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I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.
The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.
Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.
I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.
You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.
Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.
You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.
And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.
And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.
Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.
Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.
That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.
Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.
But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.
If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.
When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.
Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?
How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?
Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.
There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.
I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?
Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.
Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.
And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.
To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?
Thanks for reading.
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I love your headcannons so I gotta put an ask in here. As we all know, MC can act a bit childish and is quick to push touch/affection away.
It makes me think of the quote, "If you touch me without violence, you'll be the first". Would love a writing about it.
Aw thank you! I hope this is what you meant <3
Caleb
The first time Caleb touched you, you flinched.
It was barely anything—a fleeting brush of his fingers against yours as he handed you something, an innocent, meaningless gesture—but your entire body stiffened, your breath hitched, and before you even realized it, you had yanked your hand back.
The warmth of his skin lingered, and you hated it.
Caleb noticed. Of course, he did. His sharp violet eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t say anything. Not then.
But he never stopped touching you.
Not in a way that was forceful or overwhelming. Never in a way that felt like he was trying to push you past your boundaries. But it was there—the careful way his shoulder would bump into yours when you walked side by side, the way he’d place his hand on your lower back as he guided you through a crowd, the way his fingers would brush against your wrist when he passed you something.
Each time, your reaction was the same. A flinch. A step back. A refusal.
At first, he gave you space. He didn’t push, didn’t question. Caleb wasn’t the type to force someone into anything they weren’t ready for. But he wasn’t blind either. He saw the way your guard never dropped, the way your muscles tensed at even the gentlest touch.
And then, one night, he finally asked.
You were both standing outside, the city lights stretching far into the distance, stars barely visible beyond the haze. It was quiet between you, peaceful, until he broke it with a simple question.
“Why do you hate being touched?”
You froze.
Your fingers curled into fists, your heart hammering against your ribs. You wanted to ignore him, wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard, but Caleb wasn’t the kind of person who let things slide.
When you didn’t answer, he turned to face you fully, his voice steady but softer than usual. “It’s not just me, is it?” His eyes searched yours. “You don’t let anyone touch you.”
You swallowed hard.
And then you said it. The words that had been sitting on your tongue for years, unspoken, buried beneath layers of defense and survival.
“If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”
The weight of those words crushed the space between you.
Caleb didn’t react right away. He didn’t wince, didn’t gasp, didn’t give you that pitying look you dreaded seeing. Instead, he just stood there, his violet gaze locked onto yours, taking in everything you weren’t saying.
You braced yourself for rejection, for discomfort, for him to leave—but he didn’t.
Instead, after a long pause, he let out a slow breath and said, “…Then I guess I’ll have to be first.”
Your stomach twisted. “Caleb—”
“I won’t push you.” His voice was firm but patient. “I won’t touch you until you let me.”
That should’ve been the end of it. It should’ve been the part where you turned away and let him go, where he accepted your boundaries and never tried again.
But the problem was Caleb never stopped caring about you.
And worse? You had let yourself care about him too.
Caleb never tried to force his way into your space, never laid a hand on you without permission. But he stayed.
He stayed through the silence, through the bad days, through the moments when you wanted to push everyone away but couldn’t bring yourself to do it with him.
He made himself a constant.
And that was dangerous.
Because the longer he stayed, the more you caught yourself wanting to reach for him.
The more you caught yourself watching his hands—the same hands that had held weapons, that had taken lives, that had commanded entire fleets—and wondering how they would feel if they touched you gently.
The more you caught yourself leaning in just a little when he stood beside you, like some part of you was trying to unlearn a lifetime of flinching.
You weren’t used to it.
You weren’t used to someone treating you like you were something precious instead of something hardened. You weren’t used to someone looking at you like you were worth waiting for.
And it scared you.
Because if you let yourself have this, if you let him in—what then?
It happened one night when you weren’t thinking.
You had both been caught in a battle, pushed to your limits, and despite everything—despite all the odds—you had both made it out alive.
Caleb was covered in cuts and bruises, exhaustion heavy in his limbs, but the moment he saw you stumble, he reached for you instinctively—just like he always did.
And this time, for the first time, you didn’t pull away.
His hands found your arms, steadying you, grounding you. You felt his warmth, his strength—and you let him hold you.
It was so small. So insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Just his hands on your arms, steady and reassuring. But to you, it felt like something shattered.
Caleb stilled, his grip light, as if he half-expected you to come to your senses and shove him away. His eyes searched yours, cautious, waiting.
But you didn’t move.
For the first time, you let yourself be touched without bracing for pain.
Without expecting violence.
Without fear.
And the look Caleb gave you in that moment—soft, careful, like he knew exactly how much this meant even if you hadn’t said a word—was enough to make something inside you break.
You swallowed hard, pulse racing.
“You’re the first.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, barely a whisper, but Caleb heard them.
He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing the edge of your sleeve in the gentlest motion imaginable.
“Then I’ll make sure I’m never the last.”
And you believed him.
For the first time in your life, you actually believed someone.
Because Caleb had never broken a promise to you before.
And deep down, you knew he never would.
Rafayel
Rafayel had always been affectionate—too affectionate, if you were being honest. It wasn’t just the teasing smirks or the casual way he draped himself over you like a cat seeking warmth. It was the way his hands would linger, the way his gaze softened when he looked at you, the way he spoke your name like it was something precious.
But you weren’t used to it.
So, when he leaned in too close, when his fingers brushed against yours absentmindedly, when his warmth wrapped around you in unspoken promises of safety, you pushed him away. Not roughly, not cruelly, but firm enough to make the message clear.
He didn’t take offense, at least not outwardly. Rafayel always bounced back with a lopsided grin, a lazy roll of his shoulders, as if to say, Fine, I’ll wait. But there was something in his eyes—something quieter, something more knowing.
And you hated that.
Because deep down, you knew what he saw.
He saw the way you flinched, even when his touch was gentle. He saw the way your shoulders tensed whenever he got too close, the way you shrank away from affection like it was a foreign language you never learned to speak.
Most people didn’t notice. Most people assumed you were just distant, that maybe you simply weren’t the affectionate type.
Rafayel knew better.
And that made him dangerous.
It started one evening, after one of his exhibitions. The gallery had emptied out, the patrons long gone, and yet he lingered, still basking in the afterglow of another successful night. You had stayed behind too, for reasons you weren’t entirely sure of. Maybe because he had asked. Maybe because it was easier than saying no to him.
He had pulled you into the back room where his latest painting was covered with a cloth. With a dramatic flourish, he yanked it away, revealing the canvas beneath.
It was you.
Not a perfect replica, not a stiff, lifeless portrait. It was you in motion, caught mid-laugh, the golden glow of light flickering behind you as if you were something divine.
It took your breath away.
You swallowed hard, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “You painted this?”
“No, it painted itself.” Rafayel smirked, stepping closer. “Of course I painted it.”
You didn’t have words. You didn’t know how to process something so raw, so intimate. It was one thing for someone to look at you, but it was another thing entirely for someone to see you. And Rafayel had always seen you.
That was the problem.
“I—” The words stuck to your throat. You weren’t good at this. At accepting things. At being loved without conditions, without expectations.
And then, just like always, Rafayel reached for you.
His fingers, long and paint-stained, brushed against your wrist—light, hesitant, careful. No force, no demand, just warmth.
And just like always, you flinched.
You stepped back so fast you almost knocked over the easel. “Don’t.” The word escaped before you could stop it, sharp and unsteady.
Rafayel’s hand froze midair before he slowly pulled it back. His expression didn’t falter, but there was something—something—in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying you with that same knowing look that had always unsettled you.
“Why?” His voice was soft. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just curious.
Your throat tightened. You wanted to tell him to drop it. You wanted him to go back to making jokes, to fill the silence with something light, something meaningless.
But he didn’t.
Because Rafayel never let things go.
You swallowed. “Because… if you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”
The words hung between you, heavy and raw.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Rafayel exhaled, slow and careful, as if he were afraid of shattering you. “Oh.”
He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t apologize, didn’t pity you. He just stood there, watching you with those piercing blue-pink eyes of his, like he was unraveling all the pieces of you you’d kept hidden for so long.
It made you want to run.
And maybe he saw that too, because he took a step back. Gave you space.
“Okay,” he said simply.
You blinked. “Okay?”
He nodded. “I won’t touch you. Not unless you want me to.”
The simplicity of it made something inside you ache.
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
For the first time in your life, someone didn’t demand. Someone didn’t take.
Someone just waited.
Days passed, and true to his word, Rafayel never touched you. He still leaned into your space, still gave you that infuriatingly charming grin, but his hands never reached for you again. Not once.
And you hated that you noticed.
You noticed the absence of his touch. You noticed the way his fingers twitched when he was excited, the way his hands curled into fists like he had to remind himself not to reach for you. You noticed how much you wanted him to.
It was terrifying.
It was exhilarating.
And one night, when he was sitting beside you, lazily sketching something while you both watched the waves crash against the shore, you made the first move.
It was small. Barely anything.
Just your pinky brushing against his.
But Rafayel noticed.
His breath hitched, and his gaze flickered to you, cautious, questioning.
You didn’t pull away.
Neither did he.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt electric, buzzing with something unspoken, something fragile.
Then Rafayel, ever patient, ever waiting, turned his hand palm-up beneath yours.
An invitation.
Not a demand.
You hesitated, your heart pounding, before slowly—so slowly—you let your fingers slip into his.
Warmth. Solid, steady warmth.
No violence.
No pain.
Just him.
Rafayel said nothing, didn’t make a big deal of it. He just held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he had been waiting lifetimes for it.
And maybe, just maybe, you had been waiting too.
Sylus
The first time Sylus touched you, you flinched.
It was subtle—just a stiffening of your shoulders, a flicker of tension in your stance. But for someone as dangerously observant as Sylus, it was enough. His fingers had barely brushed your wrist—light, almost teasing—as he leaned in to whisper something low in your ear.
And yet, you recoiled.
He didn’t comment on it then, only let a smirk curl at the corner of his lips as if he hadn’t noticed.
But he had.
Of course, he had.
Sylus never missed anything.
Sylus was nothing if not patient.
He had seen resistance before. He had encountered people who feared him, people who worshipped him, people who wanted something from him. But you?
You were different.
You didn’t fear him—you feared being touched.
And that… was fascinating.
So, he tested it.
Little things, at first. A hand at the small of your back as he guided you through a door. A knuckle brushing over your cheek under the excuse of tucking away a stray strand of hair. A moment where he let his fingers graze yours when he passed you something.
Every time, your body tensed—just slightly—but you didn’t pull away.
Not right away.
You always let it happen for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if waiting for something.
And that was when he knew.
You weren’t just unused to affection.
You were waiting for it to turn into something else.
Something harsher. Something cruel.
Something violent.
And that realization—that truth about you—made his blood burn with something he couldn’t quite name.
The night it finally broke, Sylus hadn’t meant to push too far.
It had been a long evening, tension thrumming beneath the surface between you both like an electric current. You had been irritatingly stubborn during negotiations, as always, challenging him, testing him, making him bite back a smirk as you stood your ground.
But the moment that lingered with him was after, when the night had settled and you had found yourself alone in his office.
He approached you like he always did—without hesitation.
This time, he touched your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion. It wasn’t just teasing.
It wasn’t just a test.
It was real.
And you panicked.
You slapped his hand away, hard. The sound cracked through the air, sharp and startling, but Sylus didn’t react. He barely blinked, only watching as you took a step back, breath uneven, eyes wild.
His fingers flexed once before he let them drop to his side.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, quietly—
"If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first."
It wasn’t said with anger. It wasn’t a warning or a threat.
It was just… the truth.
And Sylus, for once in his life, didn’t have a response.
Something Unspoken
After that, he changed tactics.
He didn’t stop touching you entirely—no, never that. But he let you decide.
He let you approach him.
He gave you space but stayed close enough that you could always reach him if you wanted to.
And, for a while, you didn’t.
But then—
One night, after an exhausting mission, you sat beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushed against his. You didn’t move away.
Another time, when exhaustion weighed on you, you let him take your wrist to check your pulse, your fingers trembling slightly—but not from fear.
And then, the night that changed everything—
You let him touch your face again.
This time, when his hand cradled your cheek, you leaned into it.
Not much. Just a fraction. Just enough that he could feel the shift.
Just enough for him to know.
And that was all the permission he needed.
Slowly, deliberately, his thumb traced the curve of your jaw, his voice low when he finally spoke:
"I would never hurt you."
Your breath hitched.
He felt it.
He didn’t ask why it was so hard for you to believe him. He didn’t ask who had left you expecting pain from every touch, from every lingering moment.
He only let his hand remain where it was, grounding, steady—yours, if you wanted it.
And finally, you did.
You didn’t say anything that night. You didn’t have to.
But after that, something changed.
Sylus, perceptive as always, noticed immediately.
The way your body no longer tensed at his presence. The way you lingered just a little closer when you stood beside him. The way your fingers, hesitant at first, brushed against the sleeve of his coat as if testing a boundary you weren’t sure you were allowed to cross.
And the way, eventually, you did.
It happened late one evening, when the city outside was silent, the only sounds in the room the distant hum of a record player spinning on low and the soft shuffle of papers on his desk.
You had been sitting across from him, absentmindedly twirling a pen between your fingers when, out of nowhere—you reached for him.
Your hand, small but steady, settled against his.
No hesitation. No flinching. No fear.
Sylus, always composed, almost stopped breathing.
You didn’t say anything, and neither did he.
But his fingers curled over yours, slow, deliberate—a silent promise.
A promise that, for the first time in your life, someone’s touch wouldn’t bring pain.
And that was enough.
For now.
Xavier
The first time Xavier reached for you, you flinched.
It was instinct, sharp and immediate. His fingers had barely brushed your sleeve before you jerked away, stepping out of reach so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet. His hand hung in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, tilting his head as if trying to decipher something unsaid.
You weren’t looking at him, though. You were staring at your own hands, fingers curled into fists at your sides, knuckles tight. Get it together.
"You okay?" His voice was light, easy, like he hadn’t just watched you recoil from his touch as if it burned.
You forced yourself to nod. "Yeah. Just—" You hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "You shouldn’t do that."
Xavier raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"
You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze with something colder than you really felt. "Touch me."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable before his expression shifted back to something more familiar—a smirk, teasing but careful. "Alright," he said, as if it didn’t matter. "No touching."
Except it did matter. Because Xavier wasn’t someone who kept his hands to himself—not in an intrusive way, but in a way that made him feel real. He was the kind of person who nudged you with his elbow when he made a joke, who ruffled your hair just to annoy you, who tugged at your sleeve when he wanted your attention.
But he listened.
For the next few weeks, he was careful. He kept his distance, kept his hands in his pockets, kept a respectable space between the two of you even when it was just the two of you on a mission, walking side by side.
And for some reason, it made your chest ache.
You wanted him close.
You just didn’t know how to let him be.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. If anything, that was the problem.
Xavier had wormed his way into your life in a way no one else had before. He was constant—too constant, maybe. There was no hesitation in the way he cared, no moment of doubt in his affection. He liked you, so he showed it. He wanted to be around you, so he was. There was no second-guessing, no caution.
You didn’t know what to do with that.
Because affection had always come with conditions. Because touches had always been accompanied by something sharp—by expectation, by control, by violence.
So the idea of Xavier touching you with nothing but warmth?
It scared you more than any fight ever had.
