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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— HERO OF THE HALF-TRUTH

SUMMARY : “I'm a hoe for Soldier Boy (I'm past hiding it😅) so I thought maybe you write one smut fic where he seemingly picks up reader from a bar, where he is at some promo event or something like that, and they go for a quickie behind a bar and after when she wants to go home, he forces her to sit through rest of the evening with his cum dripping down her legs, and if you're comfortable with it- there could be some degrading, hair pulling, roughness, choking?” — @k-slla

PAIRING : soldier boy (ben) x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

TAGS/WARNINGS : explicit(18+), tiny canon divergence, depression, trauma, ptsd, degradation, i made soldier boy a sad little puppy, hair pulling, roughness, choking, unprotected p in v, cum kink

WORD COUNT : 3.7k

A/N : title from an august burns red song. this fills the secret relationship square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I almost forgot to post this lmao

Soldier Boy, he can’t seem to escape Vought.

Even breaking every rule Stan Edgar enforced didn’t get him released of the steel strings keeping him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted.

After being tortured for forty fucking years, it was the least he thought he deserved. He was old as fuck, he could feel the heaviness of it every morning when his eyes opened up to the bright sunlight. He was exhausted and everything looked dead.

On top of everything, there was a dull ache that remained attached to him like a parasite from the betrayal of his teammates. Even though they’re all dead, even though they didn’t matter to him as he ended their lives—or even before that—his life layers around the hurt and pain left behind by the Crimson Countess.

There was an emptiness that pressed into his soul like a black hole that no amount of drugs, sex, and alcohol could fill. It got sucked up like it was nothing, unseen, forgotten. It’s how he felt, too. Like nothing, forgotten, thrown away like a useless piece of trash by the very company that struggled to keep him under their thumb now, once again.

He had dreams and hopes before everything that happened. He could have had it all, but all of that evaporated in the same way he had eviscerated his old lover, the Crimson Countess.

More often than he liked, Ben woke up to nothing, to no one—completely alone, unloved, unimportant. Forgotten.

Still, here he was, at a ridiculously expensive bar for a promo event. Rich assholes surrounded him, faking smiles and faking laughter, shaking hands and making stupid small talk. They wore expensive suits and held glasses of alcohol that they hardly drank from the whole night.

Don’t even get him started on the Supes that were on their best behaviour for the night. Pretending to be the good guys. Ben thought they were worse than him. Every single one of them were pathetic, useless, and weak. He didn’t like a single one, but he smiled, too, faking for the night knowing all the annoying cameras that were snapping shots of everyone at any given moment, and that irritating journalists were eavesdropping on every conversation to get the juiciest stories.

He rolled his eyes as soon as he was able to get away from a journalist who refused to take his ‘no comment’ for an answer. Instead, she was hounded by the Deep who was told which people to talk to in order to continue rewriting his image.

Ben grunted when he sat on the barstool and the bartender greeted him with a flirtatious, red-lipped grin. He wasn’t in the mood for anything tonight, but he mustered a smile when he ordered a whiskey. But otherwise, he stared into the golden liquid after taking a small sip, ignoring the woman when she brushed her fingers with his.

Life went by around him; pop music played in the background, people’s voices made a hundred symphonies from laughing and conversation. And the bartender took Ben’s rejection with pride and continued to speak to patrons, reporters, and other Supes.

His attention drifted away from the glass containing golden liquor when his skin prickled, a shiver running up his spine. He looked to the one side and then the other, there’s only one person who could make him feel that.

And there she was, sitting on a barstool at the edge of the bar top laughing it up with A-Train, rather awkwardly. It’s like she called to him, somehow, without words. Not a single look had been exchanged just yet. His body felt her before he even laid eyes on her beauty, or touched the softness of her, or caught a whiff of her floral scent.

Ben stood up to make his way to her. A-Train left instantly when Ben stood behind her with a scowl on his face. He watched her shiver with a tiny smirk, her sentence halfway complete by the time A-Train made it halfway across the room.

Casually, she spun around in the stool to face him. Her expression was guarded—to everyone else, they were strangers.

“Hey,” he grunted, deciding to take a seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, looking away from him to drink the sweet Cosmo she ordered for herself.

“I should be asking you that,” he shook his head and gave her a sideways glance. He caught the tiny smile on her face for being caught and bit his lip to stop himself from mirroring it.

She paused and took a slow, short sip of her drink. He resisted the urge to look at her for taking so long to respond. He could feel her hesitation and her quiet sigh made his smile drop slightly.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” she murmured, finally admitting what had driven her to see him in a place filled with people he was hoping to keep from entering her life. They had no privacy now with all the Supes and Stan Edgar around, and he wanted to be angry at her for risking their… relationship, but most importantly her safety.

He kept her from Vought, from Supes, from anyone who could hurt her or use her to get to him.

He felt bad. Even though he had good intentions. He couldn’t deny that he was neglecting her. Making her wait for him as Vought dragged him here and there either to play hero or to do shit like this. Promo events. Fucking movies, songs, advertisements.

It was exhausting to pretend so much.

He wished he could see her more often.

If he could, he’d like to return home to her. To lay in bed with her while she runs her fingers through his hair and while they watch another important movie he missed while he was… yeah.

He just wanted to settle down with her, but Vought was a danger to his dream with her.

Ben drowned the whiskey in one gulp and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, inhaling softly. He could feel her watching him, and he eyes subtly followed as he stood up and stomped away from the bar to get outside.

He hoped no one would follow him, except her.

The night was dark, and cool enough that the sky was clear and the stars fought to shine against dark blue-violet skies despite the bright city lights. There was no breeze, the air didn’t bite at his skin and made his cheeks and nose turn red.

It was perfect.

As perfect as the back of a bar could look during the evening. Cars zoomed by at the very end of the alley and colourful graffiti covered posters of Supes in the wall. Slander and hatred were sprayed against the walls, against Vought, a majority of the Supes. Others wanted Maeve back or defended Starlight, or Homelander.

People were twisted. Cruel. Pathetic. Hypocritical. As they always were. They never changed, from what he remembers. Not really. They always think they are right, that they know better-

“What?” He heard the heavy door slam against the wall. The door shut slowly behind her when Ben turned around to see colourful pink and blue lights from inside form a shape around her body.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face was sadder, but still careful. She knew better than to drop her guard. That fearful glint in her eyes told him that she knew better than to think she was safe. Or that he wasn’t being watched.

That didn’t stop Ben from wanting to hold her. To kiss away her doubts, to smooth the worry lines on her forehead with his fingers, to melt away the tension from her muscles.

“Sorry,” he whispered instead, his fingers twitching before clenching into a fist. He stepped towards her once the door clicked shut behind her, but she stood where she was as if her feet had grown roots, preventing her from reaching him. “You know I’d like to go everywhere with you in my arms, but-”

“You don’t need to explain it to me again,” she interrupted him softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to make herself warm. She looked down at the intricate designs on his suit rather than looking into his big, pleading, green eyes. “Did you miss me… At least?” She blurted out, embarrassment blazing up her face for needing that reassurance, for asking it out loud.

Ben took the final steps to close the distance between them and cupped her cheek. He pressed his lips to her forehead and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “I did, you know I did,” he mumbled softly against her.

Ben could feel her relax in his arms. She breathed out slowly and he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her as close as possible. She clung to the buckles on his vest and closed her eyes as the sounds of the city at night faded into nothing around the two of them.

Part of Ben still felt guilty. Probably more now that he was holding her than before.

Here she was, all dolled up and glamorous for him. Because she missed him. Sure, he thought of her way too much the entire week, but she doesn’t know that. He was so overwhelmed with his job and doing what was expected of him, reshoots and interviews, so many things that came with his contract with Vought.

If he trusted the damned company, he’d include her and her safety when it gets renewed. He’d request a meeting tomorrow, or tonight, to have it changed. So he wouldn’t have to sneak around with her. He’d like to quit to have all that without being under Vought, but he wouldn’t feel safe, and therefore, she wouldn’t be safe either.

If he could, he’d fake his death and run away with her. But unlike him, a man who simply doesn’t belong in this time, she was the tree at the centre of a garden that everyone loved to gaze at and be around. He couldn’t just uproot her and leave an empty space where she once was in everyone’s lives. She was loved for who she was—genuine, kind, feisty. But Ben was just liked for his looks, for what he was good for—except for her, he loved him as he was, for all that he was.

Every ugly part. Every bad part. And there was a lot of that. He was an asshole and he was insecure, he already knew that. Who was he kidding besides the people who seemingly adored him? Fans?

“Come on,” she whispered, pulling away to kiss him on his bearded jaw, “let’s get back inside so I don’t freeze out here.” Ben’s fingers dug firmly into her hips to keep her in place.

“What makes you think I’m letting you leave so quickly?” His rough voice caused a shiver to run up her spine. She smiled softly against his mouth and pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “I missed you and you look gorgeous. And now that I have you here… I’m going to make a mess of you with the time I have.”

She inhaled sharply, excitement speeding up her heartbeat. Ben walked her backwards until her back hit the cold wall and she gasped softly once she was pressed against the painted bricks. Her flushed skin made her more sensitive to the cold surrounding her and almost instantly, before his luscious mouth even landed on hers, she felt a tingle of excitement followed by a flood of wetness between her legs.

“Are we really gonna fuck here?” She whispered against his lips. His beard tickled the soft skin of her chin when he hummed a ‘yes’ against her lips, pressing softly at first. “What if someone sees us?” She asked, burying her fingers into his soft, brown hair.

Ben smirked, his tongue teasing the seam of her lipstick-painted lips. The dull flavour of lipstick hit his taste buds, but his mouth still watered. Her lips parted just slightly, her shaky breath made his lips tingle. “You should know better than to think that would stop me.”

“Fuck,” she exhaled, his voice alone was enough to make her moan. His fingers clenched her dress, slowly dragging it up her legs, slowly pressing his knee between her legs. To tease, his knee grazed her clit, their mingled breaths made his mind hazy with arousal.

“Now, be a good little slut and give me your panties,” he ordered, releasing her dress to smack her ass with both of his hands. She moaned softly and brought his lips down to hers for a deeper, sensual kiss.

His fingers tangled in her hair and he tilted her head to slide his tongue into her mouth, licking, sucking, desperately looking for a way to fuse himself with her. Her fingers blindly pulled and tugged at the buckles around his hips and then she whined uselessly when she couldn’t get a single one undone.

He stopped kissing her to laugh softly, “I told you to focus on you.”

“Please,” she laughed shyly, pecking his lips. She cupped his cock over his trousers and he gasped, rolling his hips against her hand.

“We have to make this quick,” he told her, stepping back to work quickly on the buckles. He was faster, pulling out straps expertly, habitually, from years of practice. He didn’t even have to glance away from her flustered face, but unlike him, she clumsily dragged her seamless panties down her legs.

He hadn’t removed anything, not enough for her to see how hard he was, and he wasn’t giving her a chance to. “I’m keeping these, doll,” he grinned, snatching her underwear and shoving them inside his armour vest, right where his heart thundered against thick metal.

“Can I keep anything of yours?” She pouted.

“You can keep my cum?” He offered with a smug smirk, his hands moved from where they were to grasp her hips and spin her around faster than she could process.

“Okay,” she replied with a smile, hesitantly setting her hands and cheek against the wall. He laughed against her shoulder and hiked up her dress again, his fingers trailing up her sides.

“You just love being a fucking cum-dump for me, dontcha?” He teased, his voice dripping over her like honey, deep and hot. She moaned softly in response and wiggled her hips impatiently.

