#he really thought he was going to kill her?

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

[lavnderwonu]

So High School | Kim Mingyu

pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader

rating: fluff, mature

genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship

summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.

warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.

word count: 3k

AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)

author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo

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I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...

Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe. 

You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,

“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!” 

Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.

But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu. 

Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.

You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...

Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days. 

You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove. 

“What are you making?”

“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”

You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes. 

He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.

You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.

“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.” 

“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?” 

You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.

“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.

“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.” 

Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”

“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.

“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.

You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.

“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”

“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.

“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”

You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.

“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge. 

“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”

You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.

“Fuck…”  He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.

He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.

“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.

You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.

“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.

“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”

“Never…”

Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...

The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.

“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.

“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.

“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.

“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that. 

You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.

“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”

You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.

You’re definitely glad it’s him.

“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.” 

“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.

“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”

“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”

“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.

“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list. 

You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket. 

You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.

“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”

You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?

“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head. 

“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”

I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...

“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”

“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone. 

It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else. 

“It’s almost time.”

“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”

“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”

“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.” 

“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.

“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”

“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.

You turn around, facing the two tests.

You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.

“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Good news?” She asks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness.  “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”

“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”

And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...

You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him. 

Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.

Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.

You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.

Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.

“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer. 

“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.

“But it’s better now that you’re here.” 

Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.

“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.

You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.

“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.

“Yes, very.” You smile.

“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.” 

“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.

Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.

“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction. 

He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.

No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.

“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”

“What?” 

“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom. 

You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.

“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”

“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.

“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.

Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.

“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?” 

“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.” 

You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”

You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”

“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.

“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you. 

“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him. 

“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”

Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.

“There you go…” 

You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. 

You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.” 

Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.

You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.

“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”

Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?” 

“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.

“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”

“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”

Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans. 

“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.” 

It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.

Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.

“What?” You ask when you notice him.

“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”

You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.” 

“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you. 

“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.” 

It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.

tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung

[nov4-rocket5]

You didn’t actually read Watchmen at all if you think that’s the conclusion he “wanted” readers to come to. The final words of it are, “I leave it entirely in your hands.” Literally telling the reader to come to their own conclusions on what happens next, who was right, and what it all meant. The outcome Moore thought would be best and what other readers thought would be best and how they all differ is a feature, not a bug.

He doesn’t even “side” with Veidt. The guy’s Superhero persona is literally named after a poem about all a man’s accomplishments crumbling to dust in the wind. Suppose there might have been a reason Moore picked that name in particular for a character?

Moore may be more blunt in his disliking of Rorschach now, but he’s also the only person who’s really worth liking, and the character who’s mindset and psychology are dug into the most out of Watchmen’s cast. And while Rorschach is indeed a very sympathetic and pitiable character, he’s also heavily flawed. FFS, the dude brushes off his idol sexually assaulting someone as a “moral lapse” because Rorschach projects his need for a strong father figure onto people like The Comedian or President Truman.

Speaking of Truman, Rorschach spends a lot of his journal praising the guy, particularly for dropping the atomic bombs for the greater good. But when Ozymandias makes a big convoluted space squid and drops it on a city for the same reason, Rorschach very quickly changes his tune. When Rorschach’s own logic and morality plays out in front of him and in his city, he can’t stand it and changes his tune.

Now, Truman and Veidt’s actions and circumstances aren’t exactly the same, but the comparison between Ozy and Truman is about the public moral argument from the government that people like Rorshach believes, which is that is was a bad thing that had to be done to prevent even more bloodshed. In the much more intense Cold War of Watchmen, Ozy's logic is exactly the same as Truman's, he killed some to save a lot more. Circumstances are different but the moral argument is the same.

But for all of Rorschach’s flaws and hypocrisy, it just makes him and his actions all the more interesting to dissect compared to the other characters Watchmen follows.

Daniel is a superhero because birds and airplanes are neat. Laurie's there because her mom said so. Jon's there because of the government. Eddie wants to kill minorities for the epic win lolz. Rorschach's there because he has been the victim and no one helped him. It's why he does what he does even when there seems little point and the act is ultimately futile.

And that status as a victim is why he's the only one with the guts to tell Adrian to piss off. Jon, Dan, and Laurie can dismiss the deaths of millions in the name of the greater good, but Walter Kovacs can't, because he is those people.

Consider who dies in the blast. It's the Bernies. The lesbian couple. The shitty part of New York where Walter lives. Mrs. Sharip (who reminded Walter of his mother) and her children are very likely killed by Adrian's actions. These are people that Walter Kovacs saw every single day and now they're dismissed as suitable foundations for Adrian's plans.

And hey, once the Cold War is over and the Russians back off, what's the stop Veidt Industries from going global?

Walter is different from all the other characters because he's not a "hero". He's the victim. Being a working class, illegitimate abuse survivor in instrumental to his every action as Rorschach.

TL;DR: No, Moore didn’t side with Ozymandias or Rorschach, he just told a story and left it up to the readers on what it all meant.

[smoozie]

Did not just watch a full episode of Wild Life in which both of Grian's teammates desperately try to get kills and both end up on red despite (and often because of) their effort, for you guys to keep saying Scar and Jimmy are getting eliminated next episode.

Jimmy has five fucking kills man. He's doing GREAT!! I know that people are attached to the canary curse, and this is Wild Life so I understand anything can happen, but come on. I will admit I don't have high hopes for Jimmy, but I really think people are selling him short this season.

Yeah Scar failed like eight traps this session, but he's still doing well. Ya know why? Because he's good at taking advantage of a situation. That man has six kills on Etho alone for a reason. Do none of you remember last season when Gem attacked Scar early on during the boogeyman apocalypse because she thought he would be an easy kill, and she had to RETREAT because he did too much damage on her?!?

The worst part is that no one is even claiming Jimmy and Scar are in danger for reasonable things, like the fact that Grian (who has the HIGHEST kill count in the series) has just declared them his number one enemies. Everyone is acting like they're both just going to throw themselves off cliffs three times next episode. Like yeah they can both be reckless players but they aren't stupid. They know to stay safe on red. Scar especially performs well on red. (He is a LOT like Joel)

Speaking of which! The Bamboozlers have happily made an alliance with the Family. Two of the strongest pvp players on the server. "But Jimmy killed Joel" yeah and Joel congratulated him because he thought it was a good kill. Scar and Lizzie have had alliances with the Family for a while, now that Jimmy's green there's no bad blood between them. And while I don't think Gem or Joel are gonna die saving any Bamboozlers (well, Joel might for Lizzie), having them on their side may slightly deter Grian's posse considering their desperate attempts on the Family's lives this episode.

POINT BEING: The Bamboozlers are ALL in a really good place at the end of this episode. Their whole team is green, they've secured an alliance with the Family, and they're all competent players. Y'all should be really worried about Mumbo right now. I'm worried about Mumbo.

[wasyago]

Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it

hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not

everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.

❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.

❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.

❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!

and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.

he did die tho, so. whomp whomp 🎺... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...

and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.

actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.

the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.

the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.

the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.

this au is so sad but i love it so much...

okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!

[gremlin-bot]

There is No Closure, Just Adapting To Life

Ao3 link: Here Master list: Here

Summary:

Danny should have asked more questions before accepting the request to fix a different dimension's time stream from Clockwork. He didn’t think he would be de-aged and live a different life where he would latch on to a new family and friends. It was nice being a part of a community of heroes.

It really wouldn’t have been that bad if he stayed there. Too bad that he was pulled from that world and back into his old one, both fulfilling his wish to see his original family and killing all the relationships with his new ones.

Now he has to figure out how to live in his original dimension again. And maybe, just maybe find a way to visit the one he forcefully left behind.

Chapter 1: Your trial period is over; your account has been put on hold.

Danny shouldn't be thinking about the past life he lived, shouldn't think about the parents who adopted him only to disappear for months at a time, nor the vigilante family he’d inserted himself into during their time of need. That life wasn't his to begin with! Just a dimension with a timeline that needed fixing in an unconventional way. 

So, why is he crying? 