"You ever gonna tell me why?"
You blinked up from where you sat at the edge of a rooftop, staring out at the cityscape below. Xavier was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.
"Why what?"
"Why you don’t like me touching you." His voice wasn’t accusing, wasn’t pushing—it was just curious.
You swallowed. "I just don’t."
Xavier hummed, as if considering that. "You sure about that?"
You tensed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged, stepping forward—not close, but closer. "I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes."
Your heart skipped. "I don’t—"
"You do," he interrupted, voice softer now. "Like you want me to reach for you, but you don’t know if you should let me."
You exhaled sharply. "It’s not that simple."
"Then explain it to me."
Your fingers curled against the fabric of your sleeves, gripping tightly. You should have expected this—Xavier wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. He was patient, sure, but he wasn’t blind. He noticed things, noticed you.
And now, he was waiting.
You stared at your hands. "If you touch me without violence," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "you’ll be the first."
Silence.
For a moment, you thought he might not have heard you. But then, after a long pause, Xavier let out a quiet breath.
"That’s a damn shame," he said. His voice was soft, but not pitying. "Because you deserve better than that."
You didn’t look at him. "Maybe."
"You do," he said, firmer this time. "And I want to prove it to you."
Your breath hitched. "Xavier—"
"I won’t touch you until you want me to," he promised. "But when you do?" His gaze was steady, unwavering. "I’ll make sure you never have to doubt it."
It took time.
Xavier kept his promise. He didn’t touch you—not even accidentally. He was careful, patient in a way that made your chest ache. But he never pulled away emotionally. He was still there, still unwavering, still him.
And slowly, slowly, you started to realize something.
You wanted to close that distance.
You wanted him.
It started small—lingering closer when you walked together, sitting next to him instead of across the room, letting your shoulders brush just slightly before pulling away. And Xavier noticed. He always did.
But he didn’t push.
He let you take your time, let you move at your own pace.
Until one night, after a mission, when you were exhausted and sore and tired of your own fear, you turned to him and—hesitantly, carefully—reached for his hand.
His fingers twitched in surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. He let you take his hand in yours, let you squeeze it lightly before letting go just as quickly.
You expected him to say something—maybe tease you, maybe push for more. But he didn’t. He just smiled, warm and real.
"Was that so bad?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone.
You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Shut up."
Xavier chuckled, but there was something softer in his gaze. "Alright. No teasing. Not today, anyway."
You nudged him lightly with your elbow. "I hate you."
He grinned. "You love me."
You paused.
Then, quietly, you admitted, "Yeah."
Xavier stilled. His smile faltered—just for a second—before it softened into something genuine. Something real.
"Good," he murmured.
And for the first time, when he reached for you, you didn’t pull away.
Zayne
Zayne had always been patient. It was in his nature, woven into the fabric of his being just as much as his steady hands and level-headed presence. As a surgeon, patience was a necessity—an unwavering calm in the face of pressure, a stillness when chaos reigned.
But this was different.
This was you.
You, with your guarded eyes and the walls you built around yourself so high that even he, with all his skill, couldn’t navigate them easily. He had known from the start that you were different—not because you were difficult, not because you weren’t capable of love, but because the world had been cruel to you in ways it hadn’t been to him.
And still, he wanted you.
It started slow. The quiet companionship, the moments where neither of you needed to speak but simply existed together. A shared cup of tea in the morning. The warmth of his coat draped over your shoulders on a cold night. He never pushed, never asked for more than you could give, and yet…
Even he had limits to his patience.
Zayne had always been affectionate. Not in a way that was overwhelming, nor in grand declarations. No, his love was in the small things—in the way his fingers would brush against yours when passing you something, in the way his voice would soften when speaking your name, in the way he would lean in, close enough that you could feel his warmth but never quite touching.
And so, when he reached for you one evening—just a simple touch, the lightest brush of his fingertips against your wrist—he hadn’t expected you to recoil the way you did.
You flinched, your entire body going rigid, as if his touch had burned you.
Zayne froze. His hazel-green eyes flickered with something unreadable before he slowly withdrew his hand, watching you carefully. He wasn’t offended, nor was he hurt, but there was something in his expression that made your stomach twist.
“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice quieter than you intended.
His brows furrowed slightly. “I—”
“If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”
The words tumbled out before you could stop them, raw and sharp. The room felt heavier in their wake, like the air had been sucked from it.
Zayne didn’t speak for a moment. He simply looked at you, studying you in that careful way he always did—like he was dissecting a puzzle, trying to understand without breaking it further.
You hated the silence. Hated the way it stretched between you like an open wound.
Then, finally, he exhaled softly.
“I see.”
And just like that, he shifted back, putting a comfortable distance between you. Not out of rejection, not out of frustration, but because he understood. He always understood.
You expected him to ask. To pry. To demand to know what had led you to this—why you had flinched, why you had spoken those words with such bitterness. But he didn’t.
He simply nodded, accepting it as fact, and changed the subject.
It should have been a relief.
It wasn’t.
Because Zayne, for all his patience and for all his understanding, was not one to simply forget.
Days passed. Then weeks.
Zayne hadn’t touched you since.
Not in the way he used to. No fleeting brushes of his fingertips, no teasing nudges, no quiet, lingering moments where his warmth bled into yours. It was as if he had drawn a line in the sand and refused to cross it.
You told yourself it was for the best.
So why did it feel so much worse?
You had never needed touch. Never craved it, never longed for it. But now, in the absence of it, you felt its loss like a phantom pain. You missed it.
You missed him.
And so, when you found yourself standing outside his apartment one evening, your fingers curled into fists at your sides, you knew you had to do something.
The door opened before you could even knock.
Zayne blinked at you, surprised but not displeased. He stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you in.
You hesitated.
And then, taking a deep breath, you walked past him, into the familiar warmth of his home.
He didn’t ask why you were there.
He simply poured you tea, as he always did, and waited.
You stared at the cup in your hands, fingers tightening around the ceramic.
“I don’t…” You hesitated. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Zayne tilted his head slightly, watching you with quiet patience. “Stop what?”
You swallowed. “Touching me.”
For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely surprised. Not in a dramatic way—Zayne was never dramatic—but in the way his fingers stilled against his cup, in the way his gaze softened ever so slightly.
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said, his voice as steady as ever.
“I did.” Your throat felt tight. “I do. But I also… I don’t know.” You exhaled sharply. “I just… don’t want you to stop trying.”
Something in his expression shifted.
He set his cup down carefully before looking at you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. Not with judgment, not with pity—just understanding.
“I never stopped,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched.
“I just adjusted,” he continued. “To what you needed.”
And you realized, with startling clarity, that he had been touching you. Just not in the way you had expected.
It was in the way he always made you tea, the way he listened so intently, the way he never pushed, never pried, but always made sure you knew he was there.
He had been touching you in the only way you would allow.
And now? Now, you wanted more.
Tentatively, hesitantly, you reached out.
Your fingers brushed against the back of his hand, and you felt him still beneath your touch.
It was light. Barely there. But it was enough.
Zayne didn’t move. Didn’t push for more.
He simply let you choose.
And, for the first time in your life, you did.
You let yourself be touched—gently, without violence, without fear.
Zayne, patient as ever, simply held still and let you set the pace.
And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid.
#Xavier#Xavier x mc#Xavier x reader#Xavier x you#Xavier love and deepspace#Love and deepspace#Rafayel#Rafayel x mc#Rafayel x reader#Rafayel x you#Rafayel love and deepspace#Zayne#Zayne x mc#Zayne x reader#Zayne x you#Zayne love and deepspace#Caleb#Caleb x mc#Caleb x reader#Caleb x you#Caleb love and deepspace#Prompt#Sylus#Sylus x mc#Sylus x reader#Sylus x you#Sylus love and deepspace
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅺ)
hi everyone i am back and boy has there been some amazing fics posted while i was away it's awaken that spark in me again and this list is honestly packed, i went over like 60 fics for this one and i even added some of my ult. faves. the ones i have to mention again because they are just so amazing, trust me you will be going back for more over and over again too. you might notice some fics from ao3 and wattpad included as well they are hold a special place in my heart, they are masterpieces that need to be shared with you guys so please enjoy this new list and give all the authors mentioned all the love and respect they deserve seriously they work so hard on creating these beautiful fics and they deserve all the attention and gratitude we can offer them so please share your love through a like, comment and reblog them so they can feel the love and more people can find their masterlists and accounts because they have some really good fics there as well. I just wanna send an honourable mention to every single writer i have added to this list without you i would not have so much happiness when i come on this app and you have filled my heart and countless others with so much joy and happiness we appreciate you more than you will ever know and you make being here 10 times better your stories help us through alot and puts smiles on our faces and we get to spend time with a community of people who love what we love and we get to interact because of your ideas and it creates such an amazing experience so thank you for everything that you do the worlds you create and the ideas you come up and for sharing it all with us i adore you so much and you are just the best so once again thank you for everything and i look forward to what so many of you have planned - kiki ♡
NO MINORS ALLOWED PLEASE DON'T INTERACT!
happy reading everyone i hope you enjoy this extra long list of my faves and please remember to be happy and keep on smiling and interact if you want i love hearing from you guys and if you want you can send me a few of your faves 🥹🖤✨
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f - fluff s-smut a - angst
series
lines of fate by @kookiestarlight s a exes au zombie apocalypses tattooist jk
⋆ the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.
lost stars by @hueseok f a roommates e2l slow burn college au (33.2k)
⋆ the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.
a lovers kiss by @/hueseok f s a fwb i2l college au (55.6k)
⋆ a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course. and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.
hell is empty by @aquagustd f s a ft.kth love triangle dadJK exJK CEO kth (164.4k)
⋆ life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.
to the stars by arckook (ao3) a zombie apocalypse (94.6k)
⋆ It was always you, and Jimin, and your best friend Jihyun. But fate, regardless of whether you believed in it or not, had other plans for you. Jimin told you once, "It's a tough road to the stars." Nowadays it was hard to believe the stars were somewhere you could reach.
moirai by norabean (ao3) f s a soulmates slow burn (95.2k)
⋆ On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.
from home by @yuzukult f s a e2l richkid jk fakedating au (89.5k)
⋆ a rich kid who gets cut off from family money meets an average post-grad girl who may be the key to getting him back on his parents’ good side.
and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. kth e2l love triangle tsundere jk s2l (103.k+)
⋆ it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.
future hearts by @jungblue f s a ft. pjm punk jikook s2l band au f2l lost love (114.6k)
⋆ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.
mind games by @yerion f a tsundere jk roommates au (31.8k)
⋆ jungkook drives you to think strict criticism isn’t too bad, purely because you didn’t expect things to turn a bit steamier than intended. as the one and only female esports player, misery was at your fingertip when your skills suddenly deteriorated. however, the stoic leader of your team—jungkook, simply couldn’t sit back. he puts you back on track, yet no one told you sparks would fly; and the crazy fact that it’s inevitable
heartbeat by @xbaepsae s a ft myg unrequited love (24.9k)
⋆ “You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.“
one year, my love by @hayjeon f s a historical/royal au 100 days my prince kdrama (31k)
⋆ You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.
the love prognosis by @awrkive f s a medical au roommates f2l (90.7k)
⋆ for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
ever a never after by @yoonia s ft. ksj enchanted au (51.8+k)
⋆ Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.
between takes by @jeonstudios f s a fluffer au porn star au (74.6k)
⋆ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard
Shatter With Me by @colormepurplex2 f s a surrogate au best friends husband (46.4k)
⋆ Your best friend, Jiyoon, and her husband, Jungkook, have faced years of hardship trying to start a family. In a last-ditch effort to have their dream life, they seek solace in surrogacy. Wanting to see your best friend smile, you offer to become the bright beacon at the end of the tunnel, giving them what they have always wanted. But what happens when you begin to shine your light on their darkness? Things aren’t always as they seem—happiness can be a façade, shattering under the lightest pressure.
Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts f s a college au brother best friend forbidden love (218.5k)
⋆ when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
hold me close by @ahundredtimesover f s a brother best friend (41.8k)
⋆ When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though
sugar high by @yeojaa f a idol au childhood best friends unrequited love (33.3k)
⋆ You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.
the law of attraction by @jexnkookie f s a lawyer jk girl of his dreams (26.9k)
⋆ Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.
love bug by @here4kpopfics f s a established relationship (30.4k)
⋆ A collection of stories and drabbles with my comfort couple Jungkook and Love Bug as I affectionally call her. They were my first couple to write in over a decade and I hold them very close to my heart.
sh by @wwilloww f s a ot7 f2l (118k)
⋆ Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?
bloodlines entwined by @spideyjimin f s a s2l soulmates werewolf au royalty au (30.8+)
⋆ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.
jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien f s a bf2l fake dating (52k)
⋆ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
not in that way by @girlygguk f s a ft. myg unrequited love bf2l (30k)
⋆ in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.
live through this by @starshapedkookie f s a band au exes to frenemies to lovers (46.5k)
⋆ A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.
a story that we paint by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft.kth college au scifi au (25k)
⋆ in which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.
crimson park by heartbeatan f s a e2l crime au(159.6k)
angel in the darkness by @icyhobi s a mafia au prostitution au
⋆ after a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named jeon jungkook.
one night stand by @buryhny f s a ceo au e2l (382k)
⋆ as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.
the alpha omega series by @borathae f s a childhood best friends to enemies to lovers werewolf au (40.8k)
⋆ Jungkook is the son of the pack Alpha and therefore heir of the titel. You are an omega and utterly out of his league. This is the story of how, against all odds, you and he became true mates.
4-7-8 by @jiminrings a marriage au (73k+)
⋆ you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
netflix & chill by @1kook f s blindate collge au (113.7+)
⋆ If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.
the bad blind date by ravsisrekt f s a idol au f2l (wattpad)
⋆ Being set up on a date is hard as it is. But being set up on a date where the boy you're with loves your best friend is even harder-and trust me, being bubbly, cute, and incredibly hilarious doesn't work on him either…but on the other members it certainly does.
sns by narcotichobi f s a idol au s2l (wattpad)
⋆ Jae is a twenty-one year old Korean-American university student whose life is just ordinary. Struggling through the confines of cultural differences between her lifestyle and ethnicity, Jae finds herself through social media outlets and the integration of k-pop into her American life. Jungkook is a twenty year old singer, dancer and producer of the Korean-Pop idol group, BTS (방탄소년단). He works over twelve hours a day and has almost every second of his life circulating around social media. Jungkook, with newly found dating privileges, is slow to trust another person with his personal life and thoughts. Follow Jae and Jungkook through a love-story heavily motivated by social media and press
40 weeks by magicalmochii f s a teeange pregnancy f2l (wattpad)
⋆ They didn't want to be virgins when they graduated. Two friends agree to let go of their innocence together, no strings attached. Life had other plans.
unconditionally by magicalmochii f s a parents au (wattpad) sequel to 40 weeks
⋆ They survived high school and overcame the obstacles that tried to break them apart. Together they adapt to college life and work, all while caring for their new baby. Now, two friends turned lovers prepare for their wedding. Life had other plans. The continuation of 40 Weeks. Bring tissues.
blood ink by pocketbangtan f s a gang au tattoo artist jk (wattpad)
⋆ "That's my tattoo, Y/N, on your body. You know exactly what that means."
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one shot
wait for your love by @/spideyjimin f s a exes2lovers parents (17.3k)
⋆ sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.
