urgency. "Let's go".

Feeling weaker and more afraid than ever, you leaned into Ben's support as the elevator ascended to the doctor's floor. His arm around your hips steadied you as the doors opened, revealing a team of medical professionals already waiting for you.

Ben's grip tightened around you, a silent reassurance as he guided you toward the team. Despite his usual bravado, his worry was palpable, his concern for you and the baby etched into every line of his face.

Stepping onto the doctor's floor, you and Ben were greeted by a team already assembled and ready to assist. They attempted to calm the two of you, reassuring you that as long as you didn't bleed or pass out, everything was fine. Deep down, they knew it wasn't that simple, but they were wary of causing further panic.

Ben's jaw clenched as he listened to the doctors' words. He glanced at you, silently offering his support as the medical team began their examination.

In the examination room, you clung to Ben's hand tightly, seeking comfort in his presence. He stood steadfast by your side, his grip reassuring as you braced yourself for the ultrasound. The doctor began the procedure, the sound of the machine filling the room as they carefully examined your belly.

Ben's gaze never left you. He remained silent.

The doctor finished the ultrasound, studying the images carefully before stepping back. Meanwhile, the nurse took your blood pressure, her movements precise and efficient. As the doctor conferred with another nurse, they turned to you with a solemn expression.

"The heartbeat of the baby is a bit weak", the doctor explained gently, their voice filled with concern. "We need to monitor you closely and take some additional tests to understand what's happening".

The doctor turned to Ben, who was poised to ask more questions, and reassured him with a calm demeanor. "Right now, everything seems okay", he explained, his tone measured. "It's not perfect, but it's not life-threatening either. We'll continue to monitor (Y/N) closely and take the necessary steps to ensure both her and the baby's well-being".

Ben exhaled softly and looked down at you. As another, older nurse came with a hospital gown, he stepped back a little. As the nurse assisted you into the hospital gown, her eyes briefly flickered over the bruises scattered across your skin. Sensing the tension, she gently inquired, "Are those bruises recent?". Ben's jaw clenched, his gaze momentarily averted. Your cheeks flushed, feeling his discomfort.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your embarrassment as you nodded slightly. "Um, yeah", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "They're, uh, from… accidents".

The nurse furrowed her brow, clearly concerned. "Accidents?", she repeated, her tone gentle yet probing. "Are you sure everything is okay at home? You don't have to be afraid to tell us if something's wrong".

Ben's voice rose, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you honestly think I would lay a fucking finger on her?", he snapped, his tone sharp and defensive. "I'm not some abusive asshole. Those bruises… they're from…". He trailed off, realizing he couldn't bring himself to explain the true cause.

The nurse, accustomed to dealing with supes and their peculiarities, simply rolled her eyes at Ben's outburst. "Alright, alright, calm down", she said, her tone gentle but firm. "I've seen my fair share of unusual circumstances. You can tell me the truth, you know".

As she closed your gown gently, she gave Ben a knowing look, silently urging him to open up.

Ben took a deep breath, his frustration evident in his voice as he reluctantly began to explain. "Look, it's not what you think", he started, his tone a mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. "I didn't… I mean, I would never…". He struggled to find the right words, his jaw tense as he glanced at you, silently apologizing for the uncomfortable situation.

The nurse's tone softened slightly as she addressed Ben, her expression empathetic yet firm. "Look, I get it. You're a supe, and she's human. But you've got to be more careful", she said, her voice gentle yet authoritative. "We've seen it all before. It's not about cracking her open, it's about understanding your own strength and knowing when to hold back. It can be challenging, especially during sex, but you must learn-…".

“Okay, stop”, Ben interrupted, feeling completely uncomfortable.

"Well, but especially you, the great soldier boy, should know better", she continued, her voice tinged with a hint of reproach. "You've got to learn to control that strength of yours, especially when it comes to someone you seem to care about".

Ben's frustration was palpable as he took a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his temper. You could see the anger burning in his eyes as he turned towards the nurse. "Can you give us a minute, please?", you asked her softly, sensing that Ben needed a moment to compose himself.

The nurse nodded understandingly, sensing the tension in the air. "Of course", she replied, giving you a reassuring smile before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with Ben.

You reached out to touch Ben's arm, your voice soft but firm. "Ben, please", you pleaded, your eyes searching his for any sign of relenting. But he remained tense, his jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his anger.

Feeling the chill, you wrapped your arms around yourself, longing for warmth. Sensing your discomfort, Ben sat beside you, gently pulling you onto his lap. His strong arms enveloped you, offering solace and comfort. As you nestled against his chest, his warmth seeped into you, gradually dispelling the cold.

As the doctor returned, he began conducting tests on me without pulling me away from Ben's bedside. "Have you been resting well like I asked you to?", he inquired, concern etched in his voice.

You glanced at him, your mind momentarily distracted by memories of the passionate moments shared with Ben. "Um, yes, I've been trying to".

The doctor nodded, his attention shifting back to his examination. "Good, it's crucial for your health and the baby's", he advised, his tone gentle yet firm. As he administered the infusion and antibiotics, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of being pregnant with a supe baby.

As the doctor finished the tests, he turned his attention to Ben. "And how do you feel about the V medication, Soldier Boy?", he inquired, his tone professional yet curious.

Ben's brows furrowed slightly in confusion before he replied, "V medication?".

You shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

The truth about the risks of my pregnancy and the potential need for the V medication weighed heavily on your mind, yet you never told Ben about it.

Sensing the tension in the room, the doctor exchanged a knowing glance with you, before turning back to Ben. "I'll give the two of you a moment", he said gently, his tone understanding.