He just got back to his home, time hadn’t passed here. He can see Sam, Tucker, and Jazz again! (He'll never see Cass, Jason, Dick, Damien, Steph, Kon –) He's more experienced and better at fighting now. He can protect Amity better! (He misses Gotham. The city seemed to make heroes feel like magic) Danny has his original life back… but damn it, he wants to go back! He doesn't want to protect a city alone again! 

Danny curls into himself on his bed. Silent sobs racking his body. He's so different than he was before. His hair was longer and parted in the middle, nothing like his usual, (old), fringe style. His missing scars and the new ones he can't explain. Gods-  (No, wait, it's Ancients) he is missing his spleen! How was he going to explain that, or any of this? Even as his sobs grew more violent, their volume didn't increase. 

A trick he learned in the Wayne manor. 

He didn't want to disturb anyone with his half remembered dreams of a different life.

Danny took a shuddering breath, the feelings he’d been trying to bury since his return hitting him full force. He’d been sucked back to his original dimension without warning a day ago. Clockwork, that bastard, didn't even give him time to say goodbye to the rest of the Bats and Birds. He was in his apartment as Tim Drake one second and plopped in Danny Fenton's bedroom the next. 

His talk with the older ghost didn't make the situation any better. 

He didn't explain anything! Just that his work in that dimension's timeline was done. If Clockwork hadn't time locked the portal Danny would've been in the ancient’s lair instead of dissociating in a room that doesn't feel like his anymore. He hates not being given a choice or having a plan. 

Jason was right; anger was so much easier than actually dealing with your feelings.

His spiraling was stopped when he heard a soft knock on his door. Oh, he’d forgotten that Jazz was home. Living through a lifetime made him forget a lot about his first one. He didn't get time to follow the new spiral of thoughts before his sister opened the door. 

"Danny?" Her voice was soft, laced with worry.

"Yeah," He hates how hoarse his voice sounds.

 He should be better than this; he’s infiltrated the league of assassins for Ancients’ sake. He watched as she approached his bed, buried beneath blankets. He can hear when she actually sees him by her gasp. 

"What happened?" Jazz asked as she sat on the bed facing him.

"I… I fixed a timeline in a different dimension for Clockwork." Danny can't bring himself to look at her. Everything is still fresh. The feeling he can just barely comprehend as grief has yet to settle inside him. He takes a deep breath. He can compartmentalize this and deal with it after Jazz leaves.

"How long were you gone this time, a month or two?" Jazz looks at him with unending patience and care. 

"17 years," He whispers hesitantly.

"Oh… oh, Danny." He couldn’t have prepared himself for the shock and pained confusion on her face. She leaned her over him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Oh, he can't compartmentalize this after all. Danny’s breath hitched as fat tears began rolling down his face, dampening his pillow even more. His life as Tim made him forget what it was like to have unending support from a sibling. He loved the hodge podge of the Waynes, but he was a vigilante first. He wasn’t really family.

Just a coworker.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too much. Just know that I’ll always be here for you little brother,” Jazz’s voice was gentle. Oh, did he miss her during those years. Cass and Barbara helped him cope with missing Jazz whether they knew it or not.  He turned into her, relishing in the fact she was here. He may be missing a whole new family, but he got his old one back.

“I missed you, Jazz. Can you stay here with me for a little while?” He pleaded between silent sobs.

“Of course. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

---------—x—---------

Tim woke up to the sound of typing and the sight of red hair. He must have crashed at Barbara’s last night. He sits up, not fully awake just yet.

“Morning, Babs,” he yawns, eyes blurry. 

The gentle but persistent clicking of keys stops with a hitch of her breath. "Danny, it's me Jazz. Is Babs someone you were close to… before?" 

The voice he hears back isn't Barbara's.

It's one he barely recognizes now, made even harder to place with the barely covered pain. Jazz deserves a better brother than him. 

What kind of brother is he, that he doesn't even remember his own sister at first glance. 

Danny takes a deep shaky breath. No, he can't think like that. He hasn't seen her in 17 years, Of course he isn't going to recognize her. Still she hasn't changed one bit. 

He can't tell if that makes it better or worse.

"Yeah" he croaks, voice rough from sleep and the lump that's formed in his throat. “She has hair like yours.”

“Oh… do you want to talk about it?” she offers awkwardly. She was completely out of her depth but still wanting to help in her own way. (Alfred would have loved to meet her.)

Danny shakes his head, pushing past the aching in his chest as he drags himself out of bed. He doesn't look back at Jazz, he doesn't want to see the pitying look in her eyes. Something ugly, angry, and raw always tends to creep into him when that particular emotion is directed at him, and she doesn't deserve that.

What a cruel joke that the one thing that he gets in spades in both lives is pity.

He needs a strategy if he plans to survive the next couple of days, (the rest of his life), and that starts small. Get ready and investigate what the hell was happening in his life before… his time mission. He lost so much time with his breakdown, how annoying. 

Tim (no, he's Danny now) huffs, opening his closet. Well before he starts anything he needs a damn shower. 

---------—x—---------

By the time Danny was clean and dressed, Jazz had left him with a journal with his name on it and her scrapbook. Ancients, she really is the best big sister. (Cass would contest that). 

He knows that he should dive into them right away, but… he can put it off a little longer. Remembering and relearning will take time, and he has all the time in the world now, whether he likes it or not. Diving deep will be too much. He’s too emotionally raw, and just needs something to latch on to, like: 

Next day survival plan 101, start small. 

He can look at Danny’s phone; he’ll figure out what to do with Tim’s later. Remember, one step at a time; one thing at a time. Finding the device was easy, it was on the nightstand where he always leaves it. Seems like this is one of the habits he kept in both lifes. Opening it up was easier than he originally expected; he really didn't have a sense of cybersecurity beyond Tucker back then.

(…Now?)

The device was familiar in so many different ways; he always did gravitate towards technology (with Tucker pushing him forward right next to him). The screen lit up, showing the basic layout of all phones; he dismissed notifications from dumb games, leaving the social media ones. What he was really looking for was his messages.

He had a couple new messages from Sam and Tucker in their group chat. He should look at the chat, but, in doing so, he'd be facing the people he had been grieving their missing presence for the last 17 years. A missing presence that had him picked up so many new hobbies, just because they reminded him of his two best friends. Danny would have never touched a camera if it wasn't for the ache in his chest everytime he passed a looming gargoyle. The hundreds of pictures will finally be seen by their intended audience, if he could only get himself to open the gods damned chat!

Shaky breath slips from his lips as he steadies his thoughts. Baby steps. Look at the messages and go from there.

— New Messages —

PettyWitch

Tucker I swear if your ass isn't up rn, I'm coming over and replacing all of the meat in your fridge with lettuce.

TFine

give me a sec 2 get down there you can stop calling me 

i'm not going to answer

what about Danny

how come you aren't calling HIM!!!!!

PettyWitch

Bc Danny can actually get up before noon during the weekends unlike other people in this chat! So he can be trusted to get to Nasty Burger on time. 

TFine

HEY!

Their banter goes on. Danny scrolls through it with a painful kind of fondness draping over him. A hole that once gouged his heart was being filled, only to have a different part get ripped out for the same reason. The people he missed will always have some type of mouth on them, especially one that gets them in trouble. Moving past the too fresh grief and focusing on the conversation at hand does bring about a pressing issue, he's supposed to meet up with Sam and Tucker soon.

Shit.

Looks like he's facing more ghosts of his past-turned-present sooner than he thought. It's Tucker and Sam. They stuck with him through his death and his first hero career. If anyone besides Jazz could sympathize with him, it was them. Resolve hardened like the Bat he is (was —there is no way back to them now), he spends the little remaining time flipping through pictures and looping handwriting as he pieces the memory of his old life back together.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

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[gingiesworld]

Ghost (2/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 4.8k+

MINORS DNI 18+

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong @alexawynters (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

It was a struggle for Y/N to settle in to living at the compound, although it was a comfort to them for Wanda also being there, when she’s not on missions, it was hard for them to be completely comfortable, knowing that the others didn’t really trust them.