“Fuck.. anything for you, Ben.” He sank his teeth into her neck and guided his cock to her dripping entrance. The tip of his cock circled her entrance and slid through her wet folds slowly. The feeling of her bare heat against his skin made his grip tighten painfully around her hip.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet already,” he groaned, the length of his dick teasing her clit with every back and forth, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” He slowly pushed himself into her, shuddering at her delicious warmth wrapped around him. Her walls fluttered around him and she pushed her hips back into him, adjusting to the size of him. “That’s my needy little whore,” he praised degradingly, dragging his calloused hands up the front of her dress to palm her breasts.

She moaned softly and reached back to thread her fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he groaned deeply against her back. The sound shook through her body like an earthquake and sent ripples of pleasure to her clit and pulsing walls.

“Beg for my cock, needy little slut, show me how much you missed me,” he whispered into her neck with a smirk. He was all smug and sexy, hard and firm, and each touch woke something in her that she would have otherwise been too embarrassed to show anyone else.

“Please, fuck me,” she begged pathetically, pulling harder at his hair if she couldn’t convince him with her pleas. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pressed his fingers into her palm until she relaxed her grip. “God, please, Ben… I need you so bad,” she whispered needily, extending her hands back to grip onto any part of him that she could easily reach when he let her hand fall.

“Come on, let me hear you,” he panted, slowly thrusting into her. He bit his lip, digging his fingertips harder into her hips. She gasped at the pain and squirmed, but a tingle of pleasure began to bloom as he bruised her skin and dragged his cock slowly through her walls. “My pretty little slut,” he growled, smoothing his hands up her sides to bend her forward slightly.

“Please, Ben! I need you!” She whined, allowing him to roughly pull her up again against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, snapping his hips forward once as he groped her chest. Ben pulled the top of her dress down and didn’t hold back with the painful pinch of her nipples between his fingers. He ground his cock into her, driving himself deeper as she moaned and squeezed him.

Her toes curled inside her heels and her breath hitched, but Ben continued to mouth at her cheek and her shoulder, his breath as uneven as hers. She could feel the grin on his face, the tickle of his beard fueled her arousal and she was dripping around his cock like a desperate whore.

“Please! I-I can’t take it!” She cried, pulling hard on Ben’s hair to make him move faster. He growled against her flushed skin and delivered another rough thrust in response.

Ben’s teeth grazed her jawline and he grunted softly with each unhurried, deep, hard thrust. Her soft pleas and loud moans echoed against concrete walls, carried into the dark nothingness of the city. Her pussy clenched tighter around him and he was almost out of breath from how amazing she felt.

She clung to him as best as she could and his large hand ended up wrapped around her throat. He was waiting for her to finally fall apart and beg him to make her come. All she could do was ride along the tiny edge of her orgasm, so close to toppling over, but never having that pleasure wash over her.

“Faster, Ben! Let me come... Please… make me come!” She cried out, trying to move her hips to desperately meet his deep, slow pace. He squeezed her throat, pressing his fingers around her throat until her vision turned nearly all the way black.

“Christ, you’re perfect when you beg for my cock,” he chuckled. Be relaxed his grip and she inhaled sharply, her brain getting fuzzier, like static. A moan slipped from between her lips and Ben finally began thrusting into her faster, sharper, precisely. Short quick gasps made their way past her swollen lips and his name hung in the air when it was stuttered lovingly.

She found it easier to hold onto the wall, bending herself over once again as her knees became weak and her heels became difficult to stand in. Her mind evaporated from her skull, all she could feel was him, Ben. His suit brushed against her sensitive skin, hard armour pressing into her soft body. His beard scraped against her flushed neck, causing her to shudder and clench around him.

His lips were wet and warm against her skin, his breath adding to the heat to combat the cold that engulfed them. His hands touched and grabbed at what he could reach before tangling in her hair. He gripped her hair in one hand to breathe clearly into her ear, and he pulled at the strands so she stood up straight and couldn’t move away from him again.

Her scalp stung at occasional harsh tugs but his fingers on her clit distracted her enough to find more pleasure than pain. “You always do the stupidest fucking things for my cock,” he grunted in her ear, and despite how irritated she was from being edged she couldn’t help being amused.

Maybe it was all the pleasure that put her in a good mood or maybe it’s that she was finally where she wanted to be, with Ben. The man behind Soldier Boy.

Her body had a pin-point focus on all the pleasure induced by everything he did to her. Taking her ability to breath with his grip tight around her throat, holding her to him with her hair wrapped around his fist. She felt like an overfilled balloon, overwhelmed with pleasure, love. She missed him more than anything and he was intoxicating.

She felt her orgasm wash over her, a scream of Ben’s name that he was partially able to muffle with his hand squeezing the side of her neck. She gasped, strained and strangled sounds that could barely move past his tight grip and then he let go before he could finish.

She was cold and empty for a few moments, her pussy clenched sound nothing and then a breath was punched out of her chest when he pressed her back into the wall. She was up in his arms, back to moaning and shaking when he slammed back into her.

A few quick thrusts with rough kisses pressed against her lips before warmth bloomed inside her from spurts of his release. Warm cum trickled down between her thighs and Ben laughed huskily against her shoulder when she held him tighter.

“I missed you,” she whispered breathlessly, slightly disappointed when he pulled his cock out of her and set her back down. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath and recompose herself. She closed her eyes when he dipped down to kiss her cheek.

“Me too,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across her flushed cheeks. She fixed her clothes and tried to keep her focus on him, but she felt exhausted. Weak. “Tell you what,” he began, pulling her back in to keep her warm, “Sit like this through the night and I’ll take you home with me,” he proposed, smirking at the laughter that shook her body. “That’s what you’re good for, keeping my cum safe inside that needy little cunt of yours,” he brushed his lips against hers, collecting sticky strings of their release with his fingers to smear them across her painted lips. He bit his lip and watched her lick her mouth clean.

“Yes, sir, Soldier Boy,” she smiled, entranced by the lascivious way he sucked on his fingers.

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

Text

Feels Just A Little Bit Better

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: being sad for unknown reasons, just feeling down, spencer being such a sweetheart to you <3

Request by @matthew-gray-gubler-lover: Hello i would like to request a story i have been having a really hard time lately a lot of crying and sadness, could i please have a story where spencer Reid sees how sad i have been and he helps me, fluff & smut please, thank you so much 💗

Summary: There are days when your depression and sadness hits you out of nowhere, and you can't go to work much less get out of bed. When Spencer sees you're not at work, he knows exactly why and decides to take care of you.

Square Filled: going into hiding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Not everyone will have good days and it’s not expected for anyone to always have good days. There will be times when you get to work and have the energy to solve the case with enthusiasm and hope, and then there will be times when the only thing you have the energy for is to get out of bed.

But you don’t even have the energy for that right now. There is a weight weighing heavily on your chest that makes getting out of bed the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. This kind of sadness, this kind of weight sneaks up on you when you least expect it, not allowing you to get over it until a couple of days later. There is no way you can go to work like this so you grab your phone and send a message to Hotch.

So sorry but I don’t feel so good. I won’t be able to make it to work.

That’s fine. Stay home and get some rest.

The B Team is out right now so that lets your team catch up on paperwork and other things you’ve missed while being out. Hotch doesn’t mind if you sit this day out since it’s a break from the grueling work you see every day.

Spencer comes to work with two coffees in his hands, one for you and one for him. All he hears is how much you love the coffee from the local coffee shop and he has your order memorized like it’s his own. He doesn’t see you at your desk when he comes in so he sets your coffee down on your desk and waits for you. He waits ten minutes and gets concerned when he doesn’t see you. He leaves both coffees alone and heads to Hotch’s office.

“Hotch?” Spencer asks as he knocks on the open door.

“Come in.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She called in sick.”

Spencer knows you lied to Hotch. You’ve been feeling down this entire week when he noticed you not engaging in conversation with the rest of the team. You always have something to input so when you were silent, he knew something was wrong.

“Can I bring her some soup? I’ve already completed all my paperwork. You can call me if you need me here.”

“Yes, I know,” Hotch chuckles and pats the enormous pile of files on his desk. “That’s fine.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch has a lot of faith in his team so when they make requests like this, he’s encouraged to say yes. Plus, he knows if he calls Spencer, he would return immediately. Spencer packs his things and leaves without another word. You live fairly close to the BAU since you don’t like driving. It’s either a long walk or a short bus ride away, and you two would often ride the bus together.

Spencer is the only one who has a key to your apartment so he doesn’t bother knocking on the door.

“It’s me. I’m coming in,” Spencer announces. He walks to your room and sees you beneath the covers. The only part of you that is showing is your face and he can see the clear wetness of tears on your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

All you can do is shrug. He leaves your room to gather supplies he knows won’t take your sadness away but will certainly help. It takes ten minutes for Spencer to grab what he needs and comes back with movies, some snacks, a book, and some water.

“What are you doing?” you mumble.

“Keeping you company,” he smiles.

“Go back to work, Spencer.”

“I already talked to Hotch about this. He’s cool.” Spencer gets into bed next to you and lays all the snacks out for you. You turn to face him with dried tears and wet eyelashes. “I know you’re not probably hungry but I brought these just in case. If you get bored with the movies, I have a book I can read to you.”

“What are you really doing here?”

“I know you’re sad. You don’t have to tell me why but I’m gonna keep you company until I know you’re gonna be okay.”

A new wave of tears wash over you from how nice he’s being. He wraps an arm around you, pulls you into his chest, and plays the movie. You can’t tell him why you’re sad because you don’t fully know yourself. The only thing you do know is that you feel ten times better in his arms, and for that, you smile.

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lululandd · 11 months

Text

whiskey sour;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 1577

warnings: meet..cute(?)

note: my heart said angst but my brain said fluff, and i cant write without a brain so… (also on ao3)

summary: the man at the bar never talks. not to women hitting on him, not to the men squaring him up for fights.

You see him every weekend for 3 months straight, sitting at the same place, wearing some rotation of dark hoodies, and sporting some manly drink that seem like they taste as angry as he looks. You notice the only one he talks to is the bartender. And now you, apparently.

You trudged into the bar with a sour face and a sour mood and sat next to him, which you wouldn’t do if there was legitimately any other seat. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” You pointed at his drink after getting the barkeep’s attention.

It surprised you when the drink came less than a third of the glass it came in. Did the bartender think you’re a pussy and gave you less? Whatever.

So you downed it in one go.

Horrible idea. It burned from your tongue down to your esophagus, and you coughed your lungs out for a solid minute while tears streamed down your face before the fire dissipates.

“You’re supposed to sip.” You heard someone mutter after your body stopped being dramatic over the drink.

Who the fuc—

“You savour it.” He chided. Oh, it’s the quiet man. So the reason no one talked to him is because he’s some kind of obnoxious fuck?

“No ‘you allright’ or ‘you okay’? Straight to the lecture?” You bit back. Fuck, you feel like purposefully bumping into him as you slid off your seat, but he’s built like a tank and you’re not going to test whether you’re wet noodle or wet tissue against him right now. You trudged out of the bar you entered not fifteen minutes ago, and out of anger you promise to never go back.

And by never you mean like two years. You’ve changed jobs, moved closer to work, and now you literally live above said bar you never wanna go back to.

Fuck.

A few weeks went by before seeing him again. Still sitting in the same place, still wearing dark hoodies, still staring daggers at everyone. You changed your mind on drinking that day, not when he’s around.