Inkling by @gguksgalaxy s a f2l tattoo artist jk (17.7k)
⋆Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?
in this paradise by @ressjeon f s a s2l survivor au (16.3k)
⋆ in an attempt to escape what’s been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn��t expect and then there’s you who somehow couldn’t believe to find company in this isolated land. was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both?
sleepover by @personasintro f s best friends brother (10.4k)
⋆ Jungkook is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?
bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer f s a exes to lovers (4.6k)
⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
the devil’s change up by @/jungblue f s a coach au (41.3k)
⋆ Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better.
entertainer by @taegularities f s a s2l (32.4k)
⋆ Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.
habits of a clandestine nature by @alphabetboyluvr s a college au rich jk e2l (16k)
explorer by @/1kook f s alien au s2f2l (17.8k)
⋆ Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.
million dollar darling by @kooktrash f s a e2f2l crazy rixh asians inspired (19.7k)
⋆ jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.
little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a summer love suferjk (9.8k)
⋆ every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.
the whole of your heart by @lcksndkys f s a husband au band au (8k)
⋆ Save a drum, bang a drummer.
sketch by @moonscriptsx f s soulmate au artist jk (9.6k)
⋆ After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to the face — and she's so much more than what he's dreamt of
strings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode f s spiderkook college au (11.8k)
⋆ You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.
it was always you by @/hueseok f s a childhood best friends to lovers (13.2k)
⋆ for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.or at least, that’s what you think.
mio angelo by @/hueseok f s a mafia au established relationship (33.3k)
⋆ it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself. inspired by the godfather and vincenzo
ultimatum by @parkmuse f s spiderkook (10.3k)
⋆ Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).
melomaniac by @jungkxook f s a band au f2l (13k)
⋆ you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.
Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife f s a exes2lovers (18.9k)
⋆ A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.
will it fit? by @jeonsweetpea f s idiots2lovers roommate au (6.7K)
⋆ So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
pull me down by @starryeyedkoo f a badboy gang college au (22.9k)
⋆ “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”
espresso by @joonberriess f s a boxer jk idol oc (14.6k)
⋆ a rowdy boxer and the pretty it-girl he bagged by being him. jungkook’s doing anything to prove he’s serious, even if it means making a fool outta himself.
changes in between by @/taegularities f s a roommates s2f2l (24.7k)
⋆ Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.
not my fault by @/taegularities f s college au classmates 2 lovers (12.6k)
⋆ After sparking a sinful conversation on a dating app, you vow to yourself that you won’t give in to more the notorious college fuckboy Jeon Jungkook might have to offer. That is, until he rings your doorbell just one night later – and it’s truly not your fault that he’s so damn hard to resist.
the secret beneath our stars by @subvk s a college au f2l (13.1k)
⋆ Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?
mature by @/jiminrings f a pining f2l (8k)
⋆ alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.
movie goers by @mi55delulu f s a e2f2l (16.4k)
⋆ starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.
hopless hearts by @cupofteaguk f idol au s2l (17k)
⋆ you never understood the gravity of your position as an intern working Kcon until you fall for one of your favorite idols, Jeon Jungkook—quite literally too.
dissonance by @/yuzukult f s a rockstar jk student oc (19.4k)
⋆ something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything… but all he’s missing is you.
this is how we break by @ahundredtimesover f s a exes au (20.6k)
⋆ There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost.
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↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#moon's recs#jungkook#jungkook:oneshot#jungkook:series#favourites!jjk#jungkook:smut#jungkook:fluff#jungkook:angst#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook series#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenario#jungkook wattpad#jungkook ao3#jeon jungkook angst#jeon jungkook imagine#jungkook au#jeon jungkook x reader#jjk#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook smut
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i miss you, come here ! | t.oikawa
-> pairing: ts!oikawa tooru x gn!reader | sfw | cw: headcanons, suggestive content under the cut, reader is in university, long distance, manga spoilers ig, bittersweet ending | mlist
-> rq: boyfriend headcanons with oikawa tooru
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7271174374e5b0af61c38c685a0b0a77/1732137198b0df5c-70/s540x810/49039d4e2008cc8565c2faafac833c09190544b8.jpg)
boyfriend!oikawa who started dating you in high school. you were heartbroken when he told you he was going abroad post-graduation, but he assured you that long distance would work.
boyfriend!oikawa who has never failed to text you “good morning” and “goodnight” despite the time difference between you guys. the messages are also always accompanied by a selfie of him. he says it’s to prevent you from “ forgetting about his pretty face,” but that’s nearly impossible to do considering images of him are plastered on every magazine you read and news channel you turn on. it’s nice to have pictures of him that are solely for you, though.
boyfriend!oikawa who brags to everyone he meets in argentina about how lucky he is to have you as his partner. his teammates feel like they’re the ones dating you from how often he rambles about how much he loves you. he could drone on for hours about how smart you are for going to university, or how cute you are when you scrunch your nose at him. he’s obsessed with you and makes it everybody else’s problem.
boyfriend!oikawa who gets offended when his PR team suggests marketing him as an available bachelor to increase his popularity. he reassures you that he’d never sacrifice the integrity of your guys’ relationship to get a little ahead in his career. he express-ships a big bouquet of flowers to your door as a way to apologize even though he did nothing wrong. (he calls it “proactive damage control”)
boyfriend!oikawa who unfollows everybody except for you on his social media accounts to prove his devotion. this causes quite a stir and results in your classmates staring at you when you walk into your lectures. you’re known around campus as “oikawa tooru’s significant other,” but you and him agree that there are worse things to be known as.
boyfriend!oikawa who notices how stressed you get from being a university student, so he surprises you with a round-trip business class ticket to argentina. he squeezes you so tight when he sees you for the first time that you think you may suffocate. as he holds you, you can feel the wetness of his tears against the back of your shirt, but you decide not to tease him about it. you missed him too.
boyfriend!oikawa who’s excited to show you the life he’s built for himself. he shows you his favorite beaches, introduces you to his teammates (who you apologize to in broken spanish about how annoying your boyfriend is), and takes you to the best restaurants in town. when you two go out for food, he orders for you in perfect spanish, and the dishes he recommends for you to try are always better than what you would’ve ordered for yourself. it reminds you how well he knows you.
boyfriend!oikawa who’s shocked when you admit one night during dinner that you’re afraid that he doesn’t need you anymore because of how well he’s assimilated to argentina without you. he takes your hand and fervently reassures you that despite moving here, you’ll always be his home.
boyfriend!oikawa who won’t let go of your hand the entire time you’re walking on the beach afterward. “people are staring, tooru.” “let them stare.”
boyfriend!oikawa who takes you to the airport when you eventually have to leave. he impulsively buys a ticket for the flight solely to wait with you at your gate for as long as possible. when it’s finally time to board, he watches with teary eyes as you walk away. it takes all his willpower not to get on the plane with you.
boyfriend!oikawa who loves you more than life itself and is counting the days until he can be with you again.
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extras ! (cw: suggestive :3)
boyfriend!oikawa who’s loved kissing you since the beginning of your relationship, but now that you’re long distance, there’s a little more desperation in his touch. during nights spent together, he makes a habit of littering you with kisses. his lips start at the top of your head, make their way down to your stomach, and if he’s feeling lucky he goes a little further.
boyfriend!oikawa who unwinds after practice by hand-feeding you food. it’s cute at first, but sometimes it goes overboard and makes you wonder what his true motivations are. “try this one. this one too!” “tooru, you’re gonna make me choke” “im just getting you prepped!” “FOR WHAT.”
boyfriend!oikawa who almost convinces you to extend your trip simply by how well he knows how to make you tick. when you kiss for the last time, his hand snakes down your waist and pulls you closer in a way that leaves you breathless. he laughs at your blissed-out expression and tells you, “you’ll have to visit your lonely boyfriend again to get another one of those.” you roll your eyes and whisper in his ear to inquire about other things you’ll get when you visit him again, and he goes red in the face.
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—a/n: me making oikawa content on this blog is the equivalent of walking into your kitchen and seeing a fish cooking pasta.
#oikawa tooru#haikyuu#oikawa x reader#oikawa x you#oikawa x y/n#oikawa fluff#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa tooru fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq x you
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I got another one!
Reader REALLY smart I am talking smarter then ALL of them but being passed on as useless untill solving a problem which is made for Harvard university final year students in a matter of seconds?
Thank you for your time!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b310e03b5de466153f8d656af66173cb/93648175aa66dbab-b0/s540x810/3c091156fc5e2f96081c716d9b44dfd58b1d14d5.jpg)
**English is not my native language**
**I know it's bad But it will be sorted out**
I loved your idea and made a little sketch
---
In the Batcave, Tim sat at the computer, intensely focused on the screen. The problem in front of him was challenging—a mathematical equation designed for Harvard University senior students. The room was silent, except for the sound of his fingers rapidly tapping the keyboard. With every move, he believed he was one step closer to a solution, but still, he couldn’t find the answer. Numbers and formulas on the screen tangled together, each one seemingly going in its own direction, never quite coming together.
At that moment, the room was empty aside from you and Tim. Everyone else was off doing their own thing, but Tim's problem was the toughest of them all. You couldn't help but think of the way they all saw you—Bruce’s little girl, a mistake from a one-night stand, dismissed as nothing more than a nuisance. Everyone treated you like you were dumb, like you didn’t matter. They didn’t understand you, but that didn’t bother you. Not really. You knew what you were capable of, even if no one else did.
You watched Tim work for a while, then walked over to him, standing just behind his shoulder. "Need some help?" you asked, your voice calm and collected, tinged with just a hint of confidence.
Tim glanced up at you, pausing for a moment, then shook his head. "This is a problem Harvard seniors would struggle with, there’s no way you can solve it."
You raised an eyebrow. "Harvard, huh? You’ve really overcomplicated this."
Without waiting for a response, you leaned in and began typing, your fingers flying over the keys with remarkable speed. Within seconds, the problem was solved. Tim watched in shock as the solution appeared on the screen, his disbelief palpable.
“How... how did you do that so fast?” Tim asked, his voice a mix of surprise and awe.
You glanced up at him, giving a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Harvard’s brightest students would take hours to solve this. I guess the problem was in making it seem harder than it really is."
After your words, you turned and walked away, leaving Tim staring at the screen, still processing what had just happened. As you left the room, you didn’t look back. You knew that despite their views, despite the way they underestimated you, you were more than capable. And that was something they would have to learn the hard way.
No one had seen your potential—not yet. But you knew what you were worth. And that was enough.
#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#batfam x reader#batfam#batfamily x reader#batfamily#tim drake x reader#bruce wayne#batman#dc x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere batboys#yandere tim drake#neglected reader
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Sugar, Baby
Chapter Three: Unraveling
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/000e55bfa86a4ad78bbe7fe22d6017f0/e6e5a5b8435221be-71/s540x810/4e98e035ed120c33326d5e1288f9e88340b9db60.jpg)
Bruce Wayne x Sugar Baby! Reader
| Part 1 | | Part 2 |
I pinky promise there will be smut in the next part🤞 I just felt like making this one a bit of a slow burn
Taglist: @shadowqueen1322 @secretsideofbree @lillyrob
It started with nights at the manor.
At first, it was just a casual thing—Bruce would send a car, and you’d spend an evening talking over expensive whiskey, letting the world outside the Wayne estate fade into irrelevance. You still worked at the bar, still went to class, but somehow, Bruce had become a fixture in your life.
And it wasn’t just the money.
Yes, he still tipped you ridiculous amounts when he showed up at the bar. Yes, the black card he’d given you sat in your wallet, burning a hole you had yet to fill. But more than that, he was there.
The texts started coming more frequently.
B: You still alive?
You: Barely. My professor is trying to kill me with this assignment.
B: Send me the prompt. I’ll have my team handle it.
You: Absolutely not.
B: I don’t like seeing you stressed.
You: And I don’t like billionaire academic fraud.
B: Fair point.
He called, too—not often, but enough that you found yourself waiting for the sound of his voice on the other end of the line.
The nights at the manor got longer.
At first, it was just drinks and conversation, but then there were the quiet dinners Alfred started preparing for two instead of one. The slow walks through the grand halls of the estate, the firelit nights spent sprawled on the couch in the library, his arm slung lazily over the backrest behind you.
And then, of course, there were the kisses.
God, the kisses.
They started slow, teasing, an extension of whatever sharp-witted conversation you’d been having before he inevitably leaned in. Bruce kissed with purpose, with intent, with the kind of control that made you dizzy.
But that’s all it was.
Kissing.
He never pushed, never let things go further than you could handle, and part of you wondered if he knew.
If he had already pieced together that you had never done this before.
Not this—not just the kisses, but the way he made you feel.
Because it wasn’t just physical.
Bruce knew you.
He listened when you ranted about your classes, when you muttered about your deadlines, when you offhandedly mentioned your favorite books or movies. He remembered, too—casually dropping facts about your life into conversation, surprising you with small gestures that proved he had been paying attention.
“Tell me something real,” you murmured one night, curled up next to him on the oversized couch in his study.
Bruce glanced down at you, brow raising slightly. “Something real?”
You nodded. “Something not in the tabloids.”
He was silent for a moment, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your knee.
“I never sleep for more than three hours at a time,” he admitted finally. “It’s been that way since I was a kid.”
You frowned, shifting to get a better look at him. “Why?”
His gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his expression. “You know why.”
You did.
Gotham knew the story of Thomas and Martha Wayne—the billionaire philanthropists gunned down in an alley, the grieving son left behind.
“I dream about them,” Bruce continued, voice quieter now. “Not always in the way you’d think. Sometimes it’s just… glimpses. My mother’s perfume. My father’s laugh. I wake up before I can hold onto any of it.”
Your chest tightened.
You reached for his hand without thinking, threading your fingers through his. Bruce blinked, as if surprised, before his grip tightened around yours.
He didn’t pull away.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, rubbing a slow, deliberate pattern over your knuckles. “I just—”
“I’m glad you told me,” you interrupted softly.
He exhaled, eyes flickering toward your lips.
That night, the kisses were softer.
Not urgent. Not desperate. Just there.
Something real.
—
It was a few weeks later when you finally asked.
You were sitting in Bruce’s bedroom—an indulgently large space that still somehow felt distinctly him. There was a fireplace crackling in the corner, the low golden light casting shadows across the room.
Bruce was on the bed beside you, leaning against the headboard, sleeves rolled up as he scrolled through something on his phone. You had a book open in your lap, though you weren’t really reading it.
Instead, you were watching him.
“Bruce.”
He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Mm?”
You hesitated. “Are you… waiting for something?”
He set his phone down, eyes scanning your face. “What do you mean?”
Your fingers tightened slightly around the book. “I mean, we’ve been… this for a while now.”
Bruce’s lips twitched. “This?”
You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he admitted.
You exhaled. “So, are you waiting? For me?”
His expression shifted, something fond passing through his features.
“Yes,” he said simply.
Your stomach flipped. “Why?”
Bruce sat up, moving closer. One of his hands found your knee, fingers brushing against the fabric of your leggings.
“Because I know you,” he said, voice low. “I know you wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t real for you.”
You swallowed hard. “And?”
His thumb traced slow circles against your leg.
“And I want to take my time with you.”
You felt yourself flush, warmth spreading through your body at the implication.
Bruce smirked slightly, tilting your chin up with the crook of his finger.
“You deserve more than rushed decisions,” he murmured. “I don’t need more. Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”
You inhaled sharply. “I—”
His lips brushed against yours, soft and coaxing.