As the doctor stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, Ben's gaze bore into yours, searching for answers. "What's that?", he asked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Ben's gaze as his eyes bored into yours. The air in the room felt thick with tension as you struggled to find the words to explain.

"I… I didn't want to worry you", you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "But there are risks… with the pregnancy. More than we thought".

Ben's expression darkened, his jaw tensing with anger. "Risks? What kind of risks?", he demanded, his voice rising with each word.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for his reaction. "The doctor mentioned… that the only help might be an… an unforshed V medication", you confessed, stumbling over the words as you struggled to articulate the truth.

Ben's eyes widened in disbelief, his fists clenching at his sides. "And you didn't think I deserved to fucking know this?", he growled.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him. "I'm sorry, Ben", you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I didn't know how to tell you".

Ben rubbed his beard, a sure sign of his frustration, before he turned around abruptly. His back muscles flexed, a silent testament to the intensity of his emotions. You knew he was beyond just angry; he was majorly pissed.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Ben paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the room. Each step seemed to reverberate with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. You watched him, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at your insides.

Finally, Ben stopped in front of the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His shoulders tensed, and you could sense the turmoil raging within him. It was as if a storm was brewing beneath the surface, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

If you weren't feeling so dizzy and cold, you would have gone to him, but instead, you remained lying in the hospital bed, watching him with a heavy heart.

"You need to stay heads up with the supes who want to take you down and all that stuff… I just don't want to distract you".

Ben's eyes flashed with rage as your words reached his ears. Without a word, he stormed towards you, his steps echoing like thunder in the room. Before you could react, he grabbed the nightstand beside your bed and shoved it into the wall with such force that it shattered into pieces.

You recoiled in shock, the shards of wood and metal scattering across the floor around you. The intensity of Ben's anger left you speechless, a cold knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realized the extent of his fury.

Your heart raced as you watched Ben's expression, recognizing the familiar signs of his temper but also sensing something darker beneath the surface. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, devoid of any trace of the love and warmth you were accustomed to.

Frozen in fear, you found yourself unable to utter a single word, the fear gripping your heart like a vice. All you could do was stare back at him, tears streaming down your heated cheeks.

As Ben saw the fear in your eyes and heard the rapid rhythm of your heart, a pained expression crossed his face. His clenched fists relaxed, and the anger in his eyes softened, replaced by a profound sense of remorse.

Ben's hand trembled as he reached out to cup your cheek, his heart heavy with regret. But as his fingertips grazed your skin, you flinched away, a reflex born of fear, and his touch fell short.

A strangled gasp escaped Ben's lips as he recoiled, the pain of rejection written across his face. "I'm sorry", he mumbled, "I didn't mean to…".

But his words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that hung between you.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks.

"Fuck", Ben growled loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the room, filled with frustration and self-loathing. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The door slammed shut behind him with such force that a few screws flew out, punctuating his departure with a final, resounding crash. The sound reverberated in the empty room, a stark reminder of the turmoil that had unfolded within its walls.

Alone once more, you were left to grapple with the aftermath of Ben's outburst, the echoes of his anger still ringing in your ears.

The nurse returned, her expression filled with concern as she took in the scene before her. "Are you alright?", she asked, her voice gentle and careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of the moment.

You nodded weakly, attempting to compose yourself despite the tremors still coursing through your body. "I'm fine", you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling foreign on your lips.

The nurse approached you slowly, her movements cautious as she checked your vitals and assessed your condition. Her touch was gentle.

She nurse pulled the blanket over your body, tucking you in with a tenderness that brought a lump to your throat. With a soft click of the remote, she dimmed the harsh hospital lights, casting the room in a gentle, soothing glow.

"He'll come back", the nurse mumbled reassuringly, her voice laced with empathy. "Probably with flowers or something. You need to rest, honey. Think about your baby".

You nodded weakly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you.

But despite the nurse's comforting words, tears continued to fall unabated down your cheeks.

The nurse sighed heavily before quietly leaving the room, her presence fading into the silence that enveloped you once more. Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at your insides.

You knew you should have told Ben about the risks and the medication. But the memory of his rage and the coldness in his stare still sent shivers down your spine.

As the medication kicked in, its sedative effects washing over you like a gentle tide, your eyelids grew heavy, and you succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep. In the darkness of your dreams, the echoes of Ben's anger faded into the distance, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 31

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK

[saturnville]

echoes in the heights, terry richmond | chapter one.

Synopsis: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!OC (Elara Taylor)

A/N: Unless you’d like to be removed, you must interact with a reblog and/or comment to keep your spot on the taglist. Enjoy!

Tags: @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @turn-thy-paige @theglamclosetsl

Starting a new life took work. Shedding the remnants of the past and putting on cloaks on the future, though uncomfortable, was necessary. It was never easy, but it was necessary.

So, he bought an old pickup, packed his belongings, and drove three hours eastward until he reached Riverside Heights. It was a quaint town with about 10,000 people, but it would do. He was satisfied when his eyes landed on the sign as he drove past the threshold. Welcome to Riverside Heights! Most populous Black town in the East. Whatever internal compass guided him led him to the right place.

The same day, he found an apartment owned by an elderly couple looking for another tenant.

They said it was fully furnished and had rent and utilities much under his budget. He quickly signed the dotted line and gratefully presented money for the deposit.

He spent the evening in his new apartment. Although he didn’t have much, he hoped it would eventually become like home. He basked in the warmth of the quaint bedroom and the shower’s heat against his sore body. For the first time in a long time, he slept like a baby that night, and it was needed for the day he had ahead.