But the next day you weren’t so lucky. Thinking he wouldn’t be there—since it was a weekday—you plopped right in front of the barkeep and asked him about rumours and gossips of the week.

“Well, that hot widow I kinda fancy got a date yesterday, seemed like it went well.”

You rolled your eyes, “If only you asked her out first.”

He laughed as he slides you a glass of water. “Did that at a previous place, people think they get free drinks when they date a bartender.”

“Wait, you don’t?”

“Nah. I mean, I’ll give them some but lots take it too far and think they can order for a group.”

You scrunched you nose, “I think you just dated shit people, Sam.”

He scoffed, “Shut the fuck up.”

His attention was away from your a second and you decided to take a glance at who ordered. It’s him. You didn’t even notice when he came, to think someone his size would make a lot of noise when they walk. But you were too caught up in conversation, you guess.

When he got back he grabbed two glasses and filled it with a big ball of ice and poured very little of what you think was bourbon into the glasses. You had learnt a little here and there, since you do live above and spend some time with Sam on slow days. To your surprise he handed one to you.

You immediately looked towards the man’s direction and he waved his glass at you.

Oh no.

Taking a deep breath, you grab the glass and place yourself next to him.

“Allright?”

You sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry, I remember this is a sippy drink and not a gulpy drink.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, by the way.” You raised your glass and started sipping. You can’t hide your wince. This would definitely be a good if you were depressed or sad or trying to forget a horrible incident or getting over a breakup, but things are way too nice in your life for you to enjoy it properly. “Would you be offended if I asked the barkeep to make this into a whiskey sour?”

He answered by waving Sam down.

As your drinks slowly diminish, you learn exactly two things about him. His name is Simon and he likes dogs. The man dodged so many questions like Neo and those fucking bullets, and if Sam didn’t somehow made the previously godawful whiskey taste so goddamn tasty you would’ve probably gone upstairs and to bed by now.

But Simon is a good listener, so whenever you feel like having a drink, you sit next to him. It’s definitely a biased opinion, but you think it’s highly unfair that he is as funny as he is attractive. He’s cracking jokes as if his life depended on it, like an ugly kid that had to make his way through school being funny to avoid getting bullied. You also learnt one new thing about him, he has a friend called Soap. Of course you didn’t ask about him, because you know he doesn’t divulge any information, but it’s really funny that the other man calls him quite often lately and then hearing them bantering back and forth for a couple minutes before you can hear the scot on the other end of the phone yell something so scottish you couldn’t understand a word. For a little while you fall into this fun routine, until he stopped coming one day. You think nothing of it at first, like he is a grown man and he could have those seasonal jobs, but weeks turned to months and you miss your drinking buddy.

It was a rainy afternoon, and you opted to wait at the office an extra two hours for the rain to lighten up at least a little. Regret settled deep in your bones for rejecting so many ride home offers, as you wrung what you could of your wet clothes. Some fucker in a pickup truck thought it would be funny to drive at sixty by some puddles and splash everyone at the sidewalk. Everyone huddled under the same awning to try and clean themselves up and share their plight. After feeling dry enough, you started to head back when you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, and then a hand on your shoulder.

“You look like a wet rat.”

Fighting words. Those are fighting words. You did the one thing you know is appropriate for such a greeting.

You hugged him. Wet clothes and all.

He was tense for the duration of the hug, and ended it quickly with pats to your upper back. A wide smirk graced your face as you looked up at him, and you can immediately tell—albeit covered by a face mask—that he’s unhappy of the outcome.

“Hi.” You greeted, the smirk getting wider at his apparent annoyance.

“There’s a kebab place nearby. Let’s go.”

It was a seven minute walk, and you were glad the place he led you to was rather dirty, cramped, and two girls were doing their homework on a table at the back. The food will definitely be good. You looked around for a place to sit after telling him what you wanted. Scouting for a table with no food left, you stood near a family of four and waited for them to leave.

Simon came back with the food you ordered and some drinks you definitely didn’t tell him to get. But it was apparently some foreign soda that you’ve never seen, and you were happy to get to try it. Halfway through your meal someone clapped his shoulders and you swear he was about to stand up and do something until he saw the other man’s face.

The man with a mohawk started, “Who’s this, LT?”

Simon skipped too many beats to answer, and looking at his face, you swear he was legitimately about to throw down, so you did what you think would be natural at a time like this.

“Oh, uhh… I don’t know him, I just sat here because the place was full.”

He then introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Johnny. This here is my mate, Simon.”

“Piss off, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed, and when he went to the cashier you were afraid he would join you, but he said goodbye as soon as he got his order.

Both of you ate in silence for a bit. “So you don’t know me, huh?” He finally cracked, smiling at you.

Oh thank god, you thought he was mad, “Sorry, you looked really uncomfortable.”

“That bad?”

You slowly nodded, “Honestly, yeah. Scared you were gonna beat him up on the spot.”

“Nah.” He sipped on his soda, contemplating something. “Do that at work though, not here.”

You blinked. “You’re gonna beat him up.. At work?”

He raised his eyebrows as a confirmation, and you can see he’s not gonna elaborate.

Leaving the place, he walked you back to your place, under the guise of needing a drink after having such a ‘rough night’.

“Why?” You teased him as you two walked in, “Is it rough because now your friend thinks you like people that looks like a wet rat?”

“Nah. He already knows I do.”

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he did tell Sam to make two whiskey sours.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #ngl there was supposed to be a line saying #‘yeah well you look like youd rather be circumcised for a 2nd time’#but someone (>:3) said brits dont get circumcisions so #that went out the window

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thoughtsfromlayla · 2 months

Text

My Dearest Defiance

Summary: Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. Now your brother has been kidnapped and you can't do anything to help him.

Notes: ~7.5k words, This fic is a follow-up to this post sent in by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt, thank you so much for the idea! I took a few liberties with the plot and I hope that's okay with you!

Warnings: Platonic! Big Brother x little sister! Reader, *side eyes* a lot of angst, violence, physical abuse, heavy mentions of cancer, implied alcohol consumption, minor Dreaming mind-fuckery, death of Reader (you come back...ish), death of characters, comfort in the end :)

Masterlist

Mother Night and Father Time, the first lovers, the everlasting lovers. And it was through their love that the Endless were born. Your eldest brother Destiny came first, birthed in dark cloaks and the book that was named after him. He is in charge of the fate of every being to live.

Every being who has lived must follow the path of this fate and fate always ends in Death, your eldest sister. When Mother and Father realized that the humans must do something while waiting for Death, they birthed your favorite brother, Dream. He is hope, the one who gives the humans courage to stand up for themselves and make do with their lives. Soon, humans wanted more and in succession, the rest of your siblings were born: Destruction, Desire, Despair, and sweet Delight soon to be Delierum.

While every Endless was busy tending to their own realms and their own duties, you were born. Endless in name but not in power. You were the runt of the family, with no realm to call your own, and no responsibilities of your own. Yet here you stood amongst the humans that soon called you Defiance, the human spirit, the resilience to continue despite all odds.

You’re sure your siblings knew of you, certainly enough to be invited to family dinner once every 100 years. Yet you could never shake the feeling of inadequacy when you were sat at the far end, only to be over-talked by everyone. They were discussing important matters, after all, nothing that you had to concern yourself with.

You only find solace in Dream, where no matter how difficult the days get, you may always find a home in his realm. While he is adamant about letting you stay in the castle, you find it more comfortable to live in a cottage at the edge of the realm where the forest meets with the vast unknown and you grow vegetables from the soil you tow. It also allows you to escape to the waking world without Dream knowing.

You love humans, their lives fascinate you to no end. They know of you, just as they know of all of your Endless siblings, but sometimes it just takes a little more for them to realize. You would never push them to admit to your existence and somewhere along the millions of years of existence, you have given up trying to be the center of attention.

To understand humans is to live like them, talk like them, and love like them. Unfortunately, humans are more than that and often succumb to feelings of anger, depression, righteousness, and violence. You try not to associate yourself with those emotions, but it’s innate.

It’s been a few weeks since you stepped foot in Dream’s castle, and who could blame you? The village in which you reside is much more fun than the dreary castle your brother tends to enjoy more. The thick castle wall blocks out the sunlight, it’s filled with dust and smells of wet stones and old books. Not to mention, when Dream was busy, there was no one to talk to. Lucienne was always busy, picking up after her King, and you don’t even want to get started on Mervin.

He’s only nice to you cause you gave him his pumpkin head when his original turnip head started going out of style. Otherwise, it’s cigar smoke being blown into your face and sassy remarks.

You’re out in the market square when you feel the presence of your Endless Sibling. You turn from the flower vendor with a big smile and wave at Dream as he makes his way towards you. The dreams that he created step to the side in the presence of their sovereign.

“Brother!” You exclaim when he gets close enough for you, wrapping one of your arms around his while the woven basket hangs in the other.

The basket was filled with a few apples and a fresh loaf of bread. You were just about to buy a few glass snowdrop flowers before you were pleasantly surprised by Dream.

“How do you do this afternoon, dear sister?” He speaks, leaning into your face to tease you.

You giggle at him as the two of you walk the main road, passing dreams and nightmares alike, a few waving at you in greeting that you return.

“I’m doing great. I was thinking of going to the waking world later today and spending some time with Death, actually.” You respond, your arm leaves Dream’s as a different vendor catches your eyes. They were selling acrylic paints in colors that you haven’t seen since half a century ago.

“Here, hold this,” You say as you hand off your basket to Dream. He does as he’s told and holds the basket, the white paint offputting to his otherwise completely black outfit.

You grab a few jars of paint and can already think of the wonderful things to draw when you get back into your cottage. There was a specific lake nearby that you haven’t been able to do justice to, but you think you finally can with the new color.

A brief conversation of exchange happens between you and the vendor before you turn around. You burst out laughing at the sight before you. Dream stood in the middle of the road where you had first told him to hold your basket and hadn’t moved an inch. His shoulders were stiff and taught as he held your basket as far away from his body as possible.

“It’s not going to bite you, you know!” You practically cackle at him. Your giggles follow you as you carefully place the jars of paint into your basket. You think that you will paint some flowers and ivy onto your basket later tonight.

You go to take the basket back from him but he’s quick to move it away from your grabby hands.

“You specified that I should hold it, so hold it I shall,” He says and holds the basket higher, just out of your reach, when you go to grab at it again.

You huff at his rather stubborn behavior, but he’s been like this since the beginning. He always looks after you and takes care of you. You’re always grateful for it, but you can carry your own basket. You resolve the conversation with a roll of your eyes but the smile on your face stays in place when you turn your back to him.

Dream walks you home, basket now significantly heavier and full of things you didn’t really need. Well, except maybe the paint, it’s good to splurge every once in a while. Your cottage is basked in a warm light as the Dreaming’s sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon to rise in another universe. The pie you had baked this morning had long since cooled and you brought it inside with a hum, your brother still following you.

He set the basket on the simple kitchen table before taking a seat and watching you slice up the pie with a smile. You set the pastry down in front of him and another plate for yourself. The savory apple flavoring takes over the senses when you take the first delicious bite.

“I would like you to come back to the castle soon,” Your brother says as you take another bite.

“Whatever for?” You question, a little bit of apple filling falling out of your mouth. “The cottage is my home.”

Dream sighs but answers anyway. “I will be gone for a moment, I need to take care of a rouge nightmare, and would like you to be cared for while I am away from the Dreaming.”