“Welcome back girls.” Steve smiled once both Wanda and Nat returned from their recon mission, Wanda could sense that Y/N wasn’t at the compound.

“Where’s Y/N?” She questioned before greeting the team.

“They went on their own mission.” Tony informed her.

“In other words, killing in cold blood.” Steve scoffed, earning a glare from Wanda.

“It’s not cold blood if it stops Hydra from ever forming again.” Bucky retorted, turning Steve’s attention to him.

“You don’t know that these people have links to Hydra, for all we know it could just be their own hitlist.” Steve countered, watching as Bucky shook his head.

“You don’t understand Steve.” He spoke calmly. “You were never a part of Hydra, you were never their puppet, manipulated into doing their work. You were always the good one, on the good side.”

“That doesn’t mean that what they’re doing is right.” Steve raised his voice slightly.

“So, would you rather there be a chance that Hydra rebuilds, without any one being able to stop it?” Bucky questioned. “Innocent people going missing for them to be experimented on and tortured?”

“We would be able to stop it the right way.” Steve tried, making Wanda chuckle dryly.

“No, we wouldn’t.” She spoke up. “What Y/N is doing is the right way, they are making sure that no innocent people will ever be hurt again, no families would experience the loss that we have all endured, that Y/N has endured.”

“This is unbelievable.” Steve muttered as he turned to walk away.

“They’re right, Frosty.” Tony added, making Nat chuckle at the nickname. “Y/N’s way is more of a preventative measure.”

“Do you agree with this?” He asked Natasha, who looked him straight in the eyes.

“If I thought there was a chance that someone would rebuild the Red Room, I would do what Y/N is doing right now.” Natasha told him honestly, her arms crossed. “So yes, I do agree with them.”

“But these people have families of their own.” He tried as Nat shrugged.

“It stops them from brainwashing their children, or grandchildren into thinking Hydra would be the solution to every government or world issue.” She told him firmly. “Governments, politicians and agencies all have their own agendas to benefit themselves, I remember you once said that when you went against the Sokovian Accords to protect your best friend.”

“Bucky was innocent, we all know this.” Steve tried weakly, knowing he was losing his argument.

“I still have a lot of blood on my hands, innocent blood.” He reminded him. “It doesn’t matter if I was under their mind control and had no idea what I was doing, but it was still my hands that followed through on their orders, the assassinations.” With that Steve just walked out, leaving them all behind in a huff.

“When will he get that self righteous icicle from up his ass?” Y/N spoke from behind them, making everyone turn around, the smile on their face growing as their eyes met Wanda’s.

“You’re back?” Wanda questioned as Y/N nodded. “I thought you would be gone longer?”

“I am, as they say, efficient at my job.” They smirked, making her shake her head.

“I’m happy you’re back.” She told them, patting their arm awkwardly before she stepped away. “I am going to get cleaned up.” She said as she started her way towards her room, Nat followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

“What was that?” Nat questioned as Wanda shrugged, feigning ignorance. “You know exactly what I mean, Wanda, with the awkward pat.”

“What do you want me to say?” Wanda questioned as she sat on the edge of her bed. “That I have some unresolved feelings, especially since they came back into my life after spending a couple of years thinking they had died in my arms.” She sighed as she began to play with the sleeves of her sweater. “Truthfully, I don’t have any unresolved feelings towards them, because I know how I felt about them. I remember the feeling as though it was yesterday and I still have those feelings, maybe even stronger now.”

“But what about Vision?” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“I don’t know, I know I felt something for him, but with Y/N it’s different.” Wanda admitted. “I can’t quite explain it because I never thought I would ever feel as safe as I did when I was in Hydra.” She chuckled lightly before continuing. “I know how weird that sounds, given Hydra’s history and all, but they made me feel safe, I knew that while I was there, I wouldn’t ever come into harm's way, neither did my brother. Y/N cared for the both of us, unlike any of the other guards who worked there.”

“What about when they weren’t there? They must have needed to take a day or two.” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“They were there every day, without fail.” Wanda told her. “Or they had the only other guard they knew that they could trust, watch over us while they accompanied Strucker. Y/N saved both myself and Pietro, on multiple occasions, knowing just how it would end for them if they ever got caught.”

“You were in love with them.” Nat stated, earning a shush from Wanda.

“I was.” She whispered before she looked at her hands. “And I still am.” She admitted. “But I don’t know what to do, I’m not even sure I am ready for it myself, especially with Vision in the picture.”

“You do know, you will have to choose.” Nat told her. “You know both of them would want you to be happy, no matter what or who you decide.”

“I know.” Wanda took a deep breath. “But I am not ready to lose anyone else, not yet, not ever.”

“I’m sorry about Steve.” Bucky spoke as he entered the training room, seeing Y/N at the weights. “He thinks that there is always a choice, especially when people's lives are in our hands.”

“But how many people has he killed during war? How many enemies has he killed during missions?” Y/N questioned, putting the weights down. “He thinks he is doing good, following orders like the good soldier, for the same government in which Hydra had hidden inside of over the decades.”

“Trust me, I understand where you are coming from.” Bucky started before being cut off by them.

“You don’t understand.” They told him. “Once he knew that you were still alive, he never gave up on you, he fought to get you back to being you. He is your friend, your brother in arms, I never had anyone who would fight for me like that. I had my family taken away from me, I watched them die before my own eyes and I was just a stupid kid who couldn’t save them.” They took a shaky breath before continuing. “I couldn’t save my younger brother. He was barely five years old and he died in my arms. Strucker watched me break on that night, he took away the last bit of happiness and hope I had left. So yeah, I remained with Hydra, following through on the orders I was given, that was until I met Wanda and Pietro. They reminded me what it meant to be family, to have someone who would go to the literal ends of the earth for you, because they would have died for each other, and their home. They reminded me that, maybe yeah, working with Hydra isn’t the greatest choice, hell, it’s not smart either but they only joined because they were misled, Hydra took their beliefs, their faith and used it for their own gains, making themselves two weapons that would match the greatness of the Winter Soldier. Steve may have seen war over the years he’s been on top, but he hasn’t seen the same war that you and I have so he doesn’t understand.” Bucky only nodded, knowing they were right with everything they had just told him. “Not everyone’s war is the same war, whether it be physical or mental.” With that they walked away, heading up towards the kitchen to grab some water.

“You’re new here.” A voice sounded as Y/N opened the fridge.

“Unfortunately, I am.” They answered, turning to face a teenager.

“Are you an Avenger?” He questioned excitedly.

“Not really, no.” Y/N answered him honestly. “Are you?” They questioned him.

“No, Mr Stark doesn’t think I’m responsible enough.” He told them, jumping down from the counter. “But I am your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” He smiled confidently.

“Oh, so you’re the bug kid?” They teased him with a smirk.

“No, I’m Spiderman.” He answered them seriously.

“Just a question, how do you manage to climb walls or ceilings, if it's because your skin is like that of a spiders, how does that work through the costume?” They asked him, a serious expression on their face.

“I don’t really know.” He pondered, thinking about it. “I never really thought about it.”

“I’m only joking, kid.” They told him with a light chuckle, heading towards the exit. “I need to go and shower, but it was nice meeting you Spiderman.”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” He held out his hand for them to shake.

“Y/N.” They introduced themselves before heading straight to their room, Steve entering shortly after they left.

“Don’t interact with them.” He ordered Peter. “You don’t know what kind of killer they are.”

“Technically, aren’t we all killers in some way.” Peter told him honestly.

“They are different, dangerous and untrustworthy.” Steve told him sternly.

“I think I can trust my own judgment Mr Rogers.” Peter told him confidently before retreating towards Tony’s lab, leaving Steve defeated.

As the days went on, Y/N still remained distant from the rest of the team, only going to the kitchen for food or water, and training at night while everyone was either asleep or occupied with other things. One night, they never expected to have company whilst they were doing their own training.

“Hey.” Nat spoke up as she entered the room, watching as Y/N soon started to put down the equipment they were using.

“I was just finishing up.” They started before grabbing their belongings and heading towards the exit.