There was a job to obtain, and he wouldn’t stop until he found one.

He woke up early the following day before the sunlight hit the bedroom. He said a quick prayer, made his bed, and dropped to the floor to do a few quick exercises before heading to the shower to begin his hygiene routine.

Afterward, he wore a black polo, dark jeans, and his cleanest boots. He glanced in the mirror momentarily. His eyes, usually full of life, were dull and tired. Sure, the color was light, but the sparkle behind them was long gone. Whatever slither of happiness was left died right alongside Mike in that prison cell where his body collapsed. No matter how hard he tried, happiness seemed out of reach, and it was exhausting to chase after it.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear slid down his cheek. He mumbled lowly, wiped his face roughly, and shuffled out the door quickly.

Riverside Heights was a beautiful town full of vibrancy and life. Everyone seemed genuine and kind. Everywhere he turned, he was met with a warm smile and a kind, “How are you, sir?” This was very different from his previous experiences.

Yet, he still felt like an outsider. He was surrounded by people who looked like him, who most likely knew nothing of his past, and who were so kind, yet he was an outsider in a land that shouldn’t be foreign.

But rather than staying in his head, he smiled back, hoping people wouldn’t see the stiffness of it, and said, “Doing well, thank you for asking. Um, I’m new in town, and I’m looking for a job. Do you have any suggestions on where to look?”

Being the kind woman she was, Ms. Willis walked to a community event with him. “You came just in time. They’re having a job fair at the local community center. There are plenty of folks there looking to hire. I hope you find what you need.”

They walked silently for a while, and he took in the beauty of Riverside Heights. The sun beamed on them, warming his skin. Along the road were hundreds of freshly planted flowers and plants. He always liked plants. They were beautiful to him. The grass was freshly cut and irritated his nose, but he let it go to bask in nature.

His eyes followed the fowls in the air as they chirped and danced freely. How beautiful that must have been. The pace of the town was steady. People ran on the sidewalks, children played in the field with their friends, and newborn babies cried as their parents tried to calm them. They were greeted by a few people, some asking about him and his unfamiliar face and others addressing Ms. Willis. Each interaction was unique and lovely. Everyone was so friendly.

Moments later, Ms. Willis spoke up. Her graying eyes squinted as she looked at the young man who towered over her. “Why Riverside Heights? Most folks that are here were born here. We don’t get folks coming in from the outside too often.”

The question he dreaded had come to haunt him. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s a long story,” he gave a rueful chuckle. He tore his eyes away from hers. He

couldn’t look her in the eye. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and shrugged. “Just needed a new start, away from what I knew before. Was driving for a few hours, saw the sign, and decided to try it.”

Just as his grandmother would do, she crossed her hands over one another and nodded, drawing out a long mhm as she did so. “You’ll have to tell me that story. Maybe over some dinner and a good peach cobbler. I’m sure you don’t have food in that stomach of yours.” She tapped his belly, and he smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. “And regardless of the reason, my boy, I am glad you’re here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Willis,” he said gratefully, accepting the hand squeeze she gave. They engaged in more small talk before they arrived at the community center. Before he walked in, she grabbed his arm and caressed it lovingly, “You got my number now, so I expect your call cause dinner is at 6. I’ll see you tonight.”

With a soft “Yes, ma’am” and a smile, he retreated and headed toward the community center. People were packed like sardines in the center, looking for jobs. He considered himself one of the lucky ones. There, within thirty minutes, he found a job. It was nothing crazy, but it was stable. It was normal. It was what he needed.

“Construction, aye?” He lifted his eyes from the documents he was given and saw a dark-eyed, dark-haired man, maybe around his age, with his hands in his pocket. “Been needing some more workers out here. I look forward to working with you.”

Naturally, he stuck his hand out, “Terry Richmond. Nice to meet you, man.” The man, Terry learned, was Jackson, the son of Ms. Willis. He worked at the construction company as a project manager and insisted they’d spend a lot of time together.

Terry was hesitant at first, but it was what he needed. Maybe, in due time, he wouldn’t feel like an outsider but rather a member of Riverside Heights.

At least, so he hoped.

-

After dinner at Ms. Willis’, Terry settled into his apartment. He placed the leftovers in the fridge and the groceries he picked up on the way back. It was a weird feeling to move and settle into what would be a new life. There was pressure, a lot of it.

To not screw up, to keep his head down, and stay focused. To ensure that this life would be better than the previous one.

It was what he wanted. It was what he deserved. So, rather than sulking over what was, he tried to focus on the present and do what ordinary people do when they move—eat ice cream and watch trashy movies on television. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t know if it would help, but he was more than willing to try. He had no choice.

-

Two days later, he started work. He was ready to start, dressed in a logoed short-sleeved shirt, thick cargo pants, and work boots.

He did not have a busy workday. Although orientation took all day, he had leftovers from dinner with Ms. Willis to rejuvenate his spirit.

He sat in the corner while eating lunch. Being alone didn’t last long, though. He heard a familiar voice call out his name, “Terry, my man.” He turned to see Jackson, dressed in a blue suit with a hard hat on his head. Terry turned swiftly, nodding as he swallowed the chicken and rice.

“Jackson,” he greeted lowly. “How you doin’?” Jackson replied with an exasperated sigh and peeled the hard hat off his head, revealing his matted curls.

“Man, listen. The new city planner has been behind me regarding these new plans. She ain’t one to be played with.” Terry assumed she was a handful by his tone and shaking his head. He hadn’t known Jackson long, but he was a goofy guy based on his interactions over having dinner three nights at Ms. Willis. So, being bent out of shape over work meant the city planner wasn’t easy to deal with.