“How long will you be gone for you to want me to live in that dreadful place?” You make a face as you think about the boring days ahead of you. Well, maybe you can escape to the castle garden if Mervin isn’t paying attention.

“I cannot tell you for I do not know.”

You purse your lips as you think about his request. “Fine,” You groan.

“Best not see Sister Death today.” When you don’t bother with a response he speaks against “Farwell, sister. I will be back soon,” He promises you before standing. You didn’t get the chance to follow him to the door before he leaves, his apple pie still untouched.

“Ugh, how wasteful.” You joke to yourself.

You spend the rest of your evening painting your basket as you had wanted before packing up a few items for the castle. Your basket was a gift from your brother and had an infinite amount of storage. So you managed to shove an extensive amount of your wardrobe, the paints, and some of the freshly baked pastries into the small wooden thing. You set off when the moon was high in the sky and the stars came down from their afternoon nap and danced in the village square.

Their stardust shoes clink like pure jade against the cobblestone road, illuminating the otherwise quiet and sleeping town. A few wave at you, shimmering particles following their movements before they return to their waltz. You wave back to them before continuing on your journey, mindful of where you stepped.

When stars come down to the Dreaming they become transparent and more gaseous than solid but that doesn’t stop them from burning hot. And unless you wanted to recounter that one time you stepped through one and started sneezing and coughing stardust for the next 10 years, you’ll keep your distance - only allowing for their natural light to guide your way out of the village and towards the castle.

By the time you reach the castle, Dream is nowhere to be found and you assume he went out to do what he mentioned earlier that day. Your room was set up for you, Dream obviously had some palace staff tidy up the room as you took a look around the clean environment. Otherwise, everything was in the same place you had left it since the last time you were at the castle. You yawn as you set your basket down by the door. First a good night’s rest, then you can go to the waking world to do your own things.

You sneak out of the castle a few minutes before dawn, the soft bed and good night’s rest giving you the energy you need to do so. You grimace when the door creaks loudly as you slowly open it, smelling the early morning dew on the grass and the warming dawn wind.

“Where are you headed, my dear?” A voice stops you in your tracks. You suck your lips into your mouth as you soon recognize the voice.

“Good morning, Lucienne,” You greet curtly, holding, or rather, hiding, your basket behind your black skirt.

Lucienne gives you a pointed look. “Yes, good morning.”

You give her a smile before stepping back out the door, only to be stopped when she purposefully clears her throat.

“The question?” She presses.

You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes, not that it would work. “What question?”

“Lady Defiance, my Lord specifically states that I keep my eyes on you.” Lucienne holds her hands behind her back as she takes her stance.

“By all means, keep your eyes - hey what’s that?!” You gawk as you point behind Lucienne.

Lucienne snaps her head around to look at what you were so surprised by. She doesn’t see or sense anything when she does. It’s about two seconds of her searching before she realizes that she has been duped. When she turns around the door is swinging shut and you are nowhere to be seen. She slams the door open and only sees the last of your figure disappearing on the horizon.

You’re still giggling to yourself about pulling off that little trick when you reach the ocean of the Dreaming. The little wooden dock creaks under your weight as you skip across it. Having done this traveling before, you jump right in with a squeal, holding your nose close so you don’t get any water in.

The water pushes and pulls but you don’t fight the current knowing that it will take you where you wanted to go. When you emerge, you cough once and the water falls off your body, leaving you dry in cloudy 1916 England. You wrap your blazer closer to your body as the wind picks up and leave the alleyway. The familiar smell of roasted peanuts from street vendors and car fumes tickles your nose when you turn the corner to walk into the hospital.

“Hi, I’m here to visit Genny, uh, Geniveve, Geniveve Colemen,” You correct yourself to the receptionist. The woman nods and looks down at her computer.

“She’s in the same room, 443. Here’s your visitor’s pass.” She hands you a laminated badge on a lanyard.

You thank her before wearing the lanyard and going towards the nearest elevator. The elevator smelled of shoe polish and disinfectant spray and it made your nose crinkle. You just hope the smell doesn’t transfer onto your clothes.

When you reach your destination, you knock on Genny’s door before entering. She wears her hospital gown and was reading a book when she looks up. A smile pasters onto her face when she sees you.

“Y/N!” She drops her book and sits up straighter.

“Genny!” You exclaim back with the same amount of excitement. You place your basket by her bed before pulling out a fresh vase of flowers and setting it by her bedside table.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asks.

“Yeah, my mother took me to some private tutor to help me study for my tests,” You lie through your teeth as you fluff the flowers to make them look more appealing.

You tuck your school skirt underneath you when you sit down next to Genny and reach for your basket again. “I brought you some homebaked goods. I know this hospital’s food has got to be horrendous.”

You bring out the baked loaf of bread you bought the day before and rip off a slice for her. She takes the loaf and inhales the scent.

“Gosh, Y/N, I don’t know how you make such good baked goods. Your husband will be a lucky one if you stop trying to chase them off.” She giggles and muffles through her full mouth.

You laugh with her, sparing her the details of your actual life. You bring forth the lie you had carefully planted yourself as instead. A straight-A student that goes to the same school as Genny before she was diagnosed with cancer, how you were her best friend that visited her when you got the chance, how you had gotten onto the school council and despite all of her poking and prodding, she would not get to know what the school formal’s dance theme is going to be unless she went with you tomorrow to the dance. You try not to think about how frail she has gotten since the first time you’ve met her. Her collarbones were poking out and you can see how hard it was for her to take even breaths.

When she asks you again later in the visit about the school dance you rebuttal quickly.

“Are you going to come to the dance with me?” You laugh. “Speaking of which, I got you a dress, too!” You go back to your basket, pulling out a formal dress, and setting it in front of Genny.

“Wow! Look at the bead stitching,” She says, running a delicate finger over the beading and gems then over the lacing.

“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I?” You sit back down with a smile and a tilt of the head. “It matches my dress, too.”

“What about your own date?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have time for boys!” You giggle again, hiding behind the lie that you don’t actually go to her school.

“Oh alright, I suppose I must go to the dance with you so you won’t be lonely.” Genny surrenders.

You smile at her, happy she finally agreed. “You’re a great friend.”

Genny coughs after your compliment and you’re quick to reach for the water and hand it over to her. When she sits up to drink you go to fluff her pillow. Genny lays back down with a sigh and all of the warmth that was in the room leaves through the window. She looks like she’s aged when she looks at you again, another cough crawling its way past her throat.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” You say, turning around to grab your things.

“No,” Genny refuses. “Can you stay for a little bit longer?” She coughs again and holds your hand weakly. “I want to feel like a normal girl for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” You whisper and sit back down, feeling the chill of the hospital around your ankles.

You watch over her as she falls asleep, the conversation taking the last of her energy. You begin to stare off into space, thinking about your life. You did your best with the gift of immortality, but as you stare at Genny’s tense face, you wish you could do more. Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power.

Your thoughts leave you when you feel the beating of wings and a flush of wind from the door. Your head snaps and you see your sister standing there in her black tank top and the same combats boots you wore.

“Sister Death,” You greet with a small smile, previous thoughts disappearing. “What brings you here today?”

Your sister only smiles at you. Your excitement of seeing your sister again is soon taken over by dread. You look between your sister and your friend and the dots connect.

“Oh... what? No!” You stand abruptly between your sister and Genny. “No! She still has so much to do in life!” You try to reason with her.

“You cannot bargain with me, Defiance. You know that,” She says in her soft voice.

“I don’t care,” Your lips form into a line. “At least let her go to the dance with me?” You try one more time.

Death sighs with exaggeration. “Fine, but not an hour more.”

“Thanks…” You’re not entirely sure how you managed to pull that off, unbeknownst to you that your sister has a soft spot for you much like Dream.

Your sister looks you up and down before she leans on the door. “So how are you doing, then?”

You look off to the side when you answer. “Fine,” You grumble out.

She lets out a huff, or perhaps a laugh, you can’t really tell. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

It was a tempting offer, after all, you haven’t spent time with your sister in a while. You thought about it for a little while longer. “No,” You end up refusing.

“Genny asked me to stay a little while longer, so I shall.” You turn away from your sister and sit back down in the uncomfortable hospital chair. You keep your head straight, looking after Genny, and don’t take your eyes off her even when you hear your sister departing.

When she does, a tremble runs over your body. You feel tears prick at your lashline as you come to terms with the fact that your friend will be dying soon. You did your best to prevent the inevitable, but with no powers of your own, it’s only a waiting game now.

You leave when visiting hours are over, Genny has yet to wake up from her nap. You leave the rest of the loaf on her bedside table, and a slice of your apple pie. You decide to tidy up the room as quietly as you can and hang her dress on the hook that was nailed to the wall. With one final look at her, you leave, only hoping that your sister doesn’t go back on her word and take her before her allotted time.

You spend the rest of the evening in the waking world, catching up on new things the humans have done with their time. You end your day on a park bench, illuminated only by a single street lamp. The park was quiet, you’re only accompanied by the sound of crickets and the wind along the trees. You take in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how you have missed this. If only it was closer to summer vacation, you would’ve taken Genny to the beach and had some sun time with her.

When you are done relaxing you go to the pond at the center of the park, the fountain in the middle still squirting out water and creating magnificent shapes and splashes along the surface. You could see the stars' reflection rippling as you peer at the lake over a bridge. The wind blows and you close your eyes to savor the moment.

“I wouldn’t jump if that’s what you’re thinking,” Someone says next to you.

You open your eyes and turn to see a man standing next to you, no older than 20. He takes off his hat when you speak.

“I wasn’t, but thank you,” You reply simply and go back to looking out towards the expanding city. He doesn’t leave your side despite your answer and it gets a bit awkward.

“Are you thinking of jumping? Because I would also not recommend that, sir,” You turn to him again and see him laughing.

“No,” He says. “I am just here to think.”

“Just like me then. What bothers your mortal mind?” You ask.

“Many things… I’m afraid I have let my family down.”

“How so?”

“We came here on a boat from the motherland, nothing to our name but a few pennies. I was supposed to go to college and finally put our family on the map. But I failed and now here I am, talking to a stranger on a bridge in the middle of the night.”

You laugh along with him. You knew of him and saw his dreams a few times when you went out exploring in the Dreaming. He wanted to be a doctor, specifically an athletic injuries doctor but failed out of medical school before he even got the chance. You rack your brain to think of his name, and when it comes to you, you speak.

“Do not worry, Albert Brocken, I’m sure there are many opportunities that will come alight in the near horizon. Perhaps you should take the entrance exam again, and see where it takes you.” You yawn and you realize that you should probably start heading home.

“Yeah… maybe I should,” He concludes with a sigh. “I think I might go into somnology,” He says more to himself than you.

“Somnology sounds fascinating,” You agree. “I must go home now, but best of luck to you!” You walk away, your shoes barely audible on the stone bridge over the gushing fountain. Albert doesn’t look your way when you depart, too focused on his new goal in life.

You find yourself standing before an old winding cottonwood tree in the same park. It’s been here for years, growing into the magnificent tree it is today. It’s passed by thousands of England residents almost every day, yet none of them are willing to stare at it hard enough to realize that the bark of the tree isn’t real.

You take one last look around the park to make sure no one else sees you before walking straight into the tree, the danging leaves caressing you like a gentle mother’s touch. The trunk of the tree turns into a curtain of falling sand and you pass through with no problems. When you emerge on the other side, the bright moon of the Dreaming greets you, illuminating and basking you in a soft welcome. When you come back into the castle, Lucienne is on top of you like a hot iron.