“Don’t overthink it,” he whispered against your mouth.
And for once, you didn’t.
—
It didn’t happen that night.
Or the next.
Or the one after that.
But somehow, the waiting didn’t feel like waiting.
Masterlist
#bruce wayne fluff#bruce wayne smut#bruce wayne fanfiction#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne#batfam#batfamily#batman#dc#dc comics#batman smut#batman fanfiction
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Do I wanna know? (Part 3)
Agatha and you have a talk about the future
Word count: 4k
Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead
“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.”
Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.”
Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff.
Of course she’s feeling sorry for you.
“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands.
Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her.
Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.”
In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls.
“I would never—”
You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?”
Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”
Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?”
There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need.
“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”
Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you.
But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”
You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.”
“What about your parents? What would you tell them?”
Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.
She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”
“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes.
Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?”
You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right?
“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.”
Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before.
But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it?
The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy?
You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.
The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it.
“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds.
Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?”
No! Stay with me! I fucking love you!
“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat.
You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?
She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again.
“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”
You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.
It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it.
And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?
If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you.
“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”
You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell.
She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it.
It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body.
You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings.
Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent.
Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly.
“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”
The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know.
“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.”
Can you?
It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish.
It’s clear that you cannot say no.
You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant.
But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything.
And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months.
Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.”
A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better.
The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being.
The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip.
Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded.
There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches.
Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else.
“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her?
When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth.
Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her.
She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you.
“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed.
Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad.
“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough.
But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you.
“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real.
She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back.
You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens.
But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more.
So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.
“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed.
She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?”
You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it.
But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly.
You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you.
The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously.
Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in.
All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha.
If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it.
“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum.
She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning.
“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.”
The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils.
That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree.
“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other.
You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck.
She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you.
“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating.
Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
And you think you might actually believe her.
@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut
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dating another member’s older sibling, ATEEZ.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/12aa6c47ab4b9485f80b40d6a56311a0/9bd97cf2e324679c-8f/s540x810/16ba4918c24b72bb6310fd6cb0b428536fe1be56.jpg)
featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — an imagine of how the ateez boys sneak around when they’re secretly dating another member’s older sibling!
contents — fluff, no warnings.
hong ★ joong
hongjoong prided himself on his ability to keep a secret, and dating yunho’s older sibling in secret was no exception. he knew the chaos it would bring if yunho found out — he could already imagine the loud accusations and awkward silences. but that didn’t stop him from stealing precious moments with you whenever he could.
one afternoon, you had agreed to meet hongjoong in a quiet café across town, far from yunho’s usual haunts. he was already seated in the corner, a baseball cap pulled low over his face, when you walked in. his face lit up at the sight of you, and he couldn’t help but reach for your hand under the table once you sat down.
“you’re late,” he teased, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.
“traffic,” you replied, rolling your eyes before grinning. “yunho almost caught me leaving, too. he asked where i was going.”
hongjoong smirked. “what did you tell him?”
“that i was meeting a friend. which isn’t a lie, technically,” you said, leaning closer.
hongjoong chuckled softly, but his expression turned serious. “we need to be careful. he’s not stupid, and if he starts connecting the dots…”
“i know,” you said, squeezing his hand. “but this is worth it, joong. you’re worth it.”
he smiled, his heart swelling with affection. moments like these reminded him why he was willing to take the risk.
later, back at the dorms, hongjoong nearly had a heart attack when yunho suddenly asked, “have you been texting someone a lot lately? you’re always grinning at your phone.”
hongjoong kept his face neutral, glancing up from his laptop. “just group stuff. you know, schedules and all.”
yunho narrowed his eyes but didn’t push further. hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief. it was a delicate game they were playing, but as long as he could keep seeing you, he’d find a way to make it work.
seong ★ hwa
seonghwa wasn’t one for taking risks, but dating san’s older sibling secretly was an exception. he couldn’t bear to stay away, even if it meant sneaking around and dodging san’s sharp eyes.
one evening, you and seonghwa were sitting in his car, parked on a quiet street near your house. the windows were slightly fogged up from the cold, and seonghwa’s fingers brushed against yours as he passed you a cup of coffee he’d brought.
“san’s been suspicious lately,” you said with a sigh. “he keeps asking who i’m spending so much time with.”
seonghwa frowned, his brows knitting together. “what did you tell him?”
“that i’ve been busy with work,” you replied, shrugging. “but i don’t think he bought it.”
seonghwa’s lips twitched into a small smile. “you’re a terrible liar.”
you nudged him playfully. “i wouldn’t have to lie if you’d just tell him.”
“and deal with san glaring at me for the rest of my life? no, thanks,” seonghwa said, chuckling. but there was a nervous edge to his laugh.
he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i hate hiding this, but i hate the idea of losing you even more.”
your heart melted at his words, and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
when you finally pulled away, seonghwa sighed. “we’ll figure it out. i just… i need a little more time to figure out how to tell him without it turning into a disaster.”
yun ★ ho
yunho never thought he’d be the type to sneak around, but dating wooyoung’s older sibling required a level of stealth he hadn’t known he was capable of. the problem wasn’t just that wooyoung was protective — it was that wooyoung had a way of knowing everything.
one afternoon, yunho met you at a secluded park. you’d brought a picnic basket, and yunho spread out the blanket while keeping a wary eye out for anyone who might recognize him.
“this feels like a spy movie,” you said with a laugh, handing him a sandwich.
yunho grinned, his dimple showing. “yeah, except i’m a terrible spy. if wooyoung ever caught us, i’d fold in five seconds.”
you chuckled, shaking your head. “he’d probably strangle you first and ask questions later.”
yunho laughed, but the thought clearly made him nervous. “i wish we didn’t have to hide,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “i want to be able to hold your hand in public, take you out without looking over my shoulder.”
“we’ll get there,” you said, squeezing his hand. “wooyoung will come around. eventually.”
yunho nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. that evening, back at the dorm, wooyoung flopped onto the couch next to him.
“you’ve been acting weird lately,” wooyoung said, squinting at him. “anything you want to tell me?”
yunho’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a laugh. “weird? me? nah, you’re imagining things.”
wooyoung eyed him suspiciously, but yunho quickly changed the subject. as nerve-wracking as it was, sneaking around felt worth it when he was with you. one day, he’d find a way to make it right. for now, he cherished every stolen moment.
yeo ★ sang
yeosang was meticulous by nature, so sneaking around with seonghwa’s older sibling wasn’t something he took lightly. every moment together was carefully planned, from choosing meeting spots far from prying eyes to ensuring his phone notifications were silent when you messaged him.
one evening, the two of you were huddled in a corner booth of a small, dimly lit café. yeosang had chosen the spot specifically for its privacy. his fingers lightly traced circles on your hand as you sipped your coffee.
“seonghwa was asking about you today,” you said, your voice low.
yeosang froze for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. “what did he say?”
“that i’ve been smiling a lot more lately,” you replied, grinning.
yeosang’s lips twitched upward into a small smile. “you do have a beautiful smile.”
you rolled your eyes playfully, but his compliment made your heart flutter. yeosang’s gaze softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“i hate that we have to hide this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but seonghwa would never let me live it down if he found out.”
you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “it’s worth it, though. you’re worth it.”
yeosang smiled, a rare but genuine expression, and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
later, as he returned to the dorm, seonghwa glanced up from his book. “where’ve you been?”
“just out for some air,” yeosang replied smoothly, though his heart raced.
seonghwa didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press further. yeosang exhaled quietly, determined to keep your relationship under wraps a little longer.
san ★
san loved adventure, but sneaking around with hongjoong’s older sibling was a thrill of a different kind. it wasn’t just about the secrecy — it was about the stolen moments that felt like they were yours and yours alone.
one night, san picked you up in his car, driving out to a secluded spot by the beach. the two of you sat on the hood of the car, watching the waves crash against the shore.
“i almost got caught today,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.
san turned to you, his eyebrows furrowing. “what happened?”
“hongjoong saw me texting you. i had to pretend it was a work thing,” you explained, laughing nervously.
san winced but chuckled. “you’re a terrible liar.”
you swatted his arm, but san caught your hand, intertwining your fingers. “i’ll tell him,” he said, his tone serious. “i just need to figure out the right time.”
you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “i know you will. just… don’t wait too long, okay?”
san nodded, his free hand coming up to brush your hair back. “i won’t. you’re too important to me to keep this a secret forever.”
as the two of you sat there, the sound of the waves filling the silence, san knew he’d never let anyone come between you — not even hongjoong.
min ★ gi
mingi wasn’t exactly subtle, which made sneaking around with wooyoung’s older sibling a challenge. but despite the risk, he couldn’t stay away from you.
one evening, the two of you were sitting in his parked car, sharing takeout and laughing over something ridiculous mingi had said.
“wooyoung would kill us if he found out,” you said, half-joking.
mingi paused mid-bite, then grinned. “probably. but it’s not like he can stop me.”
you laughed, but the nervous edge in your voice didn’t escape him. mingi set his food down and reached for your hand. “hey, don’t worry. i’ll handle it when the time comes.”
“you make it sound so easy,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat.
“it’s not easy,” mingi admitted, his voice softening. “but you’re worth it. every single risk, every sneaky meetup — it’s all worth it.”
your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned over to kiss him.
later, back at the dorm, wooyoung eyed mingi suspiciously as he walked in. “you smell like perfume. who’ve you been with?”
mingi froze for a split second before forcing a laugh. “must’ve been the lady at the takeout counter. she was wearing a lot of it.”
wooyoung didn’t look convinced but didn’t press further. mingi let out a silent sigh of relief, already counting down the hours until he could see you again.
woo ★ young
wooyoung wasn’t one to do things halfway, whether it was performing on stage or sneaking around with seonghwa’s older sibling. the thrill of keeping your relationship a secret only made it more exciting for him, but there were moments when even he felt the weight of it.
one afternoon, the two of you met at a small arcade in a quiet neighborhood. wooyoung had insisted on the location, saying it was “too random for anyone to suspect.”
“come on, just one more game,” he pleaded, holding up a token.
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “you just want another chance to win after i crushed you last round.”
“crushed me?” wooyoung gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “it was pure luck!”
as the two of you bantered, he leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “you’re really enjoying this, huh?”
you grinned. “maybe a little.”
wooyoung’s playful expression softened as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “i just love seeing you happy,” he murmured, his tone unusually tender.
before you could respond, your phone buzzed. you glanced at the screen and froze.
“who is it?” wooyoung asked, peering over your shoulder.
“it’s seonghwa,” you said, your voice tight. “he’s asking where i am.”
wooyoung’s eyes widened, and he quickly ushered you out of the arcade. “we need to go. he knows my hangout spots too well.”
as the two of you hurried down the street, wooyoung chuckled nervously. “this sneaking around is going to give me gray hair.”
“then let’s tell him,” you said, stopping in your tracks.
wooyoung hesitated, looking into your eyes. “soon,” he promised, taking your hand in his. “just give me a little more time to figure out how to survive the fallout.”
despite the tension, his sincerity made your heart flutter.
jong ★ ho
jongho was the steady, reliable type, but even he wasn’t immune to the chaos of sneaking around with yunho’s older sibling. his practicality and calm demeanor often clashed with the secrecy, but he couldn’t imagine giving you up.
one evening, the two of you were sitting in a quiet park, sharing a bag of snacks under the dim glow of a streetlamp. jongho’s hand rested casually on your knee as he told you about his day.
“yunho almost caught me texting you earlier,” he said, his voice calm but laced with a hint of amusement.
your eyes widened. “what did he say?”
jongho smirked. “nothing. i told him i was texting a friend, and he bought it.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re so chill about this.”
“i have to be,” he replied, squeezing your knee gently. “if i panic, you’ll panic, and then we’ll both give ourselves away.”
despite his calm exterior, jongho’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “i hate hiding this, though. you mean too much to me to keep you a secret forever.”
you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “then let’s tell him. what’s the worst that could happen?”
jongho chuckled softly. “yunho giving me a lecture for the rest of my life, probably.”
the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before jongho spoke again. “i’ll tell him soon,” he said, his voice steady. “i just need to figure out how to do it without ruining everything.”
as the night wore on, jongho walked you back to your car, his hand never leaving yours. despite the secrecy, his quiet confidence and unwavering presence made you feel like everything would be okay.
notes: interesting request! thank you anon, and i hope this was to your liking <3
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez reactions#ateez headcanons#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez angst#ateez smut#ateez au#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#ateez fics#ateez ot8 x reader#jongho x reader#ateez fluff
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what about quinn just basking in the way bug and mom interact?? its like they have their own secret language and he loves to watch it happen, makes him all fuzzy and warm and just honestly fall in love with you even more (if thats even possible) seeing you as a mom
i just know quinny would find himself tearing up every once in a while when he sees them all soft like this 😭😭
Quinn leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching.
The house is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the living room lamp. It’s late — Bug should be in bed by now, but instead, she’s curled up against you on the couch, her tiny body tucked into yours, head nestled beneath your chin. She’s talking, voice soft and sleepy, her words tumbling together in that half-lucid way they do when she’s fighting sleep. Quinn doesn’t catch all of it, but he doesn’t have to. Because you do. You always do.
And God, he loves watching it. Loves watching you. Loves watching you as a mother. It comes so effortlessly to you, like instinct, like something woven into your bones. The way you smooth your palm over Bug’s back in long, steady strokes, the way you hum in just the right places, murmuring quiet encouragements, responding to things Quinn doesn’t always follow, like you and Bug are speaking in a language only the two of you understand.
Bug pauses, her little lips pursing, fingers absentmindedly tracing tiny shapes against your arm, a habit she’s had since she was a baby. You don’t rush her. You just wait, patient, steady, your fingertips brushing through her curls, giving her all the space she needs to find her words. After a beat, she exhales, relaxing against you as the words come together in her sleepy little head.
“— and then the bunny had to go home,” Bug murmurs, voice getting sleepier by the second, “but the bear didn’t want her to.”
You tilt your head, waiting, because she always has more to say.
“Mm,” you encourage with a small hum, shifting just enough to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “That’s tough, huh? Bear and bunny are best friends.”
Bug nods against your chest, letting out a little sigh. “Yeah. But… but bunny said, ‘I have to go, bear. My mommy’s waiting for me.’”
You hum again, warm and soft. “Because her mommy misses her?”
Bug nods again, slow, eyes fluttering shut for a beat. Quinn thinks she’s finally given in, finally let sleep take her...
But then, in the tiniest voice, she murmurs, “You’d miss me too, right?”
Your arms tighten just slightly, your lips pressing to the crown of her head, fingers tracing slow, steady paths down her back. Quinn watches it happen — watches the way Bug knows the answer before you even say a word. She doesn’t need to ask again. She feels it in the way you hold her, in the warmth of your touch, in the way you keep her close like you never want to let go.
It’s something innate passing between the two of you, this quiet understanding that doesn’t need words.
Bug breathes out, a tiny, content hum slipping past her lips, her whole body going boneless against you. A smile, soft and sleepy, tugs at the corner of her mouth as she burrows impossibly closer, little fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt, clinging without urgency, without fear. Like she’s heard you loud and clear, even though you haven’t said a single word.
But you do, because you know she still wants to hear it.
“Oh, baby,” you murmur. “I always miss you when you’re not with me.”