“In what way?” Terry asked curiously. This came as a surprise to him. Even though he’d only been in the city for a few days, he couldn’t imagine anyone behind a pain in his behind.

“Is she that bad, or she just won’t let you flirt with her?” Terry’s comment made Jackson cut his eyes. Terry choked on his water as he laughed.

Jackson pulled up a chair and swung it around. “Nah, she’s just…you’ll know when you see her,

man. Had me feeling like I didn’t know how to do my job.” Terry’s eyebrow raised. She sounded condescending, but he was old enough to know not to form opinions based on someone else’s.

Terry closed his Tupperware container and slid it back into the small lunch box he had purchased from the market. “Guess I’ll find out when I meet her.” He stood from his seat and shrugged.

Jackson scoffed. “That’s if you survive her wrath. Just know, I warned you, brother.”

“Warning heard.”

-

“Mr. Richmond, I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure how capable you are to conduct this projectalongside Mr. Willis.” Jackson was right. She was condescending as hell, and it didn’t sit right with him.

Terry’s light eyes met Jackson’s darker ones; they shared a look. One that said, “I told you so,” and “I see what you mean.” Terry rolled his shoulders back and intertwined his hands.

“And if I may ask, Ms. Taylor. How’d you reach that conclusion?” His facial expressions remained unchanged, though his voice showed slight annoyance with her comment. Ms. Taylor, or Elara Taylor, City Planner of Riverside Heights, mimicked his movement.

She glanced at his resume on her temporary desk.

“You don’t have much construction experience. How do I know you won’t put a faulty pipe in the ground?” Dear God, he thought to himself. He had no clue who this woman was, and she didn’t know him either, yet here she was, making wild accusations with an accusatory tone.

Terry glanced at Jackson swiftly. He had to choose his words wisely for his job and Jackson's position, but she wasn’t getting away with talking to him like an incompetent child.

“Ms. Taylor, common sense is a virtue I possess. I may not be Bob the Builder, but I’m a marine. I’ve worked with things far worse than a pipe, which I’m sure one of the many contractors your office hired would guide me on how to install. I am here for a reason: to do my job. With my two years of prior construction experience.” Terry wasn’t one to get snippy. He usually was cool, calm, and collected, but the last thing he would tolerate was issues with a woman he didn’t know from a can of paint; her title be damned.

Silence fell over the room. Jackson looked between them, sensing the newfound tension between them. He sunk further in his chair.

Elara stared blankly at him. Her dark eyes bore into his light ones. He’d gotten many compliments on his eyes over the years, but hers were just as stunning, if not more. Something about brown eyes made his knees weak, and his loins stirred.

As their staring game intensified, he noted that she was beautiful. Her complexion was rich in hue and relatively smooth, save for the fading acne scars on her cheeks. Her nose and lips

were distinct and whole, like her ancestors. She wore her hair straight, the dark tresses settling at her shoulders, and she wore a two-piece navy blue suit. Elara Taylor was the head woman in charge.

Her eyes softened. She cleared her throat and replied in a softer tone. “So be it. I hope you’re as good as Ms. Willis advocates for you to be. And Jackson, I expect that draft to be on my desk at 9 tomorrow morning. You’re dismissed.” She gave them no opportunity to respond before picking up her pen and scribbling on paper.

Terry chuckled and stood from his seat. His noise caught her attention. She raised an eyebrow.

He raised one back. “You have a great evening, Ms. Taylor.”

She grumbled something under her breath but said nothing further as he left the office, and Jackson shuffled behind him.

Once they were far enough, Jackson said, “Told you she was a lot.”

Terry shrugged and walked toward the meeting room to receive instruction from one of his trainers. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hello! Remember that fic about Nanami and Gojo with a s/o who got disowned?

Could I request a sequel to that where Nanami/Gojo and s/o are out doing something (i.e. grocery shopping or whatever) and s/o's dad tries to beg (lit: demand and coerce) them to come back home by using their mother (who s/o is still close to and keeping contact with)?

part i

Nanami Kento

It had been several months since the incident involving [Y/N]’s banishment and, for all things considered, things had worked out pretty well.

Though exiled from her family, she had not lost her rank as a Special Grade. In many ways, they were a lot like Nanami now. Taking the missions that they wanted. Existing on their own just outside their world. And maintaining a life on their own.

Yuji was doing well too. It seemed the boy who everyone thought was more trouble than he was worth was balancing the scales quickly with how fast he was learning and becoming an asset. Despite Nanami’s harsh comments when they first met, which he now regrets. They were said out of frustration and defense of [Y/N]’s situation. One he blamed Yuji for, but now realized was misguided. The only one to blame was her father. A fact he intended to tell the man once he stopped talking.

“You need to come home.” He told [Y/N] after cornering them on the street outside a coffee shop. “Your mother needs you.”

“What’s wrong with mom?” [Y/N] asked. Curious, but concerned, for her other parent. A good heart to the end.

“That is irrelevant. She needs you. And as a good daughter, you will return home.”

“So, you wish for [Y/N] to return, not out of regret for your decisions, but because you need a maid for your wife.” Nanami butted in. Earning a glare from the clan head. “You have more than enough resources to hire anyone to assist with your wife, if she needs it.” He is not convinced that she does. Just another ploy to keep [Y/N] at bay. “You don’t need [Y/N].”

“It is the duty of children to care for their parents!”

“And it is the duty of parents to protect their children.”