“Thank the Gods you are well,” She panics as she holds your arms. After taking a good overall look at you, she wraps her arms around your body and brings you into a hug.

“Lucienne?” Your question muffled against her crisp uniform. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my dear, you hadn’t come back all day. I thought perhaps…” She trails off before she takes a breath. “Lord Morpheus hasn’t returned, and neither had you, so I presumed the worst.”

“Morpheus hasn’t returned?”

“No, but you are here. Tell me, did you see him while you were in the waking world today?” Lucienne holds hope in her eyes and you resent the next word you say.

“No,” Your thoughts trailed off. “Morpheus hasn’t returned?” You ask again.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about. I may just be overthinking is all.” Lucienne reassures you.

“Okay…” You don’t completely believe her, somewhere deep inside you you can feel that Morpheus is in danger. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, a rouge nightmare shouldn’t be anything to be worried about. He should be home by now.

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow, but thoughts consume you. After the dance tomorrow night with Genny, you will go searching for your brother. The following day came quickly and you paced back and forth in the castle hall, the formal dress you had on jingling with your movements. Your thoughts were in overdrive, there was Morpheus of course, but you also knew that tonight was going to be Genny’s last day. And knowing that puts a weight on your shoulders. You have to make sure that tonight is going to be the best night of her life.

When the time came, you went to the waking world feeling dolled up and in an antique car with the roof down. Your hair had enough hairspray to survive a storm from Zeus himself. You pull up to the hospital in a screech, Genny already waiting for you in the lobby. You check your lipstick in the mirror one last time before Genny reaches your car.

“You know how to drive?!” Genny says with a smile and excitement that you found contagious.

You resecure the silk scarf that protected your hair from the wind and open a pair of sunglasses to put over your eyes. You look at her over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shining past the sunglasses before stepping on the gas pedal.

“I know how to do many things, sweet Genny!” You shout over the wind, pushing the glasses back to their original position.

Each time you looked over at Genny, her smile still hadn’t faltered and the last bits of the sun’s rays caught on the embroidery of her dress. Her softness brings a smile to your face and for a moment you forget about your brother.

You pull into the gravel driveway of the school formal’s destination. You had managed to weasel your way into the school council and they were able to get help from the local people. The theme for this year's dance was “A Magical Night” and a local citizen opened his manor to the students for the night. He called himself a mage, something that you rolled your eyes at as magic has been rare in this world since the faeries left it half a century ago. But you kept that to yourself, if he wanted to play make-believe, then so let him.

Students were already lining up outside the decorated manor when the two of you arrived. You hand your keys off to a valet and walk towards the door, hand in hand with Genny. Her excitement buzzed through her like a shot of tequila.

When you cross over the threshold of the manor you are genuinely surprised at the decorations of the place. The ballroom had been cleared out and a live band was playing music for students to dance to. There was a bar on the far end of the ballroom serving drinks and small snacks. A doorman takes your jacket away from you before you grab Genny’s hand and head to the dance floor.

Many of Genny’s old friends soon recognize her and start to surround you two, the night is still young and the sound of laughter soon fills the air. You and Genny danced the night away until you both were sweaty and out of breath. Your make-up had gone a bit smudged but you didn’t mind. It was nearing midnight when most of the students started to leave and you pulled Genny away for one last surprise.

Genny started to slow down a bit, the exercise of the dance sapping away her energy. She pulls through though and follows you to a winding staircase that leads to one of the roofs of the manor. The spring air chills you to your bone, but it is well received after the sweat you have built up. You help Genny sit down before you sit down next to her, the shingles of the roof poking through your dress in an uncomfortable way.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips when you look out to the vast countryside behind the manor. The stars twinkle as far as the eyes can see and from your advantage point, no trees are blocking the view either. Genny pants beside you as she calms herself down from the climb and leans her head against your shoulder.

“I am so glad you made me come to this dance,” She whispers as she looks out to the stars.

“Me too,” You agree, you begin the absentmindedly swing your legs back and forth. Your heels come loose and slip from your feet and both you and Genny laugh at it.

“Gosh, I hope that didn’t hit anyone,” She continues to laugh as she cautiously peers over the side.

“Or else they’d have to smell my stinky feet, ewww!” You continue her joke.

Her laugh turns into a cough and your mood shifts to melancholy.

A shift in the winds tells you that her time will soon be up. “Genny,” You start. “My sister is going to be here soon.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, I have a huge family actually.”

“Well, tell me about your sister,” She smiles, head feeling heavier as she puts her full weight on your shoulder.

“She is really sweet, and a soft, kind-hearted soul. Just like you, I suppose.” You say.

Genny doesn’t reply and tears prick your eyes. When you turn your head you see Genny standing up with a smile, yet her body still remains on your shoulder. Behind her stands your sister, a reassuring smile and a gentle hand rest around Genny in a side hug.

“Your sister says that she’ll take great care of me,” She starts and looks at Death with a solemn smile. “Will she?”

“Yeah, she’s one of the best…” Your voice dips into a murmur as you feel your lips tremble.

Your answer is enough for her and she turns to leave. She seems to have remembered something as she turns back around and wraps her hands around your shoulders, her ghostly figure slightly falling through your physical form.

“I’ll see you again, right?” Genny asks, hope lines her figure and you can’t bear to see it fade.

“Yes,” You lie through your teeth. “Good-bye.”

She turns to leave with your sister, blissfully unaware of your last farewell. The sound of Death’s beating wings was the last thing you heard before it was just the barren countryside again. Genny’s body grows cold by your side as you pet her hair for the last time.

The manor staff came soon when you faked a scream and soon ambulances came and went with her body. You’re left in the aftermath of a romantic dream of confection and ribbons alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling numb.

“Hey, lady, if you’re going to stand here moping you can at least help out,” A staff member calls out and you snap out of your thoughts.

He hands you a few foldable chairs and tells you to put them up. You nodded along, not really having much else to do. You meander through the halls when you realize that he didn’t tell you where to put the chairs. It’s when you find yourself at a set of stairs that lead down towards the basement. And to you, it made all logical sense for humans to store their things in the basement.

You open the heavy double doors and descend further into the musky basement. Candles were lit on the stairs and its melted wax coats the edges as it lightens the path. When you get to the bottom, you’re greeted by the host of the party that you met earlier in the night.

“What are you doing here, girl!” He scolds.

You hold up the chairs, unaware of his tone. “Hi, Mr. Burgess. I’m helping with clearing up after the dan…” Your final word trails off as your eyes wander past his figure.

Behind him sits your brother and your jaw drops. Mr. Burgess tries to stand between you and him when he notices that your attention is no longer on him. Dream stands fully in his glass prison and you would have made fun of the fact that he was fully rocking out in his birthday suit if not for the situation at hand.

“Oh, what the fuck,” You whisper, dropping the chairs.

You breeze past Mr. Burgess and stand before Morpheus. Golden runes that surround his prison stop you short as if there was some sort of invisible force field. Your head whips around and faces your host again. He stands tall as he stares back.

“Why do you have my brother in a-a… fucking FISH BOWL!” Your words stumble out at the utter audacity of the situation, your hands moving around expressively.

Realization dawns on him and you realize that you made a mistake. “So, you are one of his family. That man warned me about your kind. Which one are you.” He seethes as he walks towards you.

“You face Defiance of the Endless,” You spit back at him.

You were in no mood to play, first, your friend dies in your arms and then you learn that Lucienne’s suspicions were right and that something did happen to your brother. This whole time he had been here under your feet while you were having fun. His clothes, tools, and dignity stripped from him as you drank enough sparkling cocktails to make Dionysus jealous.

The man scoffs at you and spits at your feet. “Oh please, and I thought that it was going to be hard. I’ve heard of you, little girl. They told me that you are nothing, a nobody. You have no realm, no powers, you are barely a god.”

You stay silent as he speaks, rage flushes through your body and your muscles tremble. His words rang true, but here you shall stand for your brother. He advances on you and you find that you have nowhere to go. A sharp pain burns across your cheek as his pierced cane comes into contact with your skin.

Your body follows the force as it throws you off balance. Your head cracks against the stone floor of the basement and a gasp leaves you. Your vision blurs from the hit and you feel warm blood sliding down your cheek like an unshed tear. In the distance of your mind, you hear Dream slamming his fist against his glass prison. You stand again, determined to not be bested by a mere mortal.

His cane comes down again like a whip, hitting your shins and then once again on the back of your knees. The blow forces you to kneel before him, and your cries of pain echo in your head. The coarse floor scratches at your palm but you keep your breath as even as you can.

“Is that all you got?” You sneer as you look up at him through your eyelashes.

His foot comes towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut right before the impact follows. Your body tumbles further away from Dream, but his slamming continues. You feel the wall behind you, its surface cooling down your heating body.

“Stop, I command you to stop!” Morpheus shouts, command muffled.

“Dream of the Endless commands you to stop,” You repeat your brother's words. You use the wall to brace yourself to stand on wobbling legs.

Iron fills your mouth and you spit it out back at Burgess’ feet, much like he did to you before. You grin when you see him grimace at the act. You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand, very unladylike, but between the three of you, who is going to judge?

A backhanded slap snaps your head to the side and another painful scream follows.

“Stop! Cease yourself or face my wrath!” Dream continues to scream as your vision blurs again.

“No, I can take it,” Your voice is coarse but the message is heard loud and clear.

“Oh, you can take it, hmm?” Burgess taunts and his cane jabs into your abdomen.

You feel like you couldn’t breathe, that no matter how much your mouth gaped open, oxygen didn’t fill in your lungs as you needed it to.

“I can take it,” You wheeze out again, another hit forces you back down and this time you don’t have the strength to get up again.

“I suppose one step higher than capturing an Endless is to kill one,” Burgess laughs on top of you. His heavy body straddles you and you feel his hands wrap around your neck.

Black dots swarm your vision like the expanding universe. Your nails claw at his hands, drawing blood, as your body tries its best to fight back. Burgess picks you up by the neck and slams your back down, stars waltz behind your eyelids and a brief vision of home comforts you. A ragged breath crawls through your throat before another slam into the ground silences you. Despite your efforts, your hands grow limp and you feel your body start to break down. It flakes away like spring cherry blossom petals as you take your last breath.

“No!” Dream’s scream is the last thing you hear.

Your consciousness fades to black and it is quiet for once. It’s odd to think that an immortal being can die, but it’s true. The only thing that differentiates it is that you could be reborn. Immortality is a fickle thing.

When you come back into consciousness, you can feel the Dreaming heal your soul. It wraps its warmth around you like a soft blanket and you finally feel safe enough to stop everything that ran through your mind. When you stretch out your limbs you realize that you weren’t in your human form anymore.

Your perception spans further and you can see new angles you haven’t seen before through your eyes. You wiggle your toes, or what you thought were your toes and feel soft and fertilizing soil below you. When you look down you notice that your legs have turned into the soft bark of a willow tree. Your arms shake and the reaching leaves of the tree shake from the action. You sigh and your bark groans and creeks under your deflation.

You soon become a welcomed resident in Fiddler’s Green, providing shade for the decreasing amount of dreamers that come to visit you. As the years pass, the Dreaming starts to die around you as Morpheus stays entrapped under the Burgess Manor. You stay as a tree, unable to move and help. Guilt eats you alive, leaving your core to rot from the inside out.