“I didn't want you to leave, Y/N.” Nat told them calmly. Y/N observed her, trying to figure out what she wanted. “I know it’s hard for you to settle in here right now, especially with Steve on his high horse.”

“What are you trying to get across?” Y/N asked her, tilting their head as Nat shuffled on her feet and glancing around the room.

“You were right, we all have blood on our hands, whether we intended or not.” She started, Y/N remained silent as they listened to her. “You are more alike to a vast majority of us here, we have all had a bad start in our careers but we had the chance to turn it around, fight for something that’s worth fighting for and Steve, he just doesn’t understand that. He has always fought for good, he has never had to endure the lack of choices the rest of us here have. He just doesn’t understand that sometimes freedom of choice isn’t always an option.”

“That’s not going to change how he sees me, he won’t ever trust me, not alone nor a part of this team.” They told her honestly.

“Then prove it to him.” She told them firmly. “Prove it that you can be trusted, not only as a part of this team but as a person.” Y/N then turned to walk away before she started to talk again. “You know, Wanda seems happier with having you here and back in her life. I’ve never really seen her so settled here, not before you came here.”

“She deserves to be happy.” Y/N spoke quietly, turning back to her once more. “That’s all I have ever wanted for her, to be happy and safe, and I know she is safe here with all of you.” With that they left the training room, leaving Nat alone in the empty room. Y/N had started to feel a new sense of belonging since having that conversation with Nat, feeling more at ease in their new home.

“So, you only have one more job left on your Hydra Agenda?” Maria questioned as she joined Y/N in their room, looking over the information they had gathered on the last name.

“Yeah, but this may be harder than all of the others.” They told her, giving her the folder. “Theodore is the head of an old Mafia family, his location is like a fortress.” They informed her. “It’s going to be harder for me to just sneak in and get the job done under the radar like I have all of the others.”

“And it seems he has doubled his security measures too.” She murmured as she combed through the pages. “So you’re going to need a team.”

“But with this one, we may be able to take down this whole organization itself.” Y/N stated. “It will help the local police too, especially since most of the crime here is caused by them.”

“We can always talk to Fury about putting a team together and then we can take them.” Maria told them. “I’ll speak with Fury and see if we can spare a team of SHIELD agents and when we can get this job done.” Y/N thanked her before she left their room, shortly after Wanda entered, leaning against the door frame.

“Hey.” She spoke softly, gaining their attention, gesturing to her to come inside.

“Hey.” They smiled awkwardly as they turned their desk chair to face her. “Are you okay?” They asked as they watched her walk around their room, observing the decor.

“You haven’t decorated, you know, like made this room your own.” She told them as she turned to face them.

“Well, I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to do.” They admitted shyly. “I haven’t really thought of colours or anything else like that since, well you know.” They looked down at their hands, sadness evident in their posture.

“That’s okay.” Wanda reassured them. “Maybe we can make this room more your style if you’d like.”

“I don’t even know what my style is.” They chuckled as they rose from their chair, heading towards their closet. “I think I just dress in the same colours of my uniforms, which luckily is always black.” They didn’t watch as Wanda found an old picture of herself and Pietro when they were teens.

“You found this?” She questioned as she picked it up, a small smile on her face.

“I uh, Maria found it on the ground near me when they found me.” They admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t not keep it, I know this is going to seem messed up but you and Pietro were like the only family I had ever had over the years. You both made me see what it was like to finally have hope and someone who would always have your back.”

“It’s not messed up.” She whispered shakily, her eyes burning into Y/N’s, neither of them breaking away. “I just thought it was lost forever.”

“No.” They shook their head. “I lo..” They stopped before thinking carefully what to say. “I like having that picture around, because it reminded me of the two of you.”

“You know, Pietro thought highly of you, even with your position at Hydra.” She told them as she placed the photo back down. “When we thought you died, he uh, he was almost as broken as I was.” She admitted as she sat down on the edge of their bed, playing with her fingers.

“I am sorry.” They apologised once more, only for Wanda to wave it off.

“You don’t need to keep apologising for that.” She chuckled lightly as she looked in their eyes, her gaze soft as she spoke. “The important thing is that you are here, you’re alive and I finally have you back.” She took a shaky breath as Y/N listened to her words. “I understand that you couldn’t come and look for me, and that’s okay.”

“I did want to find you.” Y/N admitted shyly. “I wanted to make sure that you were okay, that you were safe and well you are, given the circumstances.” They took a deep breath before they spoke once more, looking at her intensely. “I really am sorry about Pietro, he was a hero, not just to you or me, but to the whole world and your home.” Wanda nodded before she wiped her eyes, Y/N was quick to move to sit beside her, cautiously wrapping an arm around her.

“Thank you.” She sniffled as she looked at them as they sat beside her. “But, maybe we should go shopping for some paint and decorate this room. Get you out of this compound and maybe have some freedom from work.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” They agreed as they removed their arm from her. “Maybe after my last target.”

“Are you almost done with that list?” She questioned as Y/N nodded.

“I just have to assemble a team to accompany me on this one.” They told her. “Unfortunately, this last one knows that someone is onto them and well, it’s going to be extremely difficult to do my usual thing.”

“I can help.” Wanda started as Y/N shook their head no. “Why not?” She questioned as she stood up, her eyes burning into them.

“I just.” They started before they let go of a breath they were holding in. “Fury is picking the team so I don’t really have a choice who is joining me.” Wanda observed them, hoping they would say something else but only to receive silence.

“Okay.” Wanda pursed her lips before she headed towards the door, wanting to say something more but deciding not to as she left them alone in their room. Y/N looked at their door before they groaned and lay back on their bed.

“You know, it’s kind of sad how you both tip toe around each other.” Nat spoke up with a smirk as she leaned on their door frame.

“Are you sure you don’t have some sort of superpower?” Y/N questioned as she just chuckled.

“Nope, I am just extremely bored and well I have been asked to accompany you, Maria, Clint and some other agents on your next trip.” She informed them as she stepped in their room. “But you should really grow a pair of balls and tell her how you really feel.” She told them quietly as she stepped inside their room and closed the door.

“I don’t know what you mean.” They tried as Nat moved to sit in their desk chair.

“Yeah, you do.” She told them. “I can see how you look at her, ever since you came here you give her the same look every time.”

“I can’t tell her.” They said as they sat up, facing the Widow. “I just got her back and I don’t want to lose her again. I can’t do that again, she was my lifeline whilst we were both in Hydra, the one person who helped me hold on to the hope that I had already thought I had lost when I was younger.”

“Trust me, you won’t lose her.” Nat told them softly. “I can see just how important you are to her too.”

“Really?” They asked hopefully.

“Really, it’s kind of a hobby of mine to observe everyone and figure out things before anyone else does.” She told them with a smirk. “I don’t like to be the last to know, and it’s even better when I know things before Stark because he hates not always figuring things out.”

“Thank you.” Y/N spoke shyly as they picked at their cuticles. “It’s nice to have a friend, if that’s what we even are.” The two shared a laugh as Nat nodded.

“We’re friends.” She told them as she stood up. “But, I would kick your ass if you hurt Wanda in any way shape or form.”

“You wouldn’t need to.” They told her, watching as she raised a brow. “I would kick my own ass if I ever did something to hurt her, no matter how small it is.” Nat smiled before she headed towards the door.

“Good.” She smiled before opening the door. “I shall see you at the briefing for our mission.” With that she left the room, Y/N remained in their spot, thinking about what Nat had just told them before deciding to get up to find Wanda. Searching her room and everywhere else they could think of before they entered the kitchen, watching as Wanda cooked as Vision helped her, Wanda laughing as Vision spoke to her, their chest tightening at the scene that played before them before deciding to head back to their room. Not realising that Wanda knew they were there, a sad look in her eye at the doorway of the kitchen before she continued her conversation with Vision.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Vision questioned as he observed her change in mood.

“Oh, yeah.” Wanda over compensated as she continued to cook.

“I am not entirely an expert on human emotions, but I can see that you are clearly troubled by something.” He told her. “You have actually been like this since Y/N had arrived here.”