The men glare at each other furiously. Which was possibly the worst time for Yuji to come out of the coffee shop. “Sorry that took so long. The line for the toilet was crazy.” As usual, he walked right into it. Realizing too late that he had made a mistake. “What’s….going on?”

“That’s him. Isn’t it.” Her father accused. It wasn’t a question. Everyone knew who Yuji was at this point. “You’re the boy that ruined my daughter’s life!”

Yuji looked hurt and confused, but [Y/N] stepped in front of him quickly. “Don’t say that to him!”

“This is all your fault!” Her father shouted again. “If you had just taken your execution like a man, then my daughter would be home with her family. Instead, she defies the council and is banished all for someone like you!”

“Wh…I didn’t…I…-“Yuji didn’t banish me father. You did!” [Y/N] snapped. Nanami hadn’t seen her this mad in a long time. Much less against her family. “Yuji is a kind, honest, genuine boy. A boy. And you all just expect him to be at the end of a very short life, just because it’s convenient for you. Well, he won’t be convenient for you, father. Nor will I. Just…go home.”

Her ferocity waned for a moment near the end, but [Y/N] stood her ground. Her father seemed to want to say something but closed his mouth quickly under Nanami’s stare. Daring him to speak.

The man sucked on his teeth, then went to an idling car and was driven away. “Was all that true?” Nanami & [Y/N] turned to Yuji. Who, despite his height, looked incredibly small. “Were you really kicked out of your family because of me?”

[Y/N] looked hurt for a moment, but then smiled and wrapped her arms around Yuji. “No. My family has its own problems. Same as any. It’s just….a little more complicated with sorcerer families.” They assure Yuji that it wasn’t his fault and they continue their day together.

Nanami wasn’t sure what he should do. If he should do something. He was proud of [Y/N] though for standing their ground. Perhaps he would tell them that later. Perhaps not.

Gojo Satoru

“Good thing leeks were on sale. It was a nice opportunity to stock up.”

“I hate leeks.” Gojo grumbled.

“You hate any vegetable.” [Y/N] quipped back. To which he couldn’t really argue. “You need to eat more of them though. Living with you these past few months, I realized your diet is terrible. All sugar and instant coffee. How your body hasn’t just given up on you is a wonder to me.”

“Eh~ but you’ll never give up on me, will you [Y/N].” He teased. Waging his eyebrows behind his glasses before he leaned in to give them a kiss.

“[Y/N].” The couple stopped being cute when they heard her name. Both surprised to find her father there.

“Otōsan?” [Y/N] said in a hushed tone as she pulled away from Gojo. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home.” He said it like a child who had been out to play for too long. Not a grown woman who had been banished from her family and position by his own hand. “The car is waiting.”

“So [Y/N] is just supposed to jump when you say how high?” Gojo cut in with a mocking sneer. “I’m not hearing an apology in there. Maybe my ears are clogged.”

“Apology? I have no apology to offer.” Gojo flicked his imaginary ear wax at the other man after ‘cleaning his ears’. “If anything, it is you who should apologize. It was your doing that brought disgrace to our family.”

“Oh yeah?” Gojo drawled. “And how did I do that?”

“By leading her down this ridiculous path to question the council!” The older man snapped. “They made their decision, and we must obey. That is the law. That is her place!”

“My place is wherever I choose.” [Y/N] cut in to her father’s ranting. “I chose to stand up to the council because their decision was wrong. Gojo didn’t make me. And now I’m choosing to stay with him because it’s what I want to do.” Gojo never felt so proud. “I don’t have to or want to follow your path anymore, father. You banishing me was the greatest thing you could do for me. Our time apart has perhaps let you realize your mistake, but I’ve only realized its blessing. Now, go home.”

The man looked ready to burst, but did not seem to have it in him to argue further. He instead turned tail and went to the car to be driven home. “I have never been more attracted to you in my life.”

[Y/N] scoffed at Gojo’s comment. Finding it funny, but still clearly hurt she had to turn her family away. “Thanks. You still have to eat the leeks tonight.”

“Oh darn…” Gojo pouted, but still wrapped his arm around [Y/N] as they head back home.

He supposed as long as [Y/N] was there to make them, then he guessed leeks weren’t that bad.

[andy-wm]

Please love me is Jimin's line today

The hardest few seconds for me to watch, were these...

Jimin was absolutely dreading appearing on screen without his trademark beautiful hair.

We know he left it as late as he could and didn't want to show anyone.

He looked like he was barely holding it together when he called attention to his hair being shaved. He must have genuinely been scared of the reaction he would get, even from Kook.

"It looks good on you"

Jungkook, you absolute fucking LEGEND 💜

He knew exactly what to say.

When Jungkook told Jimin he looked good (even with no hair) Jimin turned his face away <those feels choking him up> and when he turned back, the almost desperate look of gratitude mixed with relief was so clear.

Please love me is Jimin's line today.

This is not about vanity, ego or pride.

It brings home how fragile his confidence is. His need for approval and the assurance of being loved is strong. It’s so heartbreaking, but we know he hasn't had an easy road.**

Thankfully he did stand a little bit taller once JK reassured him...

But it wasn't an easy moment for Jungkook either.

Whether because he had to witness Jimin's fear and could do nothing more than pet his head, or because he was facing his own misgivings (probably both) he looked equally lost in that moment.

Remember that these boys have left their home once before and journeyed to a place that was less than welcoming. They've had to face the grim, disproving faces of unkind critics and a system that didn't support or value them.

I don't doubt there were echoes of that feeling on this day, that same sense of trepidation they've known before.

We know how the military treats men like them.

And then...

we got this:

You can take the boy out of Busan but you can't take Busan out of the boy.

(People say this about my home town too...)