Lucienne comes to visit now and then, but as the castle starts to fall apart, she can’t find the time to come by anymore. Your days grow lonelier as Fiddler’s Green decides to leave the Dreaming as well. You stand on dry soil in a barren wasteland. Your inaction keeping you hostage like a ladybug in a spiderweb. The more you struggled, the harder you found it to keep your human consciousness.

So, you did the most human you could think of: you cried. Fitting, you thought to yourself, a weeping willow, well, weeping. Your tears came to fruition in the form of vibrant yellow blossoming flowers against the beige and cracking surroundings.

You stayed like that for the next 106 years. Your roots had grown so long that you could feel each corner of the dreaming, searching high and low for water to drink from. Soon, even that would run out. Another tear runs down your bark, your trunk growing deep grooves where the previous century of tears had carved. Despite all odds, your leaves were still vibrant and your flowers would change colors based on your mood. A trick that took you a few decades to learn.

The moon rises higher and higher over the horizon. You follow its path, counting the fragments to keep your mind from boredom. It split in half 15 years after Dream’s capture and every five years or so, another fragment separates from the moon. You counted 18 fragments this time around, the same as the day before, and the week before that. You yawn, the bark shaking as you do so and close your eyes to rest.

You wake to a soft hand on your bark just as dawn cracks. Your leaves shake in surprise as someone touches you. It takes a moment to reorientate yourself and when you look down from your height your breath hitches.

“Sister?” Dream calls out, his hand still on your bark.

Relief floods your system just as a soft breeze runs its fingers through your thin leaves. Your catkin flowers caress his skin when he smiles at you. Just as fast as relief has found you, guilt consumes you again. Morpheus has escaped, it had taken him 106 years and all you have done is stand here and do nothing. Your branches groan again, more flowers blooming in its wake as you weep again, and the individual petals turn a deep blue color.

Dream grabs one of your leaves gently as it tries to recede from his touch. “Y/N,” He calls out carefully. “I do not blame you for what happened 106 years ago.”

“I am touched by your sacrifice.” He pauses as he picks his next words carefully. “You were the only one who came to my side when I needed it.”

You still stay quiet but your petals slowly start to return to their yellow colors. Morpheus takes this as a good sign and continues.

“I love you, dear sister, I wish for you to never doubt that. If only I could give you a hug for all that you had done for me,” He prods and extends both of his hands outwards.

You purse your non-existent lips in thought, a very tempting offer. Why not try one more time, to be by your brother’s side? Your bark groans again and you concentrate. You try to remember the details of your human body. How did your hair look? How did you hold yourself? Did you have a mole on this side of your face?

Your leaves and branches start to shake and shrink in on themselves the more you think. You call in your roots and start to wiggle your toes. You think of your fingers and how they had done so much for you: the paintings you made, the pastries you baked. One last tear escapes down your raw skin and when you open your eyes again, you are looking at Dream through new eyes.

Morpheus comes into your space and wraps his steadying arms around you. You sob into his jacket until it becomes uncomfortable. Your throat is raw when you’re finally reduced to hiccups. Through it all, Dream is holding onto you, gently caressing your hair the way you have liked since you were born.

“I like this new hair of yours,” He comments as he pulls at a few strands of your hair. It’s longer this time around and kept the same emotional properties your flowers had. It changes from blue to green as your mood shifts.

“Great, now I can’t hide my emotions anymore.” You mutter weakly to yourself as it changes to red at your slight annoyance.

Dream chuckles above you and gives you one final tight squeeze.

“Welcome home, sister,” He whispers. You take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs thoroughly.

“Yes, I am home.”

I did a surprising amount of research for this fic. Apparently, the first woman to attain a driver's license was like in 1900 so that's why Genny was so surprised you could drive. Also, I would not recommend driving in a 1916 vehicle? Looks like it could explode at any minute.

This was a request! And requests are open, just go to my page and hit that button to submit one.

If you do submit a request, it may take me a bit to get to them just because of the nature of it and my classes are starting to get ready for finals. (Your girl is graduating this semester woohoo!)

I will see you in the next fic!

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #siblings #sibling reader #platonic relationships #platonic #x reader #angst with a happy ending #angst #reincarnation

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queen-of-deans-booty · 9 months

Text

Enough is Enough

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Goddess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: character deaths, reader being forced to kill, revenge kills, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Heyy! Can you write a one shot of team free will x powerful demigod reader? Where the reader is the daughter of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades and blessed by the Gods and the Team need her help for some case and they summon her for help and in the end Dean or Sam fall in love her?

Summary: Sam and Dean take on a case where people are killing themselves after what appears to be a ghost touching them when in reality, something much deadlier is attacking them.

Square Filled: summoning a spirit for @spnclassicbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

“Okay, Sammy, tell me one more time what we’re dealing with,” Dean says as he drives into Victorville, California.

“Two people have died under mysterious circumstances. They were normal people with normal jobs until one day they suddenly went crazy and killed themselves. None of them had prior indications that they were mentally ill or had depression.”

“Yeah, that could be our thing.”

“I already called the sheriff. He’s expecting us.” Dean heads into town and stops at the local sheriff’s station. Both brothers get out and enter the station where the sheriff greets them. “Sheriff. I’m Agent Lennon and this is my partner Agent McCartney.”

“Thank you for coming out here.”

“Of course. What else can you tell us about this case?”

“I can do you one better. I can show you. Follow me.” The sheriff brings Sam and Dean to his desk where footage from a CCTV camera is already pulled up. “Go ahead. Press play.”

Sam sits down and presses play to start the video. There is a highway with passing cars and a diner on the other side of the road where someone is waiting for something. Thirty seconds pass before Sam sees something glitch in and out of the frame. If someone were scrolling through the footage, they would miss it but Sam knows what he’s looking for. As soon as the mysterious object passes through the frame, the man starts screaming in terror. He pulls at his hair and runs into traffic where he gets hit by a car.

“Poor son of a bitch,” the sheriff sighs.

Sam rewinds the footage and stops on the figure that glitches into the frame. There isn’t a good angel for it but Sam knows it’s the shape of a woman.

“Was there footage of the first murder?” Dean asks.

“No. It happened inside the victim’s home.”

“If you get any more footage, please let us know immediately.”

“Sure thing.”

Sam and Dean finish up at the police department and leave together.

“Did you see the ghost?”

“I’m surprised the sheriff didn’t.”

“We should check the diner for any signs of EMF.” Sam and Dean drive over to the spot where the second victim killed himself. CSI and the police already investigated here, so the place is pretty empty. No one wants to go to a diner where someone saw a ghost and freaked the fuck out. “Why don’t you see what you can find out? I’ll talk to the staff inside.”

Dean leaves his brother’s side and heads inside while Sam takes out his EMF reader. He walks down the entire length of the parking lot but not a single abnormality shows up on the reader. It doesn’t take long for Dean to finish talking to the staff inside and he joins his brother’s side when he’s done.

“Anything?”

“They didn't see a thing. It was too dark to see if there was another person. All they knew is that he came in by himself, ate, and left. Minutes later, he went crazy and killed himself. What about you?”

“Nothing. There is no evidence that there was any ghost here. It’s weird, we definitely saw a ghost on film.”

“What else could it be?”

While Sam and Dean ponder on that questions, two teenage kids hang out at a grocery store on the other side of town. They’re known as the troublemakers of the town. They love getting into fights, trashing people’s houses, skipping school, and causing headaches for most of the adults in town. Dylan and Jaden are best friends who feed off each other’s energy so there is no stopping them whenever they come together.

Dylan is resting on the hood of his car while Jaden is smoking next to him. They’re in the mood for a little fucking around with the locals in town. The best kind of people to fuck with are the tourists and people who pass by their town because they don’t know the boys’ reputation. Someone new moved to town not that long ago making him the perfect target for the boys’ torment.

The man is walking out of the store since his shift has finished and walks toward his car. Dylan nudges Jaden with his foot and gestures to the employee. Jaden takes a deep inhale from his cigarette and flicks it onto the ground.

“Melinoe, come out come out wherever you are,” Jaden smirks.

You emerge from the shadows with a look of hatred on your face. Dylan and Jaden smirk and point to the man walking to his car.

“I should kill you two instead,” you glare.

“Do that and you won’t ever see your heart again. Now go kill the bitch before we kill you,” Dylan threatens.

If someone is in possession of your heart, they have the ability to use you in any way they wish. If someone were to pierce your heart, then you’ll die a slow and painful death. These two idiot kids got ahold of your heart and now have power over you that no human should ever have.

You walk over to the man who has no clue what’s about to happen to him. You’re all for killing people and bringing their souls to the Underworld for punishment but only those who deserve it. The people you’ve killed never deserved it despite the two kids thinking they did. You walk past the man and touch his shoulder to let your powers flow through him. The man screams in terror and pulls at his hair as he is driven mad. He carries self-defense weapons to protect himself which he uses to kill himself.

You turn back to the shadows when you’ve done your part.

The next morning, Sam and Dean show up at the grocery store parking lot where the man killed himself. Dean talks to some of the staff while Sam takes out his EMF reader to check for paranormal signs. Much like the last scene, nothing shows up.

“Dean, this isn’t making any sense.”

“The store manager says we can look at his security footage. He got a good view of the parking lot. Come on.”

Sam and Dean walk inside the store and meet the sheriff at the manager’s office where the cameras are. The manager plays back the footage to the right after the man left for his shift. There are two kids by a car in the background that are illuminated by the light pole, and they’re watching the man walk to his car. A ghostly figure walks into the frame and they gesture for it to attack the man.

They watch as the figure walks past the man who then freaks out. He takes one of his self-defense weapons and kills himself with it.

“Who are those two kids?” Dean asks. The manager rewinds the footage and zooms in on both of them, getting a clear view of them. “Sheriff, could you identify them?”

“Yeah. I’ll have my men look into it.”

The sheriff immediately sends the footage over to his IT department who comes back with both of their identities and their addresses. Sam and Dean will take over from here, so they head over to Dylan’s house in hopes that he’s home. Dean and Sam walk up to the front door and knock three times. Five minutes later, Dylan answers the door with Jaden behind him.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Are you Dylan and Jaden?”

“What’s it to you, old man?” Sam and Dean push themselves inside their house and look around. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Where is she?” Dean asks and shoves his FBI badge into his face. “Where are you hiding her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The woman you use to kill people. Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave before I call the police on you. Do you even have a warrant to be in here?”

Dean is about to tear him a new one when you appear from the shadows in the corner of the room. Sam and Dean take out their guns with iron bullets and aim them at you. Dylan and Jaden step back when they see the weapons to stay out of the line of fire.

“Who the hell is she?”

“Those bullets won’t do anything to me.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the thing they keep hostage to kill others with,” you glare at them.

“Kill them,” Dylan orders.

This is it. This is your way out. At this moment, you don’t care about your heart or where they might have hidden it. The fact is, they don’t have it on them right now.

“No, I don’t think I will. I’m done being your bitch. It’s time you get a taste of your own medicine.”

You disappear from sight and allow them a few seconds of pure terror of not knowing where you are. You appear behind them and place your hands on both of their heads. You let your magic flow through their brains ten times harder than you did with the other victims. Almost immediately, they begin screaming their heads off in fear.

They didn’t know it, but they were declared dead the second they possessed your heart.

They claw at their hair, run their nails down their faces so hard it draws blood, and smash their heads against the walls multiple times. Dylan did it so much that his skull split open and his brain and blood spattered everywhere. Both men slid to the floors when they died, and you turn to the brothers who have shocked looks on their faces.