“It’s nothing.” She tried to wave him off.

“Wanda, I like to think that you and I are somewhat friends.” He spoke as he watched her actions. “And not just because of the connection with the mind stone, so I just want you to know that if ever you need to talk about anything, I am always here for you.”

“Thank you Vis.” Wanda spoke quietly, keeping her eye on the task at hand as the next few moments were filled with silence before she spoke again. “I just want to know why they wouldn’t want me to accompany them on their last job on this list, they told me it’s a dangerous one and that they need a team.” She slammed the wooden spoon down as she continued. “I have my powers, I am in control and I will help more so than any of the trained SHIELD agents Fury will assign.”

“Maybe they’re just thinking about your safety.” He reasoned with her. “I understand that they have always wanted to keep you safe, as from the stories you have told me.”

“But I need to think about their safety too.” Wanda told him. “I can’t go through losing them, not again, I’m not strong enough.”

“You are stronger than you think Wanda.” Vision told her before the two carried on with their task.

As the days went on leading up to the mission, Y/N had tried their hardest to avoid both Wanda and Vision, after witnessing their interaction in the kitchen as they both cooked, but as they were getting their gear all set, secretly hoping for Wanda to come to see them off, but she had had the same idea as them.

“All set?” Nat questioned as they approached the car, getting in the passenger seat without another word.

“So, does everyone understand what the plan is?” Y/N asked her, ignoring her observing glance.

“They do, no one comes out alive.” She informed them, watching from the corner of her eye as they nodded. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked them as she drove towards their destination.

“Yeah.” They told her bluntly.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it seems like you have your knickers stuck up your ass right now.” She told them, making them look over at her.

“I am sure.” They told her. “And for the record, I wear boxers. Knickers would strangle my bollocks.”

“I didn’t want to know that!” She exclaimed with disgust on her face, making Y/N chuckle as they approached the rendezvous point for their mission. Seeing the team of agents who were assigned along with Maria and Clint who were both ready to complete the mission. “But, we’ll get this bastard.” She told them as they got themselves ready, placing their mask over their head before exiting the car with her, weapons in arms as they approached the others. Maria was going over the plan once more, making sure that everyone knew their positions and the goal of this mission before they all made their way to infiltrate the fortress. Clint being their eyes from high above, alerting them all on comms of when they had come across an enemy, ready to take them down.

Both Y/N and Nat were making their way swiftly through the halls, shooting anyone who was a threat to either of them, heading straight towards Theodore’s room. Y/N had one goal in mind and that was to completely disable any chance of Hydra being reborn. As the air was filled with the sound of gunshots and yelling, both Nat and Y/N had approached the door to Theodore’s room, Y/N had signaled for Nat to breach the door, throwing in a flashbang before Y/N had entered the room, shooting anyone who was armed in the process before their eyes found Theodore, who had a gun raised at them.

“What do you want from me?” He questioned as he had aimed his weapon at Y/N’s head.

“This.” Y/N answered bluntly before pulling the trigger, watching as he dropped to the ground as Nat followed behind them.

“Looks like you didn’t need to buddied-up after all.” She smirked as they turned to face her. “You practically cleared this room on your own.”

“I like to be efficient.” They told her as they moved to exit the room, looking behind her as they watched one of Theodore’s men enter the hall, their gun raised as Y/N moved to push Nat to the side before shooting him themselves.

“What was.” Nat started before she turned to watch as Y/N fell to their knees, holding onto their stomach before she moved to them. “We need a medevac now! Theodore’s room, Y/N’s been shot.” She spoke through her comms as she soon put pressure on their wound. “Be careful, they’re using diamond tipped bullets!” She told them as she tried to keep pressure on their wound. “You’re going to be okay.” She tried to reassure them, listening as the gunfire was starting to die down.

“Nat!” Maria yelled as she ran through the hall towards them.

“It’s bad.” Nat told her, watching as Y/N was slipping out of consciousness. “Really bad.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Maria told her. “We have a chopper ETA 5.”

“But.” Nat tried again as Maria shook her head.

“Trust me, they have survived worse than this.” She reassured her. “We’re going to get them to Dr Cho and you know yourself she is the best.” Nat nodded as she kept pressure on the wound.

“Y/N?” She called out as she noticed their eyes closing. “Y/N?” As she kept calling their name, more agents and medics had arrived, Maria moving her to allow them to do their work as they lifted Y/N onto the gurney.

“Come on.” Maria pulled Nat with her, heading straight towards their car and heading straight towards SHIELD HQ. “Since when do you care about them?” Maria questioned as she drove, Nat’s eyes remained on her hands which were covered in Y/N’s blood.

“I uh, we’re friends.” Nat told her honestly, diverting her gaze towards the road ahead as Maria sped through traffic. “But they saved me.”

“What?” Maria questioned.

“They uh, they pushed me out of the way.” She mumbled, her eyes going back to her hands. “I wasn’t paying attention behind me, and Clint never warned us of any other assailants. He should have informed us, he was informing the rest of you. I heard him on comms.”

“What?” Maria questioned, her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. “He had the drone monitor. Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Nat thought for a moment.

“He wouldn’t have been able to tell who was me or Y/N on the monitor.” Nat responded thoughtfully. “Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Maria shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I will find out when we get back to HQ.” She answered firmly, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Oh goodness I am so excited to finally being able to read part two!

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.  Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?” Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.  “Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

And oh my word the two lines from Dean when she got mad KILLED ME. The:

"What's this, some kind of Latina temper?" he asks snidely.

AND

"Oh, I'm sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?" he snarks.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.  He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room. So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.  He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

Oh sweetie pie, Dean you're an idiot, but we love our little idiot even when he loses his temper because he cares so much. This part really got to me, because at first I was like "oh why would she stay with him in his room," but I get it. Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships.

Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.  Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.  And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.  “You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.  “Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless.

And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss. He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.   A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.  “I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

ESPECIALLY THIS LINE:

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

I don't know why that wiped me out after everything tbh.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[thenationofzaun]

Thoughts on Act 1 of Arcane Season 2

The positives:

- The animation is fucking incredible.

- Jinx and Sevika teaming up watered my crops and cleansed my skin.

- Underwater goodbye with Jinx and Silco. That scene was made specifically for me.

- Jinx's voice actress continues to be excellent.

- Loved the designs of all the Chembarons. The glimpse we got of the gang wars was also interesting. Unfortunately, too tiny a glimpse. Which brings me to...

The negatives:

- Too many plotlines. They stuffed the season with too much shit which is why each individual plot gets a much shorter screentime than it should. Smeech is introduced and killed in the same episode. Chembarons' gang wars, a huge issue which has repercussions on the entire Undercity, gets only one musical montage before moving on. And this is coming from someone who loved that montage, as well as the song. My favourite on the soundtrack so far. But musical montages shouldn't come at the expense of the story and definitely shouldn't replace the story. There are just way too many music video scenes in general that feel like a way to condense a storyline into the sparknotes version because they don't have the screentime to flesh it out. And they would have the screentime if they cut out all the extra stuffing. Look I'm happy for the League fans who are excited for the Black Rose and all that, but what the hell is it doing in a Piltover/Zaun show. And with zero foreshadowing in Season 1 too. It would definitely be easier to swallow if they had at least hinted at it in the first season. They could have kept Ambessa's beef with this magic cult for a Noxus show. The P/Z narrative has enough to deal with, enough characters to handle already.

- The new side characters are uninteresting and generic. Maddie and the two other enforcers (we don't even know their names after three episodes LMAO) are bland. We know nothing about their characters or personalities. Maddie looks like a rookie, and one of the dudes is an alcoholic, yet they get chosen for an elite strikeforce to capture Jinx? Isha is pretty generic too - the token cute kid that needs protecting. I get the role she will play in Jinx's arc. But that's the problem - she should be a character in her own right, not just a vehicle for someone else's character development. A good example is Mylo. He died for Jinx's arc, but when he was alive he was a distinct character with his own personality. We had a sense of his insecurities, his goals, who he was as a person. Name a single personality trait of Isha and Maddie other than "generically nice person". That's right. You can't.