The shadow of fear is still there in his eyes but.... he looks like a (very hot) backstreet thug who will absolutely fuck you up no questions asked.

It does occur to me that MS might be the reason Jimin has been learning to fight.

I mean really learning to fight.

Yes he's probably doing boxing too but i suspect something more than that ... you shouldn't get torn knuckles from boxing lessons unless you aren't wrapping your hands properly, just saying.

<Gotta love a person who can hold you and cradle your head, and also knock down an aggressor when they have to.>

If all else fails (words before fists, right?) I hope he can handle himself.

If he must defend himself, and someone (not him) looks like they've had a close encounter with his fists, I saw nothing.

I hope for both of them, their background will serve them well. In any case they will support one another and their love will see them through this. It's exactly why they are enlisting as companions.

🐰🐥

This is no easy journey, for these young men (all seven of them) or for their families, their friends, and their loved ones. Yes, it's reality of life for every person in Korea, but that doesn't make it easier when it's YOU or YOUR person who is going away.

I am seeing them off with an in ache in my chest - I know we all are. But I'm toasting their successful military service, and their quick return.

짠 지민아, 정국이! We love you 💜💛

See you soon, Angels.

** 'Hurry up and be me soon' ...

Some of us know how much it costs to put our authentic self out into the world. The sacrifices you have to be willing to make are huge. You're not only exposing your own vulnerabilities, but the flow on effect for your family and friends is real.

<talking specifically about Jimin here... how many times do you think his parents will have to say 'no, Jimin doesnt have a girlfriend, and no he isn't looking for one... No he doesn't plan to marry'.>

It's a long journey to self love and acceptance...

We know Jimin has been through a number of iterations of himself. He's been through the tough guy phase, the closed book, the siren, aloof and sophisticated, and the gently feminine.

The image he presents to the world is as much a construct as any person's is - and whether you're aware of this or not, all our public selves are social constructs.

"One size does not fit all" for queer people

For cis gendered heterosexual people, society has a few different ready-made constructs you can adopt, and the rest of society automatically understands the message you're sending. Most of them maintain the status quo of heterosexual cultural norms.

For anyone who DOESNT fit those norms, it's honestly never going to feel good expressing an image that isnt really you. Its like trying and make your circle self fit in a square box.

But theres nothing else that's readily available...

You really have to construct your public image from scratch.

When you aren't part of that typical demographic, figuring out how you want to be seen by the world can be an arduous and complex process.

How much do you reveal? How much do you risk?

You'll experiment with styles, behaviours, and social groups until you find a safe space you can occupy.

Jimin's safe space is with ARMY or his members, but it requires looking perfect.

Think about Jimin's hesitance to appear on camera without makeup. How carefully he chooses his clothes - whether for airport appearances, stage performance or out on the street. He usually has a team of people making sure he looks perfect. His hair is a trademark feature. It's always beautiful.

Remember that he's used to EVERYONE LOOKING AT HIM, ALL THE TIME.

Imagine how it feels to go out in public - against your will - with a shaved head.

Without hair, he would have surely felt naked. Plus, he's no longer in the safe embrace of ARMY, and his buffer of security and managers keeping him out of danger is gone.

He's immensely famous, but not universally loved (don't even go there) and bald, and small, and an IDOL, and very gay ... lets go with unlikely to be heterosexual.

No wonder he was feeling vulnerable.

Ngl, it broke my heart to see him so afraid but I'm sure he'll have a substantial group of supporters around him. I can only hope.

💜💛

[lost-between-letters]

Pick me up?

Pairing: Dean Winchester & daughter!reader (she/her)

Requested by: @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 798

Warnings: crying, hurt/comfort (heavy on the comfort though)

Summary: Your night makes a turn for the worse. But you have a dad who actually picks up his phone and listens

A/N: look who's not dead (me). I decided to abandon the tag list because I'm not sure how updated it is anymore

This was worse than any monster he had ever faced before, Dean decided. Certain death by the next most freaky thing this world could come up with? A piece of cake compared to this.

His little girl. His pretty, brave, witty daughter shaking with gutwrenching sobs, clinging to his jacket like her life depended on it - mere seconds after he'd stopped the car in front of the house she and her friends had gone to for the night.

Dean wanted to go back into that frat-house, and find the fucker who made his girl cry like that. But Y/N was here, holding onto him, and if there was one thing he had learned on the road, then it was to know when to pick your battles.

So he didn't act on the violent thoughts threatening to cloud his mind and instead hugged Y/N tighter. He cupped the back of her head, easing over the messy up-do that must have come undone at some point of her night out, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Seeing Y/N smile again was more important than finding the cause of her tears. For now.

But it was freezing here, and he had a perfectly functioning car right behind him. A car Dean knew his daughter loved just as much as he did.

"Sweetheart, how do you feel about getting out of here?"

She burrowed her head deeper into his chest and nodded. "Please, dad."

So he carefully extracted himself from the hug and followed her around the car to open the door for her. She slid in without another word and immediately curled up in the seat.

It tore at his heart. To see his outgoing daughter - the same girl who'd faced down a phalanx of angry ghosts while giving her uncle shit for his fighting techniques - so small. Dean took off his jacket, draped it over her frame and got in the car himself before she could comment.

The first few miles, he let the radio wash over them, pretending that he didn’t hear the quiet sniffles from the passenger seat. Dean didn't have a particular destination in mind - and he didn't need one. Y/N was much like Sam in that aspect - she didn't need space, she needed background noise, and a moving vehicle to stop her mind from spinning. And what was better than the low rumble of the impala and abandoned roads?