“My name is Melinoe but I go by Y/N these days. I am the Goddess of Ghosts, Nightmares, and Funerary Rites. I am the daughter of Persephone and Zeus and Hades combined. I’d like your help finding out where my heart is so I can be free.”

Sam and Dean call in the double suicide before leaving the scene as fast as possible. You join them in their motel room to talk about what you’re here for and what it means to have someone possess your heart.

“We’ve met some Greek Gods in our time but never someone like you. We’ve met your father.”

“Which one?”

“Zeus.”

“Despite what people say, Zeus is worse than Hades. Zeus got jealous of Hades and banished him to the Underworld.” Sam and Dean look at each other in silence. “Look, I know you think I’m a killer but I’m not a bad person. I only kill those who deserve it so I can guide their souls into the Underworld to exact their punishment. Those two idiots made me kill innocent people.”

“How did they do that?”

“They have my heart. I shouldn’t have killed them. They hid it so I wouldn’t grab it and leave them.”

“We’ll find it,” Sam smiles.

“Thank you. I’m not all bad, you know. I can reunite people with their dead loved ones for a few minutes. Cemeteries are my favorite places to hang out in.”

You, Sam, and Dean do some research on where Dylan and Jaden could have hidden your heart. They would have chosen a place where no one would find it. A place that could be abandoned or a cave. There aren’t a lot of spots like that around town so it’s easy to compile a list.

“What will happen if your heart is destroyed?”

“I’ll die. I had ownership of my heart for thousands of years until one day I met a man. A man who heard the rumors about me and what I can do. This was during the time when Greek Gods and Goddesses were roaming Earth. He’s the sole reason why I believe in love, but he’s also the reason why I believe in heartbreak. He stole my heart and it’s been passed around ever since.”

“Greek Gods were around in 900 BC. That’s a long time to go without your heart.”

“You’re telling me,” you scoff.

“I promise to get your heart back for you.”

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly.

“Okay, I have a list of three places where your heart can be,” Dean says. “The abandoned factory outside of town, the old Well House on someone’s farm, and a cave in Long Beach. Though, I don’t think they’d drive two hours for something so precious as a Goddess’ heart.”

“Let’s check the factory first. These guys craved power. I don’t think they would allow my heart to reside on someone else’s property.”

“Factory it is.”

You three head thirty minutes to the factory outside of town. Before you step foot out of the car, you can feel the power your heart holds. It’s here and it’s calling to you. You don’t have to search the entire property because you know exactly where it is. Your heart is inside a dirty box and you scoff at the treatment it got.

“Wow, never seen that before,” Dean mutters.

You grab your heart and it glows bright green at being connected to the person it belongs to. You move the top of your dress to the side and allow your heart to be absorbed back into your body. Your entire body glows bright green before dimming down, and you turn to the brothers with a smile.

“I can’t thank you two enough for what you’ve done for me. Please allow me to repay you back. Is there a dead loved one you’d like to see again?”

“No, we’re good. I just want to get out of this God-forsaken town,” Dean chuckles.

Sam looks at his brother in thought and gets an idea.

“Actually, there might be.”

It doesn't matter where a person is buried or where they ended up after death. You have the power to draw their souls back to you for a short amount of time to give a person a chance to talk to them. Dean is shocked when you pull his mother and father from Heaven to allow him some time to talk to them. Sam never knew them, not in the way that Dean did, so he gives this moment to his brother.

“You must love your brother to let him have this,” you say to Sam.

You and he are off to the side to give Dean some time alone with his parents.

“He knew them better than I ever did,” he shrugs.

“Listen, I don’t have to be in the Underworld right now. Would you like some company for a while?”

A blush spreads across Sam’s cheeks at the thought of spending more time with you.

“I’d like that.”

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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rogersideup · 9 months

Text

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 15

Everything will be Okay

series masterlist

Previous part: Cinnamon Roll Next Part: Crawl Home to You

Word Count: 6,979

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

"This is the worst thing I've ever done" Steve complained, puffing out short winded breaths as he worked at the table opposite you.

He decided he wanted to learn how to bake bread after watching you do it so many times. The patiences and techniques behind the art intrigued him, and there was no one better to learn from than you, the best of the best.

You laughed as you watched him struggle to knead the dough on the floured counter facing yours. His cheeks were turning pink and his dough was still shaggy and lumpy, he was completely envious of yours already becoming smooth and bouncy. "Don't look at mine, it's unfair to you. I have experience, comparison is going to kill all your confidence."

"My arms hurt" Steve emphasized.

"Your arms pulled an in-flight helicopter into the top of a building, and single handedly ended World War II. I'm pretty sure they can handle an artisan loaf, Baby." You smiled.

"How long have we been kneading?" He puffed out.

You peaked at the clock, "mmmm, 3 minutes."

"How long do we need to do this?"

"Usually 10"

"Okay, well, you must have arms of steel because this is impossible."

"I believe in you!" You encouraged him. "Use the heels of your palms, push the dough out then pull it back. You can even go diagonally, side to side."

"You're not even out of breath?" He noted in disbelief. "I feel like I'm asthmatic again."

"Do you need an inhaler? I'm sure I can find you one" A giggle slipped past your lips.

"You're a super soldier." Steve stated, his arms coming to a stand still to take a break. "There's no way someone can just do this."

"Here, let's swap. I got a good start on this one so it'll be easier for you." You said walking over to his side of the table, and taking over his dough while he moved over to yours.

"See, much easier. Now I'm a bread master!" He exclaimed, working with your dough that was already almost completely smooth rather than his shaggy mess.

"I knew you could do it! Great job, Stevie" You smiled.

"Thank you, thank you." He accepted your compliment.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as the sound of music filled your ears, you were obviously very concentrated on fixing the monstrosity of a dough pile Steve had left you.

It was sticking to every square inch of your hands, yet also incredibly crumbly and dry. You had no idea how he even went about creating such a substance, but you sure as hell were going to make it work, and you definitely weren't going to say anything about it.

He knew it wasn't correct, it was written all over your face but that made him happy. Watching you try to work with the crumbly goo with furrowed eyebrows and a smile that you tried to hold back warmed his heart, you were always so kind and encouraging.

"So..." Steve broke the silence.

"So?" You acknowledged.

"I was thinking."

"Oh gosh, that's scary..." You joked.

"Our anniversary passed not too long ago..." He mentioned, causing you to look up at him with a fond look on your face.

"That was six months ago" You pointed out, unsure if not too long was the proper description of how much time had actually passed.

Once all of the scary bumps that came along with establishing a new relationship were smoothed out, unlike the dough beneath your hands, your relationship with Steve was so smooth it glided by effortlessly and fast.

The concept of time since the blip in general felt quite odd, it felt like five years had passed by in the blink of an eye, yet the way of living with only half the population was so normal and routine now you couldn't imagine a time in which you lived a normal life before the blip.

That's exactly how you felt about your time with Steve as well. He moved in permanently next door, then before you knew it his lease was up and he moved in to your house. The spaces that were once yours were now yours and Steve's.

Four and a half years deep into your official relationship with the man and you couldn't even remember a time in which his easel wasn't always displaying a half completed work of art in the corner of the living room and there wasn't a Captain America suit tucked away in the very back of the closet, hiding away in a garment bag.

The two of you created the simple, care free life of your dreams. One in which the biggest struggle you faced on the daily basis was keeping the bakery stocked despite the ever growing crowds, and missing Steve whenever he was away on business to the compound in New York.

"So our anniversary is coming up!"'He enthused.

You laughed at his change of words, "only six months away!"

"Can you believe that four and a half years ago I waltzed in here for a cookie, and that simple choice single handedly changed both of our lives?" He questioned.

"Wow, kneading bread makes you so philosophical." You noted. "What a great choice you made, just goes to show that cookies really are the better part of life."

"You're the better part of my life, sunflower." He purposely cheesed causing you to look back up at him once more.

"How sweet" You acknowledged. "If my hands weren't covered in dough I'd reach up and boop your nose."

He laughed while he continued kneading your loaf that he was definitely going to claim as his now. "Maybe we could spend our half-anniversary in New York?"

Steve was going through a phase in which you could've never ever predicted, he hated going up to the compound now. He dreaded work trips, he hated how cold his room in the compound always seemed to feel, he despised all the memories that came to mind when he walked around.

From what you could understand through multiple conversations about this, he just didn't like being away from you. Being away from you when the blip happened and having no control over your arrest traumatized him in a way he would never admit, but in a way you could see in his eyes every time he had to leave town.

Regardless of what it was that made him resent the compound so much, you knew that it was a whole lot easier for him when you tagged along. So now he found a lot of creative reasons to try and drag you to New York.

Each reason was more creative than the last, and you said yes every single time he asked. At this point in your relationship, you were pretty sure you've spent over four months time in New York and it was starting to feel like a second home.

"You know you don't really need a reason to get me to New York right?" You smiled. "I'd love to spend our half anniversary with you, and I'll go with you to wherever you need to go."

"But coming up with a reason is half the fun" Steve admitted.

"Is this fun?" You questioned, motioning to the dough in your hands.

"This is exhausting!" He answered honestly, earning a laugh from you.

"You know what I love about going to the compound with you?"

"That Nat is there?" He questioned.

"That I get to learn about all the cool things you do for once. It's like going to the Avengers bakery and kneading the Captain America loaf!" You explained. "But yeah, I do love seeing Nat."

Steve giggled at your analogy, loving every second of watching your skillful hands try their absolute hardest to make his faulty dough pile work. "I'm always worried that you might be bored whenever I drag you with me."

"Bored?!" You emphasized. "My love, I'm a civilian in the Avengers compound. There's absolutely nothing boring about that."

"Okay, so next week you'll come with me?" He asked just to make sure.

"Of course" you reassured.

"Woohoo!" He shook his shoulders and hips in a little happy dance, hands sill focused on the dough. "Best day ever!"

You laughed at his response, "if this is the best day ever, then I think we should get out more."

"Okay, now is your chance to be honest with me." Steve prompted. "Does that dough lump have any potential at all of becoming anything close to a loaf of bread?"

"You know I love you very, very much?" You smiled, batting your eyelashes.

"Of course I do." Steve giggled.

"We're gonna have to squish this." You told him honestly. "But the bright side is that you're doing so well kneading that loaf, it'll be the prettiest, glutinous loaf to ever come out of this kitchen!"

"You said that so nicely, I'm not even upset about it" Steve shrugged, prompting you to smile.

You walked over to him and rocked up on your tippy toes before smacking a kiss to his cheek. "You're wonderful, we'll try again soon."

Before you knew it, you were right back in New York, smack dap in the compound. Whenever you were here you completely understood that Steve was here to work, so you never expected him to keep you entertained by any means. So you always brought your laptop and took care of business from the comfort of his room or the living room depending on what him and Nat were up to that day.

And 100% of the times you stepped foot into the Avengers home, whoever was lingering around always asked for you to bake them something, and you were always happy to say yes.

This particular night, Nat requested a chocolate chip cheesecake. After going to the store to get everything you needed, making all the parts and popping it in the oven, you started to do the dishes.

Muscular forearms wrapped around your stomach from behind, and the front of Steve's body warmly pressed against your back.

"How's it going, baby?" He questioned.

"Good, almost done in here." You responded while enjoying every second of his embrace. "How are you? Sleepy?"

"So tired." He confirmed. "I have a few hours of work left to get ready for the support group tomorrow but I think Nat is wrapping up for the night. You'll be okay?"