- Whatever the hell is going on with Viktor. He wakes up from his coma and immediately rejects Jayce so quickly that it was funny. Apparently disapproves of Jayce using the Hexcore to save his life, but then immediately goes to use the Hexcore to save random Undercity people. Bruh. I also don't really like the way the fridged woman from last season seems to be his motivation so far. Nor the way he seems to have no agency in his Machine Herald arc. Instead of Viktor himself believing in transhumanism and mechanizing himself, Jayce does it for him. Instead of Viktor having an ideological drive and wanting a "Glorious Evolution", he is driven by guilt over Sky. Meh. Also he's not even mechanized, instead he's weirdly fleshy?? In a magical way?? More like The Magic Herald :(

- Vi. Her whole character is a mess. Insanely rushed arc which I find unacceptable for one of THE main characters and one of the faces of the show. She and Jinx are supposed to be the leads, their relationship the heart of the story, but so far only Jinx is a well-written fleshed out chaacter with a believable arc. I have too much to say about Vi so I'll expand more on this on another post.

- So much nuance and detail is missing. How does Heimerdinger feel about his ex-colleagues being killed? Does he care? Does he feel guilt? Relieved that he wasn't in the chamber when the bombing happened? No clue! Let's have comedy Mission Impossible instead! How does Ekko feel about the Council attack? Does he approve of it? Think Jinx went too far? How does he feel that she even survived their fight to begin with? No clue! Here, have him joking around with a Councilor for a bit (someone whom Ekko logically should despise), then he can talk Science with Jayce and all three get sent to another dimension together. Yay. What does Vi think happened to Ekko? The last time she saw him, he was fighting Jinx to the death to give Vi and Cait time to escape. He could be dead for all she knows and she doesn't give a fuck. Doesn't even think about him nor mention him once. It's like the writers forgot they're childhood friends. What does the entirety of Zaun make of Silco's death? I assume they heard about it from Piltover (who heard about it from Caitlyn), but how do they think it happened? His body is gone and to Zaun it seems he just mysteriously disappeared. Are there conspiracy theories? Conflicting accounts and rumours? So much nuance that would give the world and characters more depth, sacrificed so we can pack in more rushed subplots and music videos.

- Caitlyn "Wifebeater" Kiramman. And Caitvi in general. So far Caitlyn has guilt-tripped Vi, manipulated her into joining the enforcers, insulted her and then physically abused her. After Vi sacrificed everything for Cait, wore a badge she hates for Cait, even let Cait kill her own fucking sister (and only intervened when the random kid got involved). Why should I give a shit about such a one-sided relationship lmao. "B-but Cait's mom is dead so she's sad about it", every other fucking character in this show has dead parents. Half the cast has faced unfathomable amounts of trauma and pain that make Cait's pale in comparison. Nothing justifies her hitting Vi. "B-b-but it's a parallel to when Vi hit Powder", a shit parallel then. Because the circumstances are not even remotely comparable. "God forbid lesbians do anything🤪", give me a break with this corny bullshit. Be serious for a second. I'm not even a Vi fan and I think she deserves better than this mess of a relationship. The power dynamic between them makes it worse. The way Caitlyn is one of the richest people in the city and Vi is broke. The way Caitlyn is highly educated and Vi never went to school and spent her entire teen years locked in a box. Did the writers think about all this when writing their relationship? Keep in mind, Vi met Caitlyn like a week ago. She barely knows this chick. She's been out of prison FOR A WEEK. Where she was physically abused every fucking day. Putting her in a relationship with a cop who hits her would certainly be a choice! Do I have faith this show will handle it with care? Not really, no. They already ignore Vi's prison trauma. Most likely they will make Vi forgive Cait way too easily because "muh mummy muh grief".

[senmiyaazx]

WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HAD JUST PLAYED THE NEW UPDATE AND THE BAD ENDING KILLED ME. I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH MY COMPUTER BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE 😭 I'LL NEVER LOOK AT AXES AND CROWE THE SAME EVER AGAIN

sorry for being overdramatic that ending really hurt me and i love crowe 😢

can you write crowe and reader's date after they got together in day 1? let's say Sol didn't find out when crowe and reader kissed so crowe gets to live (not for long tho)

i just wanted a peaceful love life with Jericho Ichabod 😭

CROWE X GN READER

spoilers for the update (bad ending)

a/n: an au where mc remembers all the saves they've done and knowing that they'll never be able to reciprocate crowe's feelings without putting him in danger would make pretty good angst ngl.

cw: slight angst (I'm sorry I couldn't help it). overall very fluffy. i think. reader is lowkey a simp.

bonus fanart at the end!

---------

He's so pretty it hurts. Pretty like the way his braided hair fell gracefully on his shoulders. Pretty like the ethereal glow that kissed his tan skin in the afternoon sun. Pretty, like his sapphire irises that gazed at you with such fondness that it made your heart ache.

Fuck. He's so beautiful and you're sure he's aware of it.

"(Name)? Are you okay?" He asks as if you'll ever be okay when he looks at you like that.

After that night— that one special night that might as well be one of your core memories. It was your first kiss. With Crowe. The guy you thought would never reciprocate your feelings. The man who liked you longer than you did.

Crowe.

And now, it's just you two in your comfort spot. The school garden. After that night he invited you here. For what? A date? Gee, is he trying to kill you or something?

It was already difficult enough to face him after.. well, the kiss. Now he decided to invite you to somewhere private. Just the two of you. Crowe and I.

It's weird thinking like that. It feels weird to put your name beside Crowe, even if you've discreetly written your name next to him with a heart multiple times on your notebook.

And yet you still called yourself a mere 'admirer'. How naive could you get?

Ah, well, it doesn't matter now. You sat next to him on the ground with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, and you're stiffer than a damn wall.

Don't look at me like that. You think. Don't you dare give me that look. That concerned, caring face he always gave you when you're feeling incredibly warm and your heart is seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. Can you stop being so handsome?

"(Name)," Crowe repeats, bringing you back to reality. "Are you okay?"

You take a deep breath. Maybe you're being too dramatic, acting like a teenage girl with her first crush. Or maybe Crowe just has that effect on you. Can you really blame yourself? He's like a prince for fuck's sake. "Yeah. Don't worry."

His brows furrowed, unconvinced. "Loosen up a little, won't you? You act like we're strangers." His tone takes on a more playful one, hoping to lighten the mood. "We've known each other for a year.. yet you're still so nervous around me." He grinned. His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair away from your face, the warmth from his touch lingering. What a tease.

"Not my fault you're so handsome.." You crossed your arms with a huff. "Seriously. If being pretty was illegal you'd be a criminal." You weren't even aware of what you're saying at this point. You've gotten so comfortable with Crowe that you simply didn't care what you say in front of him.

He blinks, staring at you as you continued to mumble under your breath. Cute. He thinks. You're way too cute sometimes.

He leaned in closer, a teasing grin on his face. "You think I'm that pretty?"

You stop mumbling, turning to face him only to be jumpscared because of how close he was. "What the- Of course I do!" You lean away from him, cheeks warm. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who thinks that way. Aren't you aware of the letters you received on Valentine's day?"

He smiled at this, backing away to give you space. "Of course I was." He paused, studying your figure with a warm gaze. "But you know I only had eyes for you on that day."

Your chest tingled, remembering the chocolate you gifted to him. You didn't expect he'd have a gift of his own for you too. Back then, you always thought he'd forget about you one day.

He never did.

"Corny." Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips, contrasting your words. He let out a chuckle at that to which you responded with a light punch to his shoulder.

A long silence settled comfortably between you two for a while. Simply basking in each other's presence, taking in the peaceful scenery with him. Despite the silence, it was enough for you. Being with him was enough.

And you couldn't help but voice it out loud. "I'm so glad to be with you."

He's caught off guard by that, but quickly regains his composure as he intertwined your fingers together with the softest smile you've ever seen.

"Me too."

Heavens, you love him. So damn much.

So please let this moment last forever.