And that’s all she needs. She sighs, long and slow, her body going completely slack against you, safe and sure in the way you love her.
Quinn watches, his heart caught somewhere between aching and overflowing, the kind of fullness that makes his chest feel too small to hold it all. Because this — this quiet, sleepy moment, the two of you curled up together, Bug safe and sound in your arms — it’s everything.
Quinn swallows, stepping further into the room, perching on the armrest of the couch.
“She out?” he murmurs, voice hushed.
You glance up at him, smiling softly, your fingers still stroking through Bug’s curls, lulling her further into sleep.
“Almost.”
Quinn reaches out, his knuckles grazing Bug’s cheek, and she makes a tiny sound — somewhere between a hum and a sigh — before burrowing deeper into your warmth, her little hand still gripping onto your shirt even in sleep, like she never wants to let go.
Quinn feels something tighten in his throat. Because he remembers when she was just a baby, small enough to fit in the crook of one arm, when her cries could only be soothed by your voice, your touch. And now, here she is, still finding her safety, her comfort, her home in you.
And God.
He thought he knew love before. Thought he had felt it in all the ways that mattered.
But this? Watching the way you hold her like you were made for this, made for her? Watching the way she leans into you like she doesn’t even need to think about it? This kind of love? It’s something else entirely. Something that makes him want to reach out, to touch, to hold.
So he does.
His hand drifts, skimming over your arm before curling around the back of your neck, his thumb tracing a slow, grateful line against your skin. He leans in, presses his lips to your temple, lingers there for a moment longer than necessary.
You tilt your head just slightly, leaning into him the way Bug leans into you, and that’s all it takes. That’s all he needs. His family, his girls wrapped up in the kind of love that’s steady and sure and so achingly pure that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve it.
You sigh softly, shifting just enough to look up at him, your features soft in the dim light.
“You okay?” you ask, like you can sense it — how full he feels, how something inside him is stretching, expanding, trying to make room for all the love pressing against his ribs.
Quinn just nods, thumb still brushing lazy circles against your skin.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice quieter than he intends. “I just… I love you.” His gaze flickers down, taking in the way Bug is tucked against your chest. “Both of you.”
Your smile is small, knowing, like you already understood before he even said it. Like the secret language you and Bug share, that unspoken understanding, somehow it extends to him too.
“We love you too,” you murmur back, your free hand reaching for his, fingers threading together, squeezing gently. “So much.”
Quinn leans in again, kissing you slow, deep, the kind of kiss that lingers, and Bug stirs between you, sighing softly. You both pull back, sharing a quiet chuckle, and Quinn shifts, slipping off the armrest to settle beside you properly, his arm curling around both of you.
The three of you sit like that for a while, wrapped up in warmth, in love, in the quiet certainty that there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
Because if there’s one thing Quinn Hughes knows for certain, it’s this:
Bug has the best mom in the world.
And him?
He’s the luckiest man alive.
#bug might be a daddy's girl but even quinn knows when it comes to her mama? he doesn't stand a chance#dad!quinn#capquinn's writing#capquinn’s requests#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader
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Shen Yuan was a beta all his life so then, now, being the omega Shen Qingqiu who can no longer suppress his secondary gender by Without-a-cure, needs to learn to be an Omega.
The information in the books is damn unclear and it would not be right to go ask for help from disciples or brothels, so he just... Well, he knows that Shang Qinghua is a spy for the demons, and he knows that Mobei Jun is an Omega for his meta knowledge. So he decides to go and threaten Shang Qinghua's ass with exposing him with the other Peak Lords for treason unless he allows him to have private meetings with Mobei Jun.
(At some point, they both reveal themselves as transmigrants? Yes. But not at the beginning for more drama lol Shang Qinghua racking his brains over what the hell Shen Qingqiu the scum villain and HIS KING will talk about in private- )
So, in private meetings with Mobei Jun, Shen Qingqiu humiliates himself with a half-truth: he tells him that I had never experienced anything like omega (after all, the entire CQMS thinks Shen Qingqiu is a beta), and now with Without-a-cure he has stopped taking his suppressants because the damage they were doing to his health, so right now he doesn't know how to do omega basic things like nest, purr, scent, pack behavior...
Mobei Jun agrees to teach him all those omega things; in exchange, Shen Qingqiu will give him more information and those things that Shang Qinghua doesn't have access to, since Shen Qingqiu is, well, Peak Lord of the second most important peak. They make a half-hearted and reluctant agreement, but they are on the same page.
And Mobei Jun teaches him. He teaches him how to fix a nest and the different ways he can use it. How apply blankets properly for softness, or comfort, or space, depends on what suits him. Teaches him to scent with the necessary amount of pheromones on people, objects, pack gifts, puppy gifts- It is a different level for each situation, and it is very necessary that it be respected, because otherwise it could give the wrong message!!
It also teaches purring, different growls, the type of reactions these sounds would have in Alphas or other Omegas. Also what kind of fabrics or robes are more comfortable to wear closer to the heat, what herbs to avoid, what kinds of things might not help him, what types of foods to stock up on for those occasions.
There is a lot of monosyllabic talk, a lot of directions and teachings, and Mobei Jun is not really the type to talk a lot, but neither is Shen Qingqiu, so unless necessary, they won't say much that is not so very important. They drink tea (iced) and they always end their secret meetings by scenting their wrists. It's a habit. Mobei Jun's omega scent is clear like ginger-mint and somewhat spicy, but it doesn't smell demonic itself, then it can go unnoticed.
The change in Shen Qingqiu's Omega behavior is noticeable, not only among the now very spoiled puppy disciples, but among the Peak Lords. Mu Qingfang is glad that Shen Qingqiu is finally accepting being part of the pack, scenting them, giving them scented gifts for their own common spaces. Alphas and betas do not necessarily nest, but in their homes they often have things with the aromas of their packs, giving shape to their home.
There is only one notable difference. Mobei Jun, of course, has taught his omega knowledge biased by his demonic family teaching. So, Shen Qingqiu finds himself... biting.
He bites his disciples' cheeks, he bites their little hands when he comes to scent them. It is easier to give them little bites, so they will only laugh or blush.
He bites Liu Qingge's cheek, one day the Alpha gets really close to him sniffing the clear scent of Mobei Jun on him, asking who is. In defense of Shen Qingqiu, he became nervous!!! And Liu Qingge stepped away as if he had been set on fire, walking away like a penguin.
Randomly bites Mu Qingfang's hands when he is checking him out by Without-a-cure, little bites on his fingers, on his knuckles. Mu Qingfang blushes, steps back, and quickly notes down the reactions. Pff. As if it wasn't normal for Omegas to bite and lick their packs!! Now they will tell that Omegas should not court their Alphas by proving they can kill them in a fight only to decide not to! Of course Binghe's harem didn't work like that, but those were female Omegas! He was a male Omega, that would make the difference, wouldn't it?
So, just, Shen Qingqiu is there, gifting his packs with things with his scent, purring when some Alpha around him is stressed, biting hands, wrists, cheeks. He shamelessly sits close to anyone and drenches them with his scent. He's much more tactile with everyone. He makes comfortable public-nesting spaces in gardens where he invites his youngest disciples (and Binghe, because how could he deprive Binghe of those experiences?! The poor boy is always hungry for affection, hugs, pats and bites more than any other disciple) to snuggle with him while purring and playing some music, just as Mobei Jun had explained that Omegas did with their pups so they could relax after long days-
(The other Peak Lords don't know if Shen Qingqiu has gone mad or is trying to court them all. They also don't want to risk asking and ruining whatever's going on.)
(Amidst all this, and instinctively, both Mobei Jun and Shen Qingqiu begin to see and feel like a pack. They give each other scented blankets, their scents are in their respective nests. There are new jewels among Shen Qingqiu's hair accessories, and new necklaces hanging over Mobei Jun's open necklines. They are a pack. Family of some strange and accidentally acquired kind. Even Shen Qingqiu relaxes in Mobei Jun's nest once while waiting for him due to an urgency among the rebellious demons - which almost causes Shang Qinghua to almost have a qi deviation when he sees him, comfortable in his king's nest just reading.)
(At some point, Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu reveal themselves to be transmigrants- and Shang Qinghua is laughing his fucking shit off, because now he has the explanation of everything, and he's definitely not going to tell him that the normal omega mode of demons is the omega-courtship-family mode of humans. Nope. He'll let Cucumber-bro figure it out for himself.)
#svsss#svsss au#svsss ideas#scum villain's self saving system#scumbag self saving system#omegaverse#omegaverse dynamics#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#shen qingqiu#mobei jun#shang qinghua#mu qingfang#liu qingge#luo binghe#luo bunhe#omega shen qingqiu#omega mobei jun#pack dynamics#learning to be omega#by the hand of an omega demon#that definitely comes out as good as it could#there are many nests here because i love nests#now it was mobei jun and shen qingqiu's turn to be platonic#i don't make the rules#shang qinghua will laugh about this for the rest of his life
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Notes- Blabber Mouth; Anemo Men
x gn!Reader
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Recovery date: February 9th, 2025
Description: Anemo version of Blabber Mouth
Notes: CW a few suprise pregnancies I put Wanderer in here, but I personally subscribe to trans-man Wanderer because why would Raiden give him a male body? Also, this series is slowly separating from the original prompt and I feel like I'm just making these kids psychic but shhh, babies
Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo
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Aether
Kids , he likes them but never really thought they were in his future
I mean, he’s always traveling with his sister, it’s not until Teyvat that he kind of settles down
Abyss!Aether or Traveler!Aether, they meet you and staying here doesn’t sound too bad
Your first is an accident, they make the decision for him
Not that he wanted to leave you anyways
Your second is planned, but your first born beats you to tell him
Aether comes back from wherever he was, helping Khaenri’ah, a commission, ruling the Abyssal Khaeri’ans, and your kid tackles him in a hug
Then, without you saying anything, they talk about reading a story to the baby
And you play mock offense thinking they were reading to you and Aether is trying to figure out what baby
You send your kid off to clean up their toys so you can talk
Aether drops to his knees and hugs your waist
Xiao
It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, he just doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want another thing he can’t have
He can’t be around people normally, being around an infant? Bad idea
So, you’d have to be anything but a mortal, someone who can be around him despite his debt
Then, he gives it some thought and he’s still really not sure
It takes many conversations for him to see your side of things
Cries the first time he holds your baby
As your first grows up, he tries to figure out how to broach the subject of having another
You laugh when he finally gets it out, face red, and quickly apologize before saying another sounds nice
Your kid is very defensive, and they try defending you from one of the dogs around Wangshuu inn one day
When you ask what’s wrong, because normally the dogs aren't a problem, your kid says they saw the dog scare a baby the other day
Takes you both a second to figure out how that correlates and then it’s a trip to Baizhu
He cries, the first time it wasn’t real to him until he held the baby but this time it’s real from the start
Venti
You guys start talking about having kids, and he’s not even sure he can have them
Like, he’s a windspirit and sure he’s in human form but how far does that extend
So your first born is a bit of a surprise
But he’s so happy, sings to them all the time while your pregnant
He drinks less too, can’t be drinking at Angel’s share when he’s trying to wrangle the little whirlwind into bed
It’s one such night when your little one runs out of their room and into yours
They curl up with you in your bed, and Venti’s trying to convince them to sleep in their bed
They declare they want to sleep with their sibling
You stop reading/pretending to sleep, confused, and Venti just gives in
They make a good point, how could he pull such a protective big sibling away from their little sibling
Venti’s been around enough to know that children can just tell these things
So he just wraps you all up in his wings and you go to Barbara in the morning
If either of your kids are boys, he’s naming him after the nameless bard
Kazuha
Kids… he wants them, he doesn’t want his family line to end with him
But, it’s not really an option when he’s on the run
Once he returns to Inazuma though, he gives it more serious thought
Spending time in the forge, he sees kids run by a lot and watches their awe as they watch him
He brings it up to you, and you have your first born
We don’t know what his friend’s name is, but your first born is getting named after him
Even if he has to alter it a little bit
He likes to write poetry with your kid, it helps their vocabulary, creativity, and fine motor skills
You two also use it to encourage their self expression
So they express their excitement about the friend in your belly
That poem is getting framed, it makes you both laugh
Heizou
Likes playing with the kids in the city and around Ritou
Hasn’t really considered kids of his own
It’s not until he sees you with the kids that he starts thinking about it
I think your first is an accident, but his excitement even surprises him a bit
Not that he thought he wouldn’t be happy/excited
And your kid takes after their father’s investigative curiosity
So you start acting off and they’re running their own investigation
This one is less of a “little kid sixth sense” and more like “mini detective”
They even get Heizou to join in the investigation
But there’s definitely a bit of weird sibling psychic-ness, your first born predicts baby's gender later on
Everyone’s excited, you first born is already planning investigations to do with them
Extra note, but Heizou definitely takes your infants on easy investigations strapped to his chest in a baby harness
Wanderer
I… don’t think he can have kids, I personally think he was not modeled with the required hardware (fully believe his original model was at least a ken doll and and at most fem)
But, between handling the electro gnosis and being around Dottore, I could see him getting the hardware and systems
I do not think he knows he has these systems, mostly because he’s never tried
So your kid is an accident
And Wanderer has a lot of thoughts but, I think he holds the baby and decides that he can do this
First baby’s name is Niwa
This kid has him wrapped around their finger, and he’s happy with one
And now that you two know he can get you pregnant you two are more careful
Your kid asks for a sibling and he’s not one to deny them if you’re okay with it
They’re also the one to tell you, one day they just press a kiss to your tummy before Wanderer puts them to bed for the night
Tighnari’s in the city, so you check in with him before he leaves
I think Wanderer surprises himself with the love he feels for his kids
#researcher s's notes#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact venti#venti x reader#genshin impact xiao#xiao#xiao x reader#genshin impact kazuha#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha x reader#genshin impact heizou#shikanoin heizou#heizou x reader#genshin impact wanderer#wanderer x reader#genshin impact aether#aether x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#genshin impact headcanons#fluff
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i need part 2 of se-mi with comphet reader 😭
✧₊⁺ speak now (or don't, and love forever in silence)
groom bff! se-mi x comphet! reader
synopsis: after years of waiting, he finally propose. wasn't this everything you wished for?
but you couldn't bring yourself to be happy.
was it maybe because when you thought about it, all you could picture was her face?
content: some angst, but finally fluff!!!!
authors note: im so sorry for the looooong ass late updates, im so so busy but im ab to go on break so everyone cheered!!! im back i promise:( im so excited for this part 2 i actually love it and i hope u do too!!!!
part one. part two (you're here!)
famous actress finally engaged with the famous choi su-bong, more known as 'thanos', old rapper surging back!
we all saw on Instagram the romantic proposal he prepped for her, and of course like every girl would, she said yes!
we are so happy for the married couple!
"fucking bullshit" se-mi threw her phone away with rage after reading the most liked post from the magazine's instagram.
her hands went to her face as she groaned, biting back her lip to keep the tears away.
poor dumb girl. she actually thought you were coming back to her...
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/656e4449d6dd38b77fe0540ecf3a2411/611f36703fca2001-ac/s540x810/df3d7d1f2dcd4cdaeb1905bd4a079b9f267a5d10.jpg)
"the way he proposed was so romantic, i'm glad he did it that way, it was what you always wanted ever since you were a kid" my best friend jun-hee took my hands between hers with a comforting smile. i smiled softly as i sighed.