Soon, Y/N was drumming her fingers on her knees in time with the song, and Dean knew the worst was over.

He dared to look over at her fully now. "Wanna talk about it?"

She snorted. "That's Sam's line."

"Watch it," he threatened playfully, almost embarrassed by the all-consuming relief he felt at that little laugh.

"You watch it, old man." She shot back, but she was smiling as well.

The smile faltered as a thought, or maybe a memory, crossed her mind, and Y/N leaned her head against the window. The street lights illuminated the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I don't wanna talk about it."

No. That just wouldn't do. His daughter was not allowed to be sad, and Dean was about to find out who would pay for this.

"Sweetheart -"

"Please, dad." She tugged his jacket higher around her shoulders. "Not tonight. I don't want to think about it anymore."

After a long moment, Dean sighed. It wasn't like screaming would help. She'd just get stubborn and close off.

It wasn't even like Dean wanted to rage. Not at her, at least.

So he took a few deep breaths like Sam had advised him to (and gotten mercilessly ridiculed for) and nodded. "Okay. Not tonight."

Y/N smiled genuinely for the first time since she called him crying. "Thank you. For coming and picking me up."

Dean reached over and squeezed her knee. "That's what dads are for, Y/N. I'll always come when you need me."

He would. He'd promised her when she was just a wrinkly frowny ball of newborn, tiny eyes blinking up at him in that wretched hospital. Dean would be there for his daughter, whether it was guns blazing and fighting or nights curled up under blankets with only chocolate and heating pads - because growing up was a lonely affair without someone you could hold onto. But his little girl would never have to find that out firsthand. Dean made sure of that.

"So you'll agree to watch Mamma Mia with me?" She looked at him hopefully, knees pulled up on the seat, her eyes still red and swollen. "Auntie Charlie got me the DVD, and it really would cheer me up now. Please, dad?"

Dean groaned. Since when had she gotten so devious?

"Fine, you little monster."

[differenteagletragedy]

No thoughts, just Our Life Swap AU.

A couple of days ago someone requested a swap AU in which Baxter is MC's neighbor, Cove is the friend who lives in the city and Derek is the boy who stays for the summer and I have not been the same since.

Here is the first thing I wrote about it, and here is another!

"Do you know what RV stands for?"

"Yes, Baxter."

"I believe you may think you do -- a common misunderstanding is that it stands for 'recreational vehicle.' In reality --"

"Shut it, little boy," Liz called down from the loft.

You smiled at Baxter, and he returned it. You were in an RV that your moms had rented, headed for a quick camping trip to Redwood National Park. You and your best friend were sitting on the couch in the little living area of the vehicle while your moms were up front, taking turns driving.

Baxter had been making up stories to pass the time, and it seemed that Liz had heard one too many.

"My apologies, Elizabeth," he called up to her. "I forgot you don't care for whimsy or fun anymore."

"Why are you even here?" she replied.

He had been in good spirits, chatting away, but that seemed to have brought him down. He shot a quick smile at you, then looked away.

Your parents had invited him along -- after five years of the two of you being nearly inseparable, he was often invited to family outings. Your moms always made sure to include him too because his own parents weren't the kindest people.

At first, Baxter's parents had refused. They didn't like your moms, for some reason you'd never been able to figure out. Luckily, a business trip came up for his father and they decided to give in to his relentless requests to accompany you, knowing that their only child could make things difficult if he wanted. It was easier for them not to deal with him on the trip.

Their loss, you thought.

Before he could get too lost in thought, you leaned over and nudged his shoulder. He nudged you back, a smirk reappearing.

"Don't mind Liz," you told him quietly. "You're here because you belong here."

His smirk turned into a full-on beam.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, you'd arrived to your camping spot at the park, but it was too dark to explore. But the next morning, bright and early, the five of you went out to see the sights.

Your moms led the easy hike on one of the trails, and Liz wandered behind them. You and Baxter brought up the rear.

"This is amazing," he said in genuine awe, looking up at the trees. Every once in a while, he would pull his attention away from the scenery to look at you warmly.

"Was it like this in your old town?" you asked. You knew he'd lived in Oregon before moving to Sunset Bird, and he'd talked about missing the trees.

"No, not quite," he answered. "There were forests, but nothing like this."

Before you could say anything else, Liz fell back to walk in line with you. You gave a preemptive eyeroll.

"Is this up to your standards, rich boy?" she teased.

"I'm having a very nice time," he replied. And it was true -- too nice a time to start his usual bickering with your sister.

"Good," she said. "Because once you officially join the family, this is the kind of sickening wholesomeness you're in for."

"I could think of worse fates," he told her, shooting you a glance.

You'd been nursing a crush on Baxter for a while now, and comments like that made you think sometimes that he had a crush on you, too. It was almost enough to make you say something, but your sister's teasing would really turn relentless then.

Liz hung back, teasing you for a while longer before getting bored and going back up to your moms. After a few hours, with a lunch break tossed in, the hike was over and you were back at the RV.

Your sister promptly went inside and shut the door behind her. Your moms laughed, but then Baxter approached them.

"I was wondering if it would be all right if we went on another short walk," he said, looking back at you. "Not too far, and I'll be sure we're back well before dark."

They had a moment of silent communication, then you saw your ma give a slight nod.

"All right, but not too far," Mom said. "And stay on the trail."

"Absolutely," Baxter said. He held his arm out to you, and you took it. Then you were off.

"Why did you want to come back out?" you asked, trying to sound casual even though you were buzzing with excitement. You tried to keep the hand that held onto his arm steady.