---------

bonus cuz i love Crowe so much

not the best art I've done but i really wanted to do this to give myself motivation to write:) and also i wanted an excuse to draw him even though i already have a w.i.p of him lol

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Masterlist: Here

CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.

A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨

“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.

“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”

“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”

“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Then what exactly did you do?”

“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”

“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”

“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.

“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.

“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.

“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.

“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.

“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.

Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.

He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.

He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”

“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”

“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.

“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.

“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”

“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.

“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.

“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.

“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.

“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.

“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.

“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.

“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.

“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.

“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.

“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.

“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.

“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.

“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.

In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.

[aerospectrum]

“I think Cas is already happy with you; I know you make him happy. but what about you, are you happy?” Chuck asked. “I think she ignored him a lot and he withdrew into himself. When I asked if he was happy with her he insisted he was.” Chuck explained without sharing too much, not entirely positive what Cas had told her and not wanting to cause uncomfortable conversations later.

“I think he wants to know he can keep you safe from things he can’t control but he means well… I didn’t see that with Kristen. He was always quiet and waited for the ok from her.” He looked at Madison then pulled a seat at the small kitchen table out for her to sit. “when you say she treated him poorly.” Chuck answered, thinking Castiel had told him the extent. “Is there more I should’ve known about?”

Cas wondered what Lucifer would have to say once they were alone. Halfway off the porch steps Lucifer paused and looked at kris; Cas went down fast on one knee. “what the fuck was that for!?” He groaned out, doubled over himself, dropping one hand to balance himself on the pavement. It took him a second to recover from the way his lungs constricted and his stomach imploded on itself. He didn’t want to lean up and drop his other hand- he didn’t even want to attempt to stand just yet. Fuck.

“It’s pathetic really. How everyone else doesn’t see it- the whole picture, the real you.” He seemed enraged, but so eerily calm. He yanked Cas’ other arm away and with a second kick to the groin Kris decided she was satisfied which meant Lucifer was too.

Lucifer and Kris both returned to the kitchen in half the time Lucifer had given her and obviously without Castiel-- left out to sit on the front steps. Or so they thought. Their expressions were cheery and vibrant… content. Until Kristen set her eyes on Madison and lost it. She pulled her arm back and like a slingshot— the loud smack of skin on skin reverberated in the room and she raised her other hand to wind up and smack Madison again; the air whistling sharp with speed.

“Next time maybe you won’t be such a who-!” Her words were immediately silenced, a look of wide eyed anger and confusion then shock when she realized Cas was grabbing her arm so tight she thought he might snap the bone in two. “Get your fucking hands off me you— you…” her words floundered and her face burned red— surprisingly no flames engulfed her yet.

“if you ever touch her again. I’ll kill you.” Cas threatened. His voice was too calm, his grip unrelenting even as she yanked and tugged- hissing and spitting like a cat with its paw stuck in a trap. His eyes were focused on her, then to Chuck who was telling him to let go, to let go he’d get Kristen out of there just let go. His eyes raced from Chuck to Madison, to Kristen to Lucifer back to Chuck, back to Madison. But he couldn’t let go— he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let her hurt Madison again. He couldn’t. He didn’t protect Madison like he was supposed to..

Kristen had gotten to her before he could get back inside and the ferocity of his rage wouldn’t let him see clearly. His grip tightened and Kristen yelped in pain. His blue eyes dulled, washed out by a memory of a body on the kitchen floor, a gun in his hands… his brothers with hands over their ears staring at him. Chuck was still pleading for Cas to let her go while Gabe was trying to hold off Lucifer. Balthazar stood there unsure what to do; strike up the worlds most awkward conversation with Madison or just watch it all go down in flames?

Finally Cas let her wrist go and she laid down a barrage of close fisted hits against him; but it was like he didn’t feel a single one. His eyes stayed locked on Madison and he wasn’t sure when it happened but Lucifer was wringing out a cool towel and bringing it back to Madison for her face. Kristen was nowhere to be found— they were in the living room, sitting on couches- everyone was talking even the tv was on, Chuck was pacing, kneeling in front of Madison to ask her how she was and what she needed or what she wanted him to do, did she want the police or want to go to a doctor, maybe he was overboard but he didn’t expect his house to become a zoo— and Cas couldn’t hear a thing.

Madison could only purse her lips in guilt & avert her eyes. Even though she was guilty, her index hooked onto cas’ in a comforting way. Madison gave him a little side eye & a wink.

“It’s really up to cas. I don’t mind staying, but I know he’s working on a few projects. I don’t know how late he wants to be out.” She gave his hand a squeeze to comfort him. If he needed her to lie for him, she would. All he had to do was say the word.

There was a pause before Madison smiled, “oh I’d love to come over & spend some time w/ you. I could talk about work all day, you’d have to pay me to shut up.” A small laugh left her & she leaned her head on cas’ shoulder.

Lucifer asked to take her cas away & Madison defensively clutched him. She didn’t want cas going anywhere w/ them. Certainly not near Kris. But he reluctantly left the room leaving Madison to Gabriel & chuck. “So… be honest. I can take it… did you guys ever like Kris for cas? Do you think…. He can be happy w/ me?”

She peeked over her shoulder making sure no one was near. “Did anyone know how bad she treated him?”

[ninyard]

no but really. riko's "lessons" on grief crumbling the second kevin finds out about riko's death though!!!! all of that suppression, all of the buried feelings, all of the time spent avoiding and hiding and concealing left to rise to the surface the second riko is dead!!!

i am convinced kevin freaks out in a way he's never freaked out before, in a way that sincerely shocks anyone who witnesses it, once he finds out riko is gone. in a way that subtly begs the question about inpatient care and an extended leave of absence and rehab. in a way that nobody else really understands because it was riko of all people to trigger this meltdown, but in a way that is genuinely terrifying

that codependency, even if undercut by relief that the abuse is over, does not go away without a freak out!!

-childhood in the nest anon

oh that's such a good point. Especially if Riko was successful in not letting Kevin mourn, if Kevin never really grieved his mother because Riko said, "You have me."

Like, what if the whole basis of Kevin's avoidance of grieving his mom was based on Riko saying, "So long as I'm here, you don't have to worry about her." Imagine every time he almost cried, every time he almost said I miss my mom out loud, Riko would grip his arm or his hand or his face and say something to the effect of, "Your grief is a waste of time and the only thing that matters is me, is us, is exy."

And then Riko's dead? And oh, he remembers this feeling that he'd only felt in vague bursts before, buried so deep he couldn't even be sure he felt it at all. The words, "Riko is dead," sound like "Your mom is dead". They found her body this morning. They found his body last night. There's nothing they could've done to save her. He was dead when the ambulance arrived.

It's like this doubled grief, all the things he'd never been allowed to feel for his mom suddenly coming back up, and like, these are feelings that Kevin thought he was too young to have felt. He thought he was too young to remember, he thought he was too young to understand but now he's reminded that, no, you felt it. You understood. You just weren't allowed to feel the monumental loss that you'd faced. You weren't allowed to work through this gnawing icy pain in your heart. And now that Riko's dead, you're allowed. You're free.

But now Riko's dead. Now Riko is dead, and his mom is dead, and fuck Riko for making him feel both of their deaths at the same time because he shouldn't exist in the same world that his mother does. The pain he feels for them both should be incomparable.

I like to imagine that for just a few moments after Kevin is told, he goes into shock, completely and utterly unable to function with the knowledge that Riko is dead.

"Riko killed himself last night," David says, and Abby is by his side for backup, for protection, for Kevin's safety. Betsy is on speed dial. "They won't tell me much, but they think it happened fast."

Maybe Abby nudges him because nothing he says will be okay, or good enough, or soft enough so as to not destroy Kevin. And he hears the words. He knew they were coming. They had to come, this was always going to happen. This was always how it was going to end. But his brain goes quiet and his hands go numb and he smiles a weak smile. He doesn't feel those words at all.

"Okay," He nods, like he's just been told that it's raining outside or he's wearing odd socks. "Thank you, Coach."

"Kevin, did you..." Abby's voice is soft as she reaches out. "Did you hear what David said?"