"y-yeah. it was.." i whispered. she stares into my eyes, squeezing my hands. her expression fell, now filled with pity. she knew me more than anyone.
"you do know that you're supposed to be happy about getting married right?" she says with a lifted eyebrow as i pressed my lips.
"i am." i said, trying to convince myself.
"honey-" she murmurs as i cut her.
"i have to be." i said, turning to face myself in the mirror. streightening my skirt as i faked my best smile.
and it was true. everything was exactly how i always wanted it.
so.. why didn't it felt like it?
i heard a knock that snapped me out of my thoughts. we both turned as the door opened. "excuse me, just wanted to let you know the invitations have been sent" a girl said with a smile as i nodded, thanking her.
once she left, jun-hee stared at me. "did you sent one for.." my best friend said, stopping herself as i shuddered.
"yeah. of course. they're best friends." refering to my husband and se-mi. i put a smile to pretend i didn't cared. or at least i tried, although it didn't even reached my eyes.
if your own best friend stares at you with pity, you start to consider maybe you're not doing as well as you thought.
but i couldn't back up. not now. not ever.
"this belongs in the trash" se-mi says with a sarcastic smirk, grabbing the invitation only to crumble it with anger as min-su stops her.
"we can't just.. not go" he says to her as she stares at him, incredulous.
"do you want me to go to that fucking wedding? for what?" she spits with anger and disbelief, her voice getting louder as he sighs. he got used to seeing his best friend angered ever since the news came out.
"listen, i get it, okay? but it's our best friend's wedding. we can't just miss it" min-su says in a soft tone, trying to make her understand.
"i refuse to watch her get married." her cold voice snaps. "fuck this." she says with a groan, frustration all over her face.
"you need to move on! you know those two! yeah they hate eachother, but they're not breaking up sem. they're getting married, and probably everything that goes after that. are you just gonna avoid thanos until you die?" he says snapping as she furrows her brow, a small pout on her pierced lips without her even noticing it.
"there's nothing to move on, there was never anything between me and her right?" she says with a sigh. "i'm still not going. i fucking hate weddings" she says under her breath, going to her room to avoid the conversation. and something about that doesn't feel true, because she loves to think about you on a wedding dress. but not if it's not with.. she shakes her head to remove the thought, slamming the door. min-su sighs, his hands on his face, exhausted.
"oh god" jun-hee says with tears on her face, her eyes twinkle in awe as i laugh, a little teary.
the dress looks.. perfect. just like in my childhood dream. my perfect dream wedding.
"it was made for you" she says as i chuckle, giving a little spin for her.
i should be so happy...
"yeah.. i think we're done" i say to the girl from the store, who's standing on my side, staring at me with a soft smile. "this is it. this is the one."
i slowly head back to the changing room to remove the dress. i place back my clothes while my assistant goes to pay. i stare at myself in the mirror.
why am i not happy? why doesn't it feel like i'm getting married?
i sigh as i leave the store with my two companions.
"let's grab some coffee, it's right around the corner and im dying for some caffeine." jun-hee says as i nod.
i feel my phone buzzing on my pockets.
oh god, of course. he's always fucking forgetting about the wedding or where i am. god why am i marrying this-
my breath hitches as i grab my phone, reading the text.
this can't be happening.
not now.
oh god.
sem: a wedding?
sem: really?
of course it's her.
of course she texts me out of nowhere a fucking random tuesday at 3 pm.
of course she makes my heart beat on my chest like no one ever did. just for a fucking text.
i scoff in disbelief as my manicured nails type with anger.
me: for real?
me: this is what you're texting me?
me: after not hearing about you for fucking YEARS??????
i see the little bubble that indicates she's typing back. the fact that she hasn't left the chat since she texted me makes me bite my lip.
sem: i've seen the photos
sem: you know
sem: you dont look like someone whos excited to get married
i roll my eyes as i let out a shaky breath, she hit a nerve.
me: what do you know? you havent talked to me in years, maybe things changed.
sem: everything did.
sem: except this.
sem: why do you keep lying to yourself?
i place my phone back in my pocket with shaky hands, leaving her on seen. i place my head on my hands as i groan.
why did she had appear out of nowhere?
i was fine without.. knowing about her.
without thinking about her. without her smile. without knowing if she's seeing someone..
i was okay without her. yeah. i was perfect.
god i really need that coffee.
as i get home i watch my... fiance laying on the couch.
"did you even tried the cake samples i left?" i said with frustration as i leave my purse.
"uh, nam-gyu did, he said the black tea one was really good" he said without too much care as i stared at him disbelief.
"am i getting married to nam-gyu? because i needed MY husband to try them!" i say, standing in front of him, my hands on my hips as he rolled his eyes.
"who the fuck cares about the cake baby? no one does" he says, his arms sneaking around my waist to bring me closer to him.
"i care! i am going to be the wife in this fucking wedding and i care about the cake!" i shout angry. "and don't touch me" i let myself loose of his grip as he groans in built frustration.
"seriously? this again?" he says with a sigh, letting go.
"after the wedding" i say to him as my heart sinks. liar.
"about time" he rolls his eyes, his focus on the phone once again.
i stare at him blinking in disbelief.
this is my life?
am i gonna marry.. this idiot?
i go upstairs as i remove my outside clothes, placing on my pjs. i slowly let myself sink in bed as i grab my phone, my hands trembling as i bite my lip.
was this a good idea? no.
clearly not.
but god, i couldn't stop thinking about her.
me: are you coming?
me: to the wedding
me: i sent you an invitation
it takes her two minutes to reply.
sem: no.
oh. i chew on my bottom lip thinking about what to reply, until she texts back a few minutes later.
sem: why?
do i? do i wanna get marry, knowing she's there, staring at me?
the question is.. will i get married, knowing she's there, sitting on the crowd, watching me?
me: i want you there
the texting bubbles appear and disappear for over 10 minutes, making me extremely anxious as i wait for her reply.
sem: okay
okay what? okay that i want her there although i shouldn't? okay that-
sem: i'll see you there.
sem: consider this as my confirmation to the wedding.
i throw my phone away with shaky hands. my head sinks on my pillow, muffling my scream.
god, what have i done?
finally, today is the day.
today, i'm getting married.
the happiest day in my life. that's what everyone is saying.
so why i've been crying non stop until falling asleep?
i stared at myself, sat in front of my mirror. my makeup perfectly done, my hair loose in soft waves, the dress made just for me. it had to be like this, because this was what everyone expected from me.
i sighed as i stood up, leaving the room to go wait on the door for my entrance. i could hear the bells ringing, the wedding music. my dad appears, walking slowly until he was standing besides with a smile.
"i'm proud of you" he said, staring at front as i did too, my eyes teary. but it wasn't happiness, it was...
"everything is like it's supposed to be" i said, streightening myself. my head turned to stare at him. "am i finally the perfect daughter?" i asked my dad, my voice trembling with emotion.
he gave me a confused stare, a hint of what it looked like sadness, creeping into his stare. "it's not the wedding, it's clearly not the husband" he said as we both softly chuckled. "it's you.. you're my daughter. and i don't need you to be perfect, you being you it's all i want. your happiness. honey, nothing else matters after that." he said as i holded my tears. i bit the inside of my cheek, my heart pounding on my chest.
it's too late now, isn't it?
i could feel him interlock our arms as the doors opened. we moved one step at a time as we slowly entered the ceremony. to my wedding.
i shudder at the sight of everyone in the room, but i knew my eyes were only scanning to look for one person.
and when i found her, and my heart stopped.
she was watching me with a soft gaze, eyes almost twinkling as she roamed through my form, slowly taking my face, my body in the dress, and lastly, going up to meet my eyes. all i needed to make my heart flutter. i felt frozen in place, i could see everyone staring at me, wondering why i wasn't moving. my dad pulled my arm to get me out of my trance, but nothing worked.
i was there, stucked right where she left me.
on the last time i saw her. the last time my heart beated for her.
"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy.. with me.. i'll be waiting. i promise"
she was just as beautiful as i remembered her. of course i've seen pictures of her, but nothing like seeing her in person again.
our stare never breaking.
her eyes screamed 'please, love me'
and mine replied 'i do. but i shouldn't'
"are you okay?" my dad said, breaking the staring contest as i took reality of my surroundings. i shakily let out a small breath as i nodded with a fake smile. i kept walking to the altar, where i saw my... future husband.
right.
as i took my place, he took my hands in between his.
i trembled, and i swear i wanted to hear whatever the priest was saying. i really did.
but all my focus was on her.
was everyone blind for not noticing? or was everyone trying to pretend they couldn't tell how i stared at my husband's best friend?
when our eyes met again, i averted my gaze, trying really hard to pay attention to the priest talking on the altar to me and my future husband.
but god, i could not focus when she was here.
until i heard the priest coming to the end of his speech.
"if anyone has just cause to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace"
silence spreaded on the ceremony.
the quietness in the room making me shiver.
until it wasn't quiet anymore.
because everyone gasped.
and my eyes shut close.
and the quietness was replaced with whispers, with judging stares.
it wasn't quiet anymore, because she stood up.
my heart felt like it stopped in place. i could see my fiance's eyes widen, staring at se-mi like she was mad, insane.
but i knew she wasn't.
she was just in love, like i was.
and god, not from my husband.
her tall figure stood in the public, standing up as her mouth agaped like a fish. she tried to find any words to say, but she couldn't.
min-su and nam-gyu besides her, staring like if she grew a second head, completely shocked.
my eyes widen as i saw her take a sit again.
her mind was conflicted. i could tell. does she oppose? does she love quietly? what was more important? her best friend or her feelings? she shifted uncomfortably on her chair.
what was done was done, right?
fuck it. she thought, standing up once again.
everyone stared, their eyes open like never before.
"i-i oppose" she says in a weak, trembling voice. her eyes find mine, her stare pleads me to not let this keep going.
it begs me to go with her.
her hand moves to try and reach me as i watch her trembling hand and her pleading expression.
"i love you." she says with tears on her eyes.
and of course i knew this couldn't happen. of course i knew this was madness. i was about to get married. my life was buildt for this specific moment.
but my heart responded first with a sigh. not tears, not a scream, not a mad reply.
a sigh of relief.
i stare at the people sitting shocked in their seats. their gazes gravitating from her, to me and choi su-bong.
and suddenly, it's not like before. i'm not frozen in place, i'm not scared. i don't feel ashamed, i don't feel a thing.
except relief and love.
my last sign? when i stare at my parents, and they dont look at me ashamed. they're not embarrassed. they nod at me with tears in their eyes, intertwining their hands.
i get off the altar as i laugh.
a laugh of happiness. i chuckle loud and the feeling takes my entire body as i walk to her slowly. our stare never breaking as i stand in front of her, in my beautiful white dress. i reach to take her hand, the contact leaves a warm feeling on my heart.
"can we go?" are the only words that leave my lips with a shaky breath.
she stares at me, letting out an airy soft chuckle in disbelief, not believing this is happening.
"fuck, yes." is all she mutters as she moves in between the people, intertwining our hands like she never plans to release me as we run to the exit, our hearts jump in our chest.
and this is insane. i know it when we get into her rusty old car while the people gather outside to stare at us. but it doesn't matter.
it doesn't matter when my dress ruffles through the window, it doesn't matter when i buckle my seat belt with a happy smile and it certainly doesn't matter when she actually starts driving and we laugh, like a whole hearted laugh.
"you left your husband. in the altar. you left him" she says chuckling, filled with emotions. shock, disbelief, happiness.
"i- i did. and i don't regret it. god i don't regret leaving him for his.. best friend" i laugh as i stare at her. i take a deep breath as i speak "stop the car" she stops so abruptly, the car brakes.
"are you regr-" i unbuckle my seat belt as i turn aside. i cup her face in between my hands, my eyes roaming across her entire features.
this is the woman i love. it feels so good to finally say it out loud.
and i kiss her.
and is everything i always wanted to feel. it's what i expected from every single one of my ex-boyfriends. is filled with hunger, desire, passion and love.
and my heart feels warm and i know now exactly what love was supposed to feel like.
the kiss lowers to something softer, one of her hands goes to my cheek, caressing it with her thumb as my hand moves to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. her other hand roams through my body to grip my waist.
"this feels like a dream" she mumbles in between kisses.
"i know, i know" i replied as i kissed her again and again, love-drunk. "but it's not. i'm yours se-mi. i'm completely yours" i whispered against her lips as she nodded excited. her nose softly caressing mine, an intimate gesture.
"can i start the car and get the fuck out of here, please? because i never want to look back" she says breaking the kiss. i nod happily.
"please, start the fucking car" i chuckle as i go back to my seat, connecting to the bluetooth of her car, i look at the playlist on my phone until i find the one.
"i am not the kind of girl
who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion
but you are not the kind of boy
who should be marrying the wrong girl"
she smacks me softly as she listens to the lyrics, rolling her eyes as i snort.
and as my eyes find hers, i know i finally am where i belong.
known actress leaves husband on the altar!
we saw our famous girl, that we all know and love, leaving rapper ''thanos' on the altar.
the last thing we heard from him to the press was: i hope she's happy now.
and she looks like it! because she's been sharing photos on social media with her new girl non stop!
let's wish a happy relationship to the recently out of the closet actress!
#se mi x reader#player 380 x reader#se-mi x reader#player 380#se mi#se-mi#squid game#squid game 2#lesbian#se mi squid game#wlw#squid games#squid games fluff#won ji an#won ji an x reader#angst with a happy ending
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🔎Scam Exam(ination)🔍(updated x/x/xx)
Seen as: Selling HRT / Testosterone Scam Type: Fake Product / Fraud
Platform: Tumblr
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This scam mostly targets LGBTQ+ individuals, mainly Trans folk who post in such related tags.
Those who do may receive a DM, comment, ask, or any such related contact from another tumblr user who claims to be a certified™ Doctor, Therapist, Pharmacist, ect, who is trying to offer you a 'new and amazing' drug that's not on the market, or a 'cheap alternative medicine' to name brand HRT or Testosterone.
One such account that popped up recently of this is drfelixortega.
Here is what their tumblr page looks like:
And this is the ask that they are sending users:
(Screenshot taken from this post.)
If you visit their page, you will only find six posts.
All very generic in nature.
None of which link to any sort of certification or credentials that prove that this person is a 'real' doctor. They just say they are a totally real (no fake) Doctor and expect people to go with it.
Like most scammers usually to do.
Here's another version of where another HRT scammer leaves comments on peoples posts:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/57c4ee9609ee657739c29492fc616aac/a62ec1ffe00e8046-9d/s540x810/3b93059728d7c7414b068362dd919cb54e999d82.jpg)
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Why this is a scam:
1 - The risk.
Purchasing any sort of drug online from a shady dealer is not only a good way to get scammed, it's a good way to get sick and possibly even die. You have no idea what sort of ingredients are in the pills these supposed Doctors online are trying to sell you.
There was a story that surfaced on my local news station that talked about how in South Korea, capsules were seized that contained the contents of herbs and a mixture of human flesh/DNA.
When tested, the human material was found to belong to infants.
If you wish to read more, you can find the 2015 article here. But be warned, it is very graphic. (No pictures)
2 - The scam.
I know that getting HRT or even Testosterone can be hard, and I know how the struggle and the desire to truly be yourself can become overwhelming. Your insurance may not pay for it, or you might not even have insurance to begin with, leaving without hope at all in your journey to begin transitioning.