"I thought it was too nice of a day to end so quickly," he said. "I wanted more time out here. More time with you."

You blushed, and he smiled fondly at you.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" you asked before you could reconsider.

"Why wouldn't I?" He seemed genuinely confused. "It's lovely here. You're a lovely person." He leaned closer to your ear and said, "My favorite person, actually."

Your cheeks grew hotter.

Baxter laughed, then said, "You're also adorable."

It was a little forward, even for him, so you decided to take the opportunity to bring up something you'd been wondering about for a while.

"Can I ask you something?" you began.

"Always."

"Why haven't you dated anyone?"

He didn't say anything right away, and you didn't have the nerve to look at him. But out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw his own cheeks turning pink.

"I was just wondering," you added, "since you sort of flirt with everybody all the time."

"Do I?" he asked with a laugh. You did give him a look then, and he said, "I don't actually, you know. Not at school."

"Really?"

"Really."

It was your turn to pause. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, but you'd just assumed he was the same way with everyone else that he was with you.

"I'm polite," he explained. "I try to be friendly. I can't help being a little bold. But I don't ... you're the only one who gets this version of me."

You were trying to figure out how to respond, but nothing came. Your thoughts were racing with this new revelation, and before you could say anything, he stopped.

"It'll be getting dark soon," he said. "Time to go."

Baxter turned around, making a show out of offering you his other arm, and you laughed as you took it. Perhaps sensing the tailspin he'd put you in, he went back to joking around for the rest of the walk back to the campsite.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a fun evening with your family around the campfire, it was time for bed. Your moms went back to the bedroom, Liz stretched out on the couch and Baxter spread out his sleeping bag on the floor while you climbed up in the loft.

You tried to go to sleep, but your thoughts were still racing over everything Baxter had said. After a while, when you heard Liz's soft snores get into a steady rhythm, you peeked over the edge of the loft to see what your friend was doing.

You knew he was a night owl, and so you weren't surprised to see him lying on his stomach, reading a book he'd brought with him in the bright moonlight that filtered in through the windows. But you didn't expect him to look up at you just as you'd started watching him.

"Go to sleep," he mouthed at you, grinning.

"You first," you mouthed back.

He gracefully pulled himself out of his sleeping bag and slinked over to the ladder to the loft. He climbed it so that he was eye level with you, and said, "Can't sleep?"

"Doesn't seem so."

"Would you like some company?"

You gave him a confused look. He smiled softly and told you, "I'll tell you a bedtime story."

Intrigued, you scooted back against the wall, making room for him. He climbed under the blankets, laid out on his side, folding his arm under his head for a pillow, and started telling his story.

It was complete nonsense, as most of his stories were. There was something about mountain lions, and Bigfoot made an appearance. But as he went on, trying his best to make you laugh, he kept inching closer to you. A few times you were bold enough to do the same, and by the end you were pressed close.

"Can you sleep now?" he asked, his face just inches from yours.

"I can try."

[vilentia]

The Weight of Regret

Dean Forester x reader

part 1 | part 2

Dean sat on the couch, his hands trembling with fear and guilt. The weight of his mistake pressed heavily upon him, threatening to crush his very soul. His heart raced as he waited for you, his girlfriend, to come home. He knew that today was the day he would have to face the truth and confront the consequences of his actions.

As he heard the front door open, Dean's heart skipped a beat. He watched as you entered the room, your smile fading when you saw the anguish etched across Dean's face. You took a step forward, concern etching your features.

"What's wrong, Dean?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

Dean took a deep breath, his voice quivering as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago."

Your eyes widened, a hint of fear creeping into them. "What is it, Dean? You're scaring me."

Dean looked down at his hands, his heart aching with remorse. "I cheated on you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "With Rory."

Silence hung heavily in the room as you processed his words. You stood there, stunned and betrayed, unable to comprehend the depth of his deception. Dean's eyes welled up with tears, his breath hitching in his throat.

"I don't know why I did it," Dean continued, his voice breaking. "I thought I still had feelings for her, but being with her made me realize that it wasn't the same. It wasn't like it used to be."

Your face was a mask of disappointment, hurt etched into every line. You didn't say a word, your silence piercing Dean's heart. He panicked, fearing that his mistake had cost him the love of his life.

"Please, say something," Dean pleaded, sinking to his knees before you. "I'm begging you for forgiveness. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, and I don't want to lose you."

He wrapped his arms around you, desperately clinging to the last vestiges of hope. But your body remained stiff and unyielding. You didn't return the embrace, your disappointment too profound to be assuaged by his desperate pleas.

After what felt like an eternity, you gently pushed Dean away, your eyes filled with unshed tears. Your movements deliberate as you walked towards your bedroom. Dean's heart shattered as he watched you pack a few belongings into a travel bag.

"Please, don't leave," Dean begged, his voice cracking with anguish. "I can't bear to lose you."

You remained silent, your expression a mix of pain and resolve. You zipped up the bag, shouldering the weight of your broken trust. You looked at Dean, your eyes filled with disappointment and sorrow.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Dean," you said, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and strength. "I trusted you, and you betrayed me."

With those final words, you turned away from him, leaving your shared home without uttering another syllable. Dean fell to the floor, his body wracked with sobs. The sound of his heart breaking echoed through the empty house.

Alone and defeated, Dean remained on his knees, the weight of his mistake crushing him. The house grew quiet, its silence a haunting reminder of the love he had lost. As his sobs filled the air, Dean realized the true cost of his actions.

He had let go of a love that was genuine and pure, tarnishing it with his indiscretions. And now, he was left with nothing but regret, as the realization of his irreparable mistake settled in his heart.