His eyes are empty, someplace far away, but his voice does not shake as he says, "I did."

For a while, maybe, they don't let him leave the room. He's quiet, disassociating, but not yet crying. Not yet throwing things around the room like David expected. Not yet begging for a bottle of vodka.

Does Renee come to the door first, or Neil? Does Abby answer the door because David asked her to, and what snaps him out of it? Is it Renee saying, "I called Jean. I told him to avoid the news," or is it Neil saying, "Have you told him yet?" that snaps him back into the real world, back to reality, to Jean can't find out, to Jean is alone, to Neil knows, to oh my god to this is real to Riko's dead and Riko's dead and Riko's dead.

Everything is familiar and nothing is the same. His body tells him he’s allowed to mourn his mom now, but he can’t handle it, and he can’t handle Riko being dead and Jean not knowing and Riko being dead and his mom isn’t here and he just. can’t. get his head around it. It’s all of a sudden messy and loud and confusing. He can’t let himself think about how Riko probably didn’t kill himself, he can’t ask himself why Neil knew before he did. He can’t believe it. If he believes it then it’s real and it’s his fault and who has him now? That was Riko’s job. To stop him from mourning so he could keep his eye on the prize and now he has it; They won the season. He put all his focus on exy, and look where it got him. All those lessons, all that burying of his feelings and compartmentalising to deal with it later hits him at once like a fucking truck and I think Kevin had the breakdowns of all breakdowns that day.

I think whatever happened to Jean on his own in that dorm room would’ve happened to Kevin, and more. He’s lucky that he wasn’t alone, I suppose, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. He’s tall, and he’s strong, and his head isn’t in the room when he’s throwing shit at the walls and screaming like it’ll help make things make sense. He doesn’t see where the chair lands. He doesn’t see who the books are thrown at. There is a chance that not one person in that room has ever seen anyone lose their mind so quickly, and intensely before. Because it’s not just Riko, it’s his mom, it’s his childhood, it’s his future, it’s his abuser, it’s his brother, it’s his identity and purpose and fuck, it’s Riko. Who is he without Riko?

If I keep going this will just end up far too long but oh lordy lord I think you’re absolutely right

[verdantwyrm]

On that topic though, I would like to touch more on the subject of Jimmy being also a victim to himself. I fear this might anger a lot of people, but Jimmy is an almost exact perfect example of someone with BPD (As someone with it myself) and how his spiralling is directly tied to Curly.

The game never once insinuates that Jimmy is like this because he's mentally ill, the line of him having it "hard" back on earth doesn't mean anything either, but it also means a lot coming from Curly. Curly is a representative of a Favorite person, and everything Jimmy did in the game, who he hurt, how he did it and the language he used, is very close to how real-life people with BPD sometimes treat their own FPs and the people around them.

They become erratic, jealous, driven by fear, apologetic, desperate and cling to everything and everything. Jimmy insults Curly, twists his words and makes him out the be the villain, he drives everyone away from him at the birthday party and spends months feeding lies to the others that Curly is the one that crashed the ship despite this lie not actually really benefitting Jimmy all that much in the long run.

Jimmy wanted to kill everyone on the ship, he could have lied and instead said that it was simply a fault of the ship, a miscalculation, an accident. Instead, he took every opportunity to make Curly out to be the one who ultimately decided that this was the best way to go about it, and then also blamed it on Curly's mental health dropping after being fired.

This is all extremely elaborate, and a very difficult lie to keep up with, as almost everyone on that ship has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise that Curly didn't crash the ship. What with Anya's psych eval of him being "the same as usual" and being sane enough to continue doing his job. Anya also trusted Curly enough to tell him about the pregnancy, and to also tell him about the gun. And even though it's not very well expressed in the game (possibly intentional since we are seeing through Jimmy's eyes.) She does trust Curly, and she probably continued to trust him even when all was wrong around her.

And Daisuke also has no real reason to distrust Curly, we don't know much about their relationship, but there was definitely a sense of trust and reliability between the both of them. This is also evident through Swansea and Curly, where Curly trusts him enough to hold onto the axe, despite being told to return it to the case as everything has to constantly run through him. He was taking risks, he was terrified of being abandoned, left behind in Curly's shadow. He was having fits of rage, outbursts of suicidal thoughts and harm to himself and to those around him.

Jimmy twisted and kept twisting that knife in an attempt to turn away everyone from Curly even when he was at his lowest to isolate and to make him cling to the only thing he had left; Jimmy.

This adds even more to Curly's eventual condition, being completely reliant on Jimmy, being completely subject to his will and power. And something that he even admitted to liking, he likes power. And he likes that the circumstances given, might not have turned out the best way, it gave Jimmy that power over Curly. Something he had been climbing for a long time, and something he so desperately wanted because he was sick and tired of hearing just how fantastic he was at something Jimmy wasn't.

And yet, despite all of this, Jimmy praised Curly. He hated how much he adored him, hated how much he idolised him. And even at the end of it all, his main focus was just Curly, making him out to be the hero of the story despite spending such a long time attempting to make him out to be the villain.

And then even further to make the situation out to be that he was also the hero of the story, that all of his actions were justified to some degree because it was all for Curly. He fixed it, he fixed everything for Curly. Because despite what he did to Anya, Swanse and Daisuke, his only real concern behind all of it was Curly.

Every hallucination leads to him, every goal, every path. He was so concerned with him, that even when it was directly in his face, the only apology he ever muttered was to Curly. Using Anya's words.

Our worst moments don't make us monsters.

Jimmy is a victim of only himself and the consequences of his own actions, and he is by far one of the better, unintentional examples of BPD.

[wszczebrzyszynie]

i know this has more than a year but i really can't find it in your blog, did you ever talk about the endings in your horror rpg maker hc au?

well i thought i did and then it turns out i didnt? and then it turns out neither me or @makowcy (co creator of all my aus ever) kept any text about it whatsoever because we discussed it all live durning the last days of school which was also a heatwave. and now we dont remember. so here is what we think we meant? at least things we managed to piece together on a 1.5 hour phone call. well have some never released mycelium RPG au art as well somewhere under the cut. first one made by aku. geniuely what made you remember that its been over a year now and there were only two loose idea posts about it. well do whatever you want with this

there were probably 5 endings, each corresponding to one of the characters (except for jimmy who dies early on and is a wake up call of sorts for grian)

pearl ending (bad ending) - pearl kills grian (player character) in the bossfight, wins and destroys the earth in her attempt to eradicate mycelium the martyn ending (neutral ending) - grian beats pearl (doesnt kill her) and becomes the personification of infection/mycelium (he is always the one to deal the final blow, as that is what ascends him to godhood. martyn knows this, hes using him as a sacrificial lamb); he becomes mother spore and gets backstabbed by martyn, who then kills him permamently using the special item we simply called "the weapon", which saves the earth from the mycelium apocalypse

big b ending (attainable through high relationship points with him) - martyn dies (somehow), grian doesnt become mother spore and instead gets mercy killed by him before the infection finishes him off. there is no pearl fight. he sets off to manually purify the earth as that is the power he has as what we called "pearls paladin" for simplicity

mother spore ending (attainable through high relationship points with martyn) - plays off normally, except martyn hesitates before killing grian (now mother spore), ending in his failure and death. mother spore is the last one left and infection thrives

scar ending (attainable through high relationship points with him): well this one is tricky as scar is a 4th wall breaking character. he knows whats going on at all times and that it is a game. to get it you need to get high relationship points with him, but also play the game at least once - otherwise things get awkward as he "doesnt really know you (grian and/or the player)". The choices required to gather the points go against every other character, and the correct answers to his dialogue options would be hidden in the game files somewhere; in general scar would have a "notebook" in the game files talking about different things. his relationship points dont reset with every savefile reset. once all requirements are met he can be invited into the party, but he declines and instead gives grian "the weapon", which he uses to permamently kill pearl, which also ends the world for everyone except grian and scar. i remember that scar considers it the good ending, because it takes a lot of preparation and therefore its an active choice grian/you make to make it happen, so its just... exactly what grian/you wanted