But that still doesn't mean you should believe every offer that seems too good to be true the moment you're offered it online.
Think about these things for a second:
Why would a doctor, surgeon, pharmacist, what have you, be on Tumblr of all places? Why would they browse the trans tag, or other such related tags, to find potential 'clients?' Don't you usually have to make an appointment with a doctor? For your insurance to then pay for to cover your medicine? How can a board certified pharmacist.. be a gender assessment surgeon at the same time? (it's a lie, that's why.)
3 - The truth.
The truth of the matter is, you cannot, unfortunately, get HRT or Testosterone without a Prescription.
And buying it online from any sort of 3rd party website or manufacturer is simply putting not only your wallet at risk, but your life at risk.
Here is a screenshot taken from this GoodRX article:
Here is an article on the risks and dangers of buying unregulated / unlicensed HRT. One big one being that they can be contaminated.
And a final, general consensus from google:
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Final Thoughts:
As I've said in a few of my past scam Exam(inations), if something seems too good to be true, it most likely is. I know how life changing something can be and how desperate wanting it can make you, but please don't risk your wallet, or your life, for it.
Remember: These are just words these people offer you.
Ask for proof. If they send you any kind of images, remember, you can reverse image search them to try and find the source. If you get pushy in asking for their credentials they'll probably end up blocking you and just want you to 'trust them' or send you clearly edited photoshops.
Never give them your personal information or credit card information.
And never go to a strange website you don't know or have never heard of without googling it first.
You can also run it through something like VirusTotal to check if any of the big/main websites like Bitdefender or Kaspersky that detect things like phishing, viruses/trojans/maware, and all that fun stuff, have picked up on it being malicious.
Just... Be safe.
Please make sure you think before you talk to people like this.
Take care everyone. <3
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Disclaimer: Tags are relevant to the content of this post. This is not 'tag spam' or 'unrelated'. I'm just spreading awareness about this scam targeting people taking hormone drugs like HRT which also includes people other than just trans folk. :)
#scam#scams#scam alert#scammer#scammers#scam awareness#HRT scam#hrt#transition#top surgery#transman#ftm#estrogen#hormones#LGBT#transgender#trans#testosterone#mtf#transwoman#queer#LGBTQIA#nonbinary#genderfluid#trans nonbinary#enby#drfelixortega
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All righty, here we go, diving into more of the angsty love triangle!! *rubs hands together* 😈
However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.
Oooh my God, poor Dean. 🫣 This is literally torture for him! lol
When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you.
I had a feeling this was why he insisted on her living in the room next to his, our big protective man, but now it's coming back to bite him in the ass. 💀
He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.
He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.
Sobbbiiiiiingggg -- oh Dean. 😭😭
It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.
God Dean! You can only bury your emotions under assholery and anger for so long. He can hate the fact that she's a hunter and want more for her, but he has to accept that it's her choice, and he can support her and be honest with her rather than succumbing to his assholery. 🥲🥲
But of course, his "I'm not worthy" mentality crops up as well. 🙃 Makes you want to throttle him (if in more than one way lmao)!!
The thought that he was suffering so much while trying to find her when she was in another world is also heartbreakingly on-brand for him. He'd so be tearing through every piece of lore and resource to try and get her back. 😭
"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother. Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.
💀💀💀 Come on now, Dean, don't be petty. 🤣
"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted." But I do want her.
TELL HIM, SAM. SHAKE HIM UNTIL HIS GREEN EYES ROLL INTO HIS HEAD -- make him see how he's acting!! lol
Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.
Gahhh pain. so very pain, even though it hurts so good. 😭😭😭
Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.
"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."
Omggg finally!! Finally Dean's being honest about how he feels without being a dick about it. 😪
But he didn't, he never did. And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.
Ughhh such soul-rendering description, and the spice here is oh so delicious. ❤️🔥❤️🔥
But I have to point out that the reading is having a DAY loll. Two beefcakes in one night?? 😏
(Also, I'm afraid of how Ben is gonna take this. 😬)
"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."
Oh sure, pretend she meant nothing to you to spare your deep-down man feelings. 🙄
"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.
LMAOO Ben vs. Technology -- I think we all know who's winning. 🤣
And Ben secretly liking therapy just so he just has someone to vent to for an hour? Be still my heart, honestly. 😭
The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield. He thought it was cute.
OMGGGGG I'M WEEAAAAK -- and he's already clocking IT girl's cuteness, I'm dead. 😂💞 The way he's already starting to like her better? I see what you did there. 😉
"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.
ahaha you charmer, you. 😂 A swoon-worthy line, even if we do know how sleazy this man can be lol. She really has no idea what she's getting into with this guy, but I love to imagine that with this nicely wrapped up ending! 💕💕
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2b232ecb639225453d08349e5a8905a4/af1c2108b8b85cfb-59/s540x810/36c2b8007898ad3c5985652bc2546732cc10b00e.jpg)
Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader
POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV
Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.
Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover
Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)
Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person
A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Dean POV
Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.
Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.
And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.
Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.
When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.
Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.
Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.
Not some asshole from another universe.
The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.
He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.
The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.
Fuck.
His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.
Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.
It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.
Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.
He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.
He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.
Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.
He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.
He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.
That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.
Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.
The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.
Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.
It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.
However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.
But then Ben had shown up.
When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.
But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.
Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.
All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.
Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.
The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"
Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?
Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.
Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.
"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.
Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.
Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"
"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white. He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."
Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.
"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.
"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.
"I'm kinda what?"
"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"
Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she hasn't made up her mind."
"But why?"
"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"
Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"
"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.
He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.
"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.
"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"
At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."
"I think it does."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."
"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.
"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."
But I do want her.
The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.
"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.
Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"
"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.
Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."
"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.
"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.
"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.
Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"
"Just leave me alone Sammy."
And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.
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Reader POV
Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.
It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.
You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.
It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.
I have nothing to be guilty about.
You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.
Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.
Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-
You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.
You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.
In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.
No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-
The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.
Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.
But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.
Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.
You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.
Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.
Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.
Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.
Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.
Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.
At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.
Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.
Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?
The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.
It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.
You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.
You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.
But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.
You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.
Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.
Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.
You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.
Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.
You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.
The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.
What the hell is wrong with me?
When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.
But what?
He turns when he hears you walk in.
You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.
"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.
"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.
"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"
"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."
You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.
Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-
"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.
"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.
"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"
"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."
Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?
The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.
You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."
You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.
Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"
"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.
Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.
"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."
"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."
Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"
You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.
But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.
Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-
"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"
"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"
"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.
"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"
"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."
Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.
The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.
If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?
You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.
Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!
You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.
"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe."
Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"
"No I-"
"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.
"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.
"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.
Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!
"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.
"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."
"But-"
"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"
His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.
Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?
"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.
You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.
"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.
"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?
Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”
"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”
You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.
“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”
Is he out of his MIND?!
"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.
"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together
"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"
You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.
"This is different!" He fumes.
"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"
Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?
You didn't think that you did.
Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.
"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight. "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"
You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."
"I compliment you." He huffs back.
"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"
Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."
"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."
"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."
"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"
"That's not what I-"
"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.
His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.
You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.
“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”
Why is it a big deal?
“It just is!"
"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.
"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”
“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.
Who does he think he is? We're not together.
“That’s not what this is about-“
“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”
"It is my business!"
"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"
"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.
A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.
"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”
“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”
“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"
“I’m not trying to!”
“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"
The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.
Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.
Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?
Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.
But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.
"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.
"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.
"Thought what?"
"That you wanted me to-"
"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.
"Well-"
"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."
Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"
"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."
"That's not what I'm doing!"
"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.
Dean pauses. "What?"
"Why after years of you hating me-"
"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.
"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.
It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.
"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"
"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"
"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"
You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.
Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?
"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.
Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.
Holy shit.
"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."
The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.
The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.
You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.
He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.
"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.
"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.
The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-
Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.
“What are you-“
“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.
His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.
You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.
You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.
But he didn't, he never did. And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.
Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.
Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.
"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"
Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."
"Then why?"
He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."
"I'm okay."
"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"
"This?"
"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.
"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.
"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."
You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"
There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.
"No.”
“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”
“No. But-"
You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."
Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"
"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"
His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."
Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.
"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.
You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."
"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.
"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.
"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.
Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.
Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.
"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.
"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone. "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."
"But-" You try to say again.
Oh this is so awkward.
"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."
Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.
Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.
Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."
The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.
"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does. It only makes Ben smirk wider.
Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.
"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."
"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."
"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."
Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."
"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.
The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.
The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.
But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.
Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."
Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.
Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."
"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”
Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.
And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.
"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.
Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"
"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.
"Just something come on-"
"But why-"
"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.
Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"
Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.
You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"
"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.
"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."
"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.
Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.
"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.
"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.
"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.
Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.
"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."
Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."
"Anything that I can do to convince you?"
"I can think of a few things…"
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Ben/Soldier Boy POV
"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.
It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.
He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.
Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.
He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.
Fuck.
He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.
And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.
But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.
Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email
When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.
I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!
Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.
And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.
Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.
Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.
Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.
"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.
The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.
Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.
It wouldn't be the first time.
"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.
"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.
"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."
"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.
He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.
The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.
"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.
Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.
"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.
Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.
"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.
"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.
Because the person standing next to his desk was you.
This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."
But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.
The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.
He thought it was cute.
As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.
It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.
"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"
"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.
"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."
Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."
You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.
Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.
"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"
"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.
Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.
Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.
"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."
"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.
He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.
"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.
"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.
It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.
"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."
He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.
"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.
And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.
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A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗
Reveal of the Poll:
🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.
💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.
Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣
Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!
Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies
@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg
@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78
@mochminnie @peachhiz
@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed
@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99
@chriszgirl92
@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug
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@funkenniffler
#why is it a big deal?#supernatural#spn#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#dean winchester#jensen ackles#sam winchester#dean x you#dean x reader#supernatural fanfiction#It's Not A Big Deal#lovely mutuals#zepskies reads
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cw. fluff, smut, worshipping, caleb is head over heels for you, he calls you pipsqueak during it, use of toys, bondage, unprotected sex, edging, fingering, caleb admits to being a perv at some point
the night was quiet, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of the sheets as you shifted closer to caleb. the warmth of his body enveloped you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back a soothing rhythm. his arm was draped over your waist, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles against your skin, as if he needed to remind himself that you were real.
“you’re still awake,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper against your ear. it wasn’t a question—he knew you too well, could tell by the way your breathing hadn’t evened out yet.
you hummed in response, shifting so that you could turn and face him. in the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, you could just barely make out the softness in his expression, the way his gaze lingered on you as if you were the most precious thing in the universe.
his fingers brushed against your cheek, featherlight. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice full of something tender, something reverent. “do you know that?”
you felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a slow and steady burn that settled deep in your chest. “you always say that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.
“because it’s always true,” caleb countered, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles before he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “every time i look at you, it’s like i fall in love all over again.”
your breath hitched slightly at his words, at the way his voice dipped lower, softer, meant only for you. he had always been protective, always intense in the way he loved, but moments like these—where his entire world seemed to narrow down to just you—left you feeling weightless.
his hand slid down, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. “i love the way you fit against me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along your temple. “like you were made just for me.”
you shivered, not from the cold, but from the way his voice wrapped around you, warm and intimate. you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. he smelled like home—like something safe, something constant.
caleb let out a quiet hum of contentment, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing along the bare skin of your spine. “i could stay like this forever,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “just holding you… feeling you against me.”
your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed closer. “me too.”
he smiled against your hair, his breath warm as he whispered, “i love the way you say that.”
you pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, a teasing glint in your eyes. “say what?”
“me too,” he repeated, his thumb stroking lazy circles against your skin. “like you mean it.” his eyes softened, his expression turning impossibly tender. “like i’m your home, the way you are mine.”
your heart clenched at his words, at the sheer devotion in them. you reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw before guiding him closer, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. he sighed against you, his grip tightening as if he never wanted to let go.
when you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers threading through your hair. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “more than anything. more than the planes in the sky, more than the air in my lungs.” he let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “god, i love you so much it terrifies me. every time i remember the things i would sacrifice for you, i get scared."
you felt a lump form in your throat at the raw honesty in his voice, the way he bared his soul to you without hesitation. “caleb…”
he shook his head, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “i don’t think you understand what you do to me,” he murmured. “how you make everything feel right, even when the world is a mess. i don’t care where we are, what happens, as long as i have you.”
your fingers tightened around his shirt, your chest aching with how much love you felt for him in that moment. “you have me,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “always.”
his breath hitched, and for a second, he just held you there, his grip unrelenting, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “you promise?”
you reached up, cupping his face between your hands. “i swear it.”
caleb exhaled, something in him finally settling, and then he was kissing you again—slow and deep, like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. his hands traced your sides, his touch reverent, worshipful.
“i love every part of you,” he whispered against your lips. “the way you smile at me when you think i’m not looking. the way your nose scrunches up when you’re focused. the way you sigh my name when you’re falling asleep.” his voice dropped even lower, barely audible. “the way you let me love you.”
your eyes burned with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his affection. “caleb…"
he shook his head again, silencing you with another kiss. “you don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “just let me hold you.”
you nodded, burying yourself against him, and he tightened his arms around you, pressing soft kisses along your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “i’ll never stop loving you,” he whispered. “never.”
the words settled deep in your heart, filling every space with warmth. and as you lay there, wrapped in caleb’s arms, his voice a constant murmur of love and devotion, you realized that no matter what happened, no matter where life took you, you would always be safe here—in the quiet of the night, in the strength of his embrace, in the love that bound you together.
caleb’s hands moved slowly, reverently, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. his fingers traced the curve of your back, his touch featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine. the warmth of his palm pressed against your skin, grounding you, making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.
“you’re so soft,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple before trailing down to your cheek, then lower, grazing the edge of your jaw. “so perfect.”
your breath hitched as he tilted your chin up, his fingers tracing the line of your throat. his touch wasn’t hurried—it was deliberate, lingering, as if he wanted to savor every second.
you sighed as he pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “caleb…”
he hummed in response, his lips curving into a small smile. “i love the way you say my name,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. “like it belongs to you.”
his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, pulling it from your body. “it does,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.
his eyes darkened, something tender and intense flickering in them as he gazed at your naked torso. “yeah,” he agreed softly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “it does.”
he suddenly made you lay on your back, his position shifting to stay on top of you. hands moving to your waist, his fingers splaying out against your skin as he pulled you even closer, your bodies perfectly aligned. his touch was gentle but firm, like he wanted to hold you there forever.
the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world. he tasted like warmth, like safety, like home. every brush of his lips, every soft sigh that escaped between you, felt like a silent promise—one of love, devotion, and unwavering need.
when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your back, his touch both soothing and electric. “i never want to stop touching you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
you smiled, your fingers threading through his hair, relishing the way he leaned into your touch. “then don’t.”
his breath hitched at your words, and in the next moment, he was kissing down your neck, his hands roaming your sides, holding you like you were something fragile and precious. but there was a hunger in the way he moved, a deep, aching need to be as close to you as possible and claim you as his.
“you have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. “how much i need you."
you let out a breathless laugh, your heart racing. “then show me.”
a soft, reverent groan escaped him as he pulled you even closer, his lips trailing down your collarbone, pressing slow, lingering kisses to every inch of skin he could reach.
“i plan to,” he whispered, his voice full of love, devotion, and something deeper—something that made your heart stutter and your body melt into his.
the night stretched on, filled with soft whispers, gentle touches, and endless love, as caleb made good on his promise—to hold you, to cherish you, to love you in
"relax, pipsqueak," caleb's deep voice resonated, his sulky tone adding a touch of exotic charm. his breathing sent a shiver down you spine, and you found yourself nodding, eager to surrender to his expertise.
caleb sat up, his long legs brushing against your bare thighs. you felt the warmth of his skin, and a rush of excitement coursed through your veins. his strong hands rested on your knees, and he gently caressed your skin, his touch sending sparks of pleasure up your legs. "tell me, do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes holding yours in a captivating gaze.
"yes," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "i trust you, caleb."
a slight smile played on caleb's lips, and you swore you could see the way his gaze changed. he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "good. i'm going to make you feel like the luckiest woman alive, baby." with that, he stood up, his movements graceful yet commanding. he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on, noticing the way you cringed at the sensitivity in your eyes.
you could just make out caleb's silhouette as he moved towards the dresser. he opened a drawer and retrieved a small black bag, the contents of which clinked softly as he placed it on the bed.
"you'll let me use this to make you feel good, right?" he questioned, his voice a soothing murmur in the darkness. "first, i want you to relax and let go of any inhibitions." he guided you to lie back on the pillows, his hands gently urging you into a comfortable position.
obeying his instructions, you allowed you body to melt into the soft mattress. caleb's lips traced your collarbone once again, sending shivers down your neck. his touch was firm yet gentle, and you felt yourself surrendering to his will. "breathe deeply," he instructed, his warm breath caressing your cheek. "in and out, just like that..."
caleb's hands moved down your body, his fingers, stopping just where he stared at. he felt his entire body warm, and immediately pulled his shirt off to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, revealing his muscular build.
his hands moved to your breasts, and his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you. his fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching them gently, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan.
"that's it— fuck..., you sound so good," caleb whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "let the pleasure consume you." with that, he moved his hands lower, his fingers deftly grabbing the hem of your shorts and sliding down. you lifted your hips to aid his efforts, eager for his touch.
the cool air caressed your bare skin as caleb slowly slid your underwear down your legs, his hands brushing against your inner thighs. his breathing hitched. he'd seen you naked like this many times before, but every time it happens he genuinely thinks he's fainting. "my beautiful princess..."
you felt your wetness, a testament to your growing desire. caleb's fingers trailed along your sensitive skin, making you squirm with anticipation.
"you're so responsive," he murmured, his voice filled with approval. "i can see you're ready for more." he positioned himself between your legs, his knees pressing against your outer thighs. you felt the heat of his body, and your core throbbed with need.
caleb's hands explored you intimately, his fingers stroking your wetness, spreading your essence along your folds. "you're so wet, so ready," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "are you that desperate for me? want me to show you all my love?" he teased your clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure through your body.
as he continued to stimulate you, your breath became shallow, your moans filling the room. caleb's fingers worked their magic, bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. just as you were about to climax, he withdrew his touch, leaving you teetering on the precipice of pleasure.
"not yet, beautiful. i'm sorry," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "i'm going to draw this out, make it last." he reached into his bag and retrieved a small, sleek vibrator. "this will help us... is that okay, princess?"
as soon as you nodded, caleb positioned the vibrator against your clit, and as he turned it on, a low hum filled the room. the vibrations sent shocks of pleasure through your body, and you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. caleb cursed as he held the toy firmly, controlling the intensity, ensuring you didn't find release too soon.
"she likes that, doesn't she?" he asked, talking about your squelching pussy, his voice a low growl. "everything about her... it's so perfect. she's so desperate like this. my girls." he adjusted the vibrator, moving it lower, pressing it against your entrance. slowly, he eased it inside you, filling you with a delightful sensation.
the vibrator pulsed within your insides, and caleb's fingers worked in tandem, massaging your clit as the toy stimulated you from within. your body trembled, and your moans grew louder, echoing off the bedroom walls. caleb's control was slipping, and his hand seemed to start shaking exactly when he was to push you to the brink without letting you fall.
"please... let me come," you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes, your voice hoarse and desperate.
"pipsqueak, fuck... don't do that," he whispered, his own need aching between his legs as he sucked in a heavy breath against your ear. "i want you to beg for it. show me how much you want it."
caleb's words sent a surge of desire through you, and you arched you back, pleading for release. he increased the intensity of the vibrator, and your body shook with the effort of holding back your awaited orgasm. "please, caleb, please let me..."
"keep going, my love," he insisted, his voice firm yet laced with desire. "you're doing so great, pretty girl..."
"please, caleb, i beg you..." you whispered, your voice raw with need.
caleb's control seemed to falter at the sound of his name on your lips. still, he withdrew the vibrator, and you whimpered in protest. but he wasn't done yet. he reached into his bag once more, this time retrieving a pair of soft silk restraints.
"trust me," he whispered, securing your wrists gently to the bedposts. "i need to see you tied up for me, pipsqueak."
caleb's eyes gleamed with a mixture of protection and desire as he stood over you, his body a powerful presence in the dim light. he resumed his position between your legs, his fingers replacing the vibrator, stroking your wetness, and bringing you back to the brink of ecstasy.
"now, my love, let go," he commanded, his voice a deep, commanding rumble. "let her pleasure consume you."
his words were like a spell, and as he worked his magic, your body exploded in a cascade of sensations. you cried out, the orgasm ripping through you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over your cunt. caleb's fingers continued their relentless assault, drawing out your climax, making it last, ensuring you experienced every exquisite moment.
as your body trembled and your cries filled the room, caleb leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. he then tasted her release, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of her orgasm. you clung to him, your wrists straining against the restraints, as your body continued to convulse in aftershocks.
finally, as your orgasm subsided, caleb released your wrists, his hands moving to caress your face. "my baby, my love," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with a promise of more. "you did so good for me, my angel. you deserve a reward."
and you, breathless and sated, could only nod, your body still buzzing with the intensity of the experience.
he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you completely. caleb’s hands continued their exploration, sliding lower and lower until he cupped your ass, squeezing the firm flesh roughly.
breaking the kiss, caleb spun you around and forced your head down into the pillows, pushing your ass up by grabbing your waist. “i've wanted to do this since the moment i came back home,” he rasped, running a hand over the smooth expanse of your backside. “got a boner just from staring at your back while you baked like a damn teenager."
you whimpered, your body aching with need. “please, caleb. i need you.”
caleb pulled down his sweatpants and stroked his hard, throbbing cock through the fabric of his undergarments.
"remember when i told you i went showering?" he sighed, throwing his head back as he got rid of his last piece of clothing. he made eye contact with you through his entire speech, as if confessing his sins. "lied through my teeth. had to bust one out real quick, otherwise i'd just take you there. insane."
"that's how much i love you, baby," he rubbed the tip against your slick entrance, teasing her mercilessly. “so beg for me, pips. beg me to fuck you. again.”
“please, caleb,” you pleaded, your voice breathy with desire. “fuck me. make me yours.”
with a growl of satisfaction, caleb opened the bag to remove the largest sized condom he could find. tearing it open with his teeth, he slid it down his shaft, something in his gaze changing.
he leaned forward and slammed into you, burying himself deep inside your tight heat. you cried out, walls contracting around him as he began to move, setting a hard, fast pace. the bed creaked beneath you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.
“fuck, love,” caleb groaned, his fingers digging into the sheets as he pounded into your pussy. “you feel so fucking good. so tight and wet and perfect.”
you could only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of caleb's cock filling you, stretching you, claiming her. you arched your back against the bed, meeting his thrusts with your own, desperate for more, for everything he could give you.
caleb reached around to rub your clit, his fingers circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. “come for me, pipsqueak,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “come all over my cock.”
your body tightened, another orgasm building with each thrust, each touch “yes, caleb,” you gasped, your head falling backwards as you teetered on the edge. “i'm going to come. i'm going to come so hard.”
“fuck, yes,” caleb growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “come for me, baby. now.”
with a scream of ecstasy, you came, your body convulsing around caleb's cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. caleb followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside your hole as he spilled his hot seed.
you collapsed onto the bed, caleb's body covering yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. after a moment, caleb pulled out, his cock slipping free of your still-quivering pussy. he slowly lowered your thighs, massaging any area of your body that had been under too much pressure and kissing you deeply.
“that was incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “i love you, baby. love you so much.”
you smiled, eyes shining with satisfaction. “i had no idea you were such a passionate man.”
caleb chuckled, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “i try my best to keep my emotions away, but with you, i find that impossible. you bring out a side of me i never knew existed.”
you reached up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw. “i like this side of you, love. the side that’s not afraid to take what he wants, to claim what’s his.”
caleb's eyes darkened with desire, his cock already hardening again at your words. “is that so? and what if i told you i want to claim you again, right here, right now?”
your breath hitched, body already responding to his words, to the promise in his eyes. “then i would say that i'm yours, caleb. yours to take, yours to claim, yours to fuck until neither of us can move.”
caleb growled as he took off the previous condom, tying it before throwing it somewhere. his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he lifted your hips to meet his. “my good girl,” he rasped, spreading her thighs wide.
“because i'm going to fuck you again, and again, and again, until you’re screaming my name and begging me to stop.”
you moaned, your head falling back as caleb's fingers found your clit, stroking the sensitive nub with expert precision
“yes, caleb,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “fuck me. make me yours again and again.”
caleb didn’t need to be told twice. he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with need. he didn't care about a condom this time, and straight up slammed into her, filling you completely. you cried out, walls tightening around him as he began to move, setting a punishing pace that had the bed shaking beneath them.
“fuck,” caleb groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “you're so fucking tight. so perfect. i could fuck you forever.”
“then do it,” you panted, nails digging into the pillows as you urged him on. “fuck me forever, love. make me yours for eternity.”
caleb growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, deeper. he could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. “i'm going to come, baby,” he warned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “i'm going to fill you up, mark you as mine.”
“please, caleb,” you begged, body trembling beneath him. “come inside me. give me everything you have.”
with a roar of pleasure, caleb came, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her. you followed him over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you milked him for every last drop.
your collapsed together on the desk again, caleb's body covering yours as you both struggled to catch their breath. after a moment, caleb lifted his head, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
“that was incredible,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “you're incredible.”
you smiled, hand coming up to cup his cheek. “i could say the same about you, caleb. i never knew sex could be so intense, so all-consuming.”
caleb chuckled, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. “it's not just the sex, pipsqueak. it's you. you bring out something in me that i never knew existed. something i never knew i needed.”
your heart swelled with emotion, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “i feel the same way, caleb. i never thought i could feel this way about anyone, but with you, it’s different. it’s special.”
caleb's eyes softened, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “you're so beautiful, you're so mine. and this is real. you're real. and i'm not going to let you go.”
your heart soared, a laugh bubbling up from your throat. “i don’t want you to let me go, caleb. i want to be with you, always. no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us.”
caleb smiled, his eyes shining with love and happiness. “i love you, baby. love you so damn much.”
you kissed him then, pouring all of your love, all of your devotion into the kiss. caleb responded in kind, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.
you stayed like that for a long moment, lost in each other, in the love and passion that had blossomed between you.
#l&ds caleb#love and deepspace caleb x reader#caleb fluff#lnds caleb#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x reader#caleb#caleb smut#caleb x reader smut#smut#love and deepspace#l&ds x reader#l&ds fluff#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds#lads#lads fluff#lads x reader#lads mc
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A while ago you liked a comment of mine on TikTok where I said that there should be no second Batman bc having Bruce retire/die means his fight should be over and he should be able to rest properly, (idk if that’s exactly what I said but I think it’s in the ball park) so can I ask what you think about a legacy Batman? And who would you have be the second Batman? Also your art is amazing and I love leap of faith, hope you have a great day
i remember that comment!!!!
i honestly believe that having a "legacy" for every single hero is just,,, boring. the reason this happens is because they are never going to NOT have Batman. how else would they make money??? so they just keep giving us reasons why his mantle has to be there. just like the Joker HAS to always come back, why new characters are always tied in to existing characters somehow, etc.
in a perfect world, we'd get new characters sometimes and overarching storylines that aren't regressed the second we make any headway on character development. we'd have new villains by now that make a name for themselves outside of the original villains, we'd see an impact on our settings and characters, all that jazz. and in this perfect world, we wouldn't have so many legacy mantles
and i mean, like, one of the supers taking up the Superman name? that's cool. they're a family, thematically it works. even with the Flash family, I accept how they do it (though I hardly keep up with their comics)
but Batman?????
STOPPPPP
Every other Batfam member has an arc where they branch away from Bruce and the name, save for Tim and Cass, I think. Tim is... a gray area. I only put him here because he's back to being Robin (because DC can't let go of that money maker!). It's an insult to their characters to put them into the Batman mantle, but in universe, this keeps happening because "Gotham needs Batman."
No! No they do not! They do not need Batman specifically. They need his ideals! His kids do not need to be Batman to have Batman still be around after he's put up the cape or died, because they are that future without the cape! There is no magic tied in to that stupid cowl, they just see it that way because Batman is this larger than life figure. Of course they think their dad is impervious to the world, that the cape that protected them is special, that they need Batman. But that is NOT the case.
Just like with any family, life will move on. The legacy continues through the lessons that the kids learned. In many ways, they are better than Batman because they learned from his mistakes, too. Just like every kid does with their parent.
But they don't want to be Batman. And it's kind of insane to keep putting them in someone else's suit, basically someone else's identity. Dick is a great Batman, but his biggest fear is losing himself in Bruce's shadow. What happened to Jason was because of Batman's failure, and it isn't healthy to put him in the Batman suit. Tim should be allowed to move on from Robin and finally get his own mantle because he has always used someone else's. (Yes I am purposefully forgetting that Drake existed do not remind me.) That and the existence of Gun Batman. Do NOT put him in that suit!!!!!!! Damian is branching out of vigilante life altogether, which is so so so good for him. Him becoming Batman after struggling so much with his identity, purpose, and blood ties, is a spit in the face to character development. I think Duke should get to choose his own name for a hero mantle (because Bruce thought of Signal), and thematically I don't think he fits into the Batman role. He is a shining light the way Robin was, but this time more literal because of his powers. Batman is very human, that's what makes his character. Duke deserves more than being Batman.
The best person for that job is Cass.
Not only does she understand the No Kill Rule in the way that Bruce understands it, she is also his equal or superior in every way. Whether it's her physical abilities, or her intelligence, or her morals, Cass fits the bill. She's one of the strongest members of the Batfam and I think she would be able to take on the burden without crumbling under the pressure or feeling scared of that responsibility. She's fit in to the Batman role before, has mirrored him in many ways, and is also her own character (and man I just really love Cass). She strikes the same amount of fear into people that Batman does, a master of the shadows, the dark, and she has a hope that I think Gotham could need.
But she doesn't need to be Batman to do it. She just has to fill in that role. Sure, she could pick up the name Batman, it won't kill me. But so long as she fills in the space that Bruce left behind, becoming the next leader and mentor, she could be anyone.
I think it's more powerful that way to show that the time has passed. That Bruce's time as a vigilante made an impact. Gotham has changed. His kids have grown up. And the Dark Knight is still there, at home.
#dc#batman#batman and robin#dc robin#batfamily#my two cents#cassandra cain#cassandra cain wayne#cass should be the next “batman”#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#i specifically focused on his kids btw#and#duke thomas#still iffy on if duke is his *kid* or if he's just a really close student#like he lives at the manor but does Duke view bruce as a father?#in any case he's there#the batman legacy#dc would never dare#they are cowards
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