"Of course, I still have to input payroll and enter the supply delivery invoice for the bakery so I have plenty to do." You grinned, wiping your hands off so you could turn around to face him. When you did, you couldn't help but to admire him. His hair, his cute outfit, the fond yet tired look in his eyes. Reaching up, you squeezed his shoulders to try and relax his tense posture as his hands made their way to your hips. "You're so beautiful."

His cheeks turned pink before dropping his head onto your shoulder. "You're beautiful-er."

"Why does it have to be a competition? Just accept your handsomeness and move on" You giggled at his shyness, even after four and a half years together.

"Becauseeeee" he complained. "I'm lucky to have you, and I'm so happy you're here. Then, you're always really nice to me and all the people here that I love and I just can't even process how sweet you are."

You smiled before you both mutually leaned in for a kiss. "I promise you that I feel like the lucky one."

"Impossible." He shook his head in denial with his cheeks stilly adorably rosy. "Thank you for baking for us."

"Anytime, you know I love it."

Steve nodded in agreement. "I'll see you in a few hours?"

"I'll be here." You gave his shoulders another good squeeze. "We'll get those pretty eyes of yours some good rest."

By the time Steve finished up work and made his way back to the living quarters, it was already way past the bedtime he subconsciously made for himself to keep up with living with a baker. 10 at night felt like he had pulled an all nighter, and it seems as though that's how you felt as well considering he found you and Nat asleep on the couch.

Empty plates on the coffee table with Oreo crumbs being the only evidence of the cheesecake you made hours prior, and a movie that Steve had never even heard of playing on the TV provided the only source of light in the big space.

You and Nat had obviously gotten close and comfortable with each other, the shared blanket across your laps and your head plunked over onto Nat's shoulder with her head on top of yours made Steve smile and feel endlessly happy.

As much as you loved Nat, Steve knew Nat needed every drop of love and friendship you could give her. You both knew she was struggling ever since the blip, she spent every waking moment trying to monitor the world and find a solution. Steve didn't even know she was capable of settling down enough for even just a few hours to be able to fall asleep while watching a movie in the first place. You weren't just his sunflower, but everyone's who was lucky enough to earn your love.

Though he hated to break up the adorable scene in front of him, he was just as tired as the two of you evidently were and knew he should get you to bed.

He started by waking up Nat considering you were stuck beneath her. She was a light sleeper so it didn't take more than gently shaking her arm to wake her up, and she came to her senses quickly enough to immediately recognize what Steve was about to do.

"Good morning." Nat grinned, not lifting her head from the top of yours.

"Morning." Steve smiled. "Any chance I could get my girl back so I can send you two off to bed?"

"No. She's mine now." Nat denied. "Shes so cute and cuddly like a little puppy."

"You can have her back in the morning, but if she doesn't get some real sleep she gets a little grumpy." Steve bargained.

"Fine, but she's mine tomorrow. We're gonna go run some errands and grab lunch together."

"That sounds great, you could use a few hours away from this place." Steve encouraged.

"Just for that comment, I'm staying home." Nat joked.

"I will literally pay for both of you to go get your nails done if that means you'll get some fresh, non recirculated air." Steve sassed.

"A manicure and I get to take your girl out? Sign me up." She continued joking.

"The only conditions are that you go get some sleep and let me have nighttime custody of her so that she can get some sleep too."

"You're such a dad." She stated while carefully nudging your head off of her shoulder, then slowly standing up when she had successfully moved you off of her.

"Can I get you anything before you head off to bed?" Steve checked in.

"No, I'm okay. Thank you." She approached him and squeezed his shoulder before he just pulled her in for a hug anyways. "Goodnight, Rogers."

"Night, Romanoff." He reciprocated before letting go and she walked off into her room.

Now, he had you. His precious little lump on the couch. The dishes on the coffee table could be taken care of in the morning, and the TV would auto shut off in an hour or two. So he picked you up and held you tightly in his arms, and you immediately snuggled into neck.

He could tell you woke up at some point considering you started leaving little kisses to his exposed skin before he made it to his room. You were already in your pajamas ready to go, so he gently laid your down on the bed before he changed into some pajama shorts and brushed his teeth before laying down next to you.

Surprisingly, you were still awake and quick to pull the blankets over the two of you as you settled into each other. Appreciating the warmth of his soft bare skin, you laid your head on his chest and wrapped your arm tightly around his stomach, hand resting on the side of his rib cage.

You placed a little kiss to his collar bone before propping yourself up a bit on your arm to spark up a conversation you needed to get off your mind before you could truly get some restful sleep.

"How was the rest of your day, honey?" You questioned as one of his hands slipped up the back of your crewneck, the other drew little circles onto your hip.

"It was okay, pretty routine." He responded softly. "How's Nat doing?"

"That poor girl needs to get a life away from all of this." You sighed.

"I know" Steve nodded in agreement. "It's really hard to take a step back when you feel directly responsible, but it's not healthy. I've been encouraging her to get out more but she doesn't listen."

"I invited her to stay with us in Greenwood in a few weeks, hopefully she takes me up on that." You moved your hand up to his chest.

"That would be really fun." Steve grinned. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Mhm, I mostly worked the whole time though." You admitted. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something before we sleep."

"What's going on?" He asked, you could tell he was paying a little closer attention now.

"So I ran some numbers on profit and what not, and just for shits and giggles I reached out to my lender and contractor to see if this was even a possibility when I had the idea but now that it's looking very possible, I wanted to see how you felt about this..."

"About what?" He raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

"What would you think about me opening a second location of the bakery?" You asked.

His face immediately lit up in a big smile. "Darling, that's incredible! You should absolutely do it if you feel comfortable enough."

"I do feel really good about it." You confirmed. His happy response made your heart soar. When you first opened Nice to be Kneaded, your last partner ridiculed you every single day. He thought the idea of owning a business would simply be too much of a challenge for you. He told you that you'd never succeed, that it would go under and cause debts for the rest of your life. Though you were at a point in your relationship with Steve where you never doubted his ability to be a kind person, his kindness still made you happy every single day. "The reason I really wanted to ask you is because I was advised the best location to break ground in would be New York."

His big smile grew even wider, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with adorable smile lines. "Are you for real?"

"Yeah" you giggled at his response.

"That makes me so happy!" He pouted his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm so proud of you."

"So I take it that you think this is a good idea?" The smile never left your face.

"I think it's the best idea you've ever had." He exaggerated.

"Then I guess I'll give it the green light first thing tomorrow morning." You settled the issue then settled back into his body.

The two of you talked for a little while about what life would look like with another bakery in New York. Both of you traveled back and forth so often now that dividing your time between two places was already second nature. He even pitched getting the two of you an apartment somewhere between the city and the compound so you both felt more at home when away from Greenwood. Though you loved the idea, you encouraged him to let all these thoughts settle for a day or two until you had a better idea on the logistics of this new endeavor. Besides, it was already late and you were both tired, there was nothing you could even arrange until the morning.

Though you felt settled and completely relaxed snuggled up to him, you played with his hair and tried to get him to relax too. You could feel his tension, but it was normal. No matter how exhausted he was, if he was at the compound his mind was busy and never quite turned off. His thoughts shifted from the happy thoughts of a future where the two of you hopped from bakery to bakery, big city Avenging to a small town simple life to something that had nothing to do with the sweet girl in bed giving him the most delightful cuddles he could've ever wanted.

You knew he was enjoying spending time with you even if his mind was up in the clouds, his hand that never stopped drawing shapes into your back told you that loud and clear.

"What are you thinking about, love?" You asked.

He let out a sigh and his eyes never left the ceiling, then his lips pressed into a straight line, then a forced grin and he finally looked at you. "What do we do if we can't find a way to undo what Thanos did?"

"What do we do," You motioned to the two of you "or what do the Avengers do?"

"Both. Either." He said, desperate to hear the right answer he couldn't find.

"Well I think both have the same answer." You shrugged. "Acceptance, then moving on."

He gave you the most adorable stink eye you've ever seen, so cute you had to hold back a giggle. "Why does everyone say that?"

"You preach it every time you hold a support group, no?" You questioned.

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Civilians aren't responsible for what happened, they deserve to live their lives exactly how they would if this never happened." He explained.

Whenever he spoke about the situation, you could feel a genuine pain in your chest. His feelings about the snap were like a rollercoaster. Some days, he could see the benefits, he could almost understand why Thanos did what he did. He could go about his day with acceptance, go to sleep with the intention of continuing to rebuild tomorrow. Then sometimes he'd wake up that next morning feeling the weight of every blipped person on his shoulders. As if he was the one who decided this needed to happen. That weight seemed to double every time he was in New York.

So with an ache in your heart, you tried to put a bandage over his. "Right now are you looking for the truth, or are you looking for reassurance?"

He groaned at your level-headedness, before shoving his face into your neck. "I'm looking for anything or anyone to just tell me it's going to be okay."

Understanding now that he needed reassurance instead of actual logical advice, you caressed the back of his head with your hand and used your other arm to hold him safe and sound against you. "Of course it's going to be okay, sweet boy.

"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be so... grim, I just- I have to be strong all day every day for everyone else and sometimes you're the only one who can be strong for me." He admitted.

You kissed the top of his head a few times before providing the words he probably really needed to hear. "Life was okay yesterday, and the day before that, and it'll continue being okay tomorrow, and every day after that just like it has been for the past five years. Nobody blames you for what happened, and all of you guys deserve to move on too, not just civilians. The ground is still under your feet, the sky is still above your head and I'll never leave your side. The sun and moon are still taking turns, so I'm pretty confident when I say that everything is fine."

"That was great" Steve mumbled into your neck.

"Yeah? You feel any better?" You questioned with a smile.

"Mhm, I'm gonna use that in the support group tomorrow."

You smiled, though he couldn't see it before squeezing the back of his neck. "I love you, you're not going to bring back half the population from bed."

"I love you too, should I get up?"

"Go to sleep" You whispered directly into his ear, earning his sweet laugh that you loved so much.

"You first, traitor." Steve said playfully.

"Traitor?! Why am I a traitor?" You asked, feigning offense.

"You we're cuddling Natasha and not me." Steve fake cried.

You laughed before stating "Excuse me?! You've kissed Nat before, so I don't want to hear anything about my cuddles, sir!"

"Ugh?!" Steve was immediately taken back. "She kissed me and it was for a mission! Don't even start with that!"

You couldn't help but continue laughing at how flustered that statement made him. "Poor, Stevie! Your cheeks are so pink."

"I miss 10 seconds ago when you didn't bring that up." He pouted, a smile prevailing past his attempts to pretend like this conversation wasn't funny. "It was a life or death escape situation and we've never done anything romantic since then, okay?"

"I'm not bothered, baby" You continued smiling while prying his hands away from covering his face. "Were your bothered by our cuddles?"

"No, not at all." He denied. "I actually thought it was really adorable, I was just joking."

"And I think it's really cute that you and Nat shared a smooch" You pinched his cheek between two fingers.

"She implied that I was a bad kisser, by the way." Steve giggled. "So, neither of us enjoyed that experience."

You laughed at the confession before cooing, "awww poor, Stevie. Did that hurt your pride?"

"It wasn't a fair assessment, I wasn't ready for it." He defended himself.

"Exactly, you're a great kisser." You smoothed over the review that obviously stuck around with him for a while. "I know from experience!"

"Thanks, Baby. I appreciate your input on the matter." He gave your hip a nice squeeze.

"I'll be sure to talk to Nat about it in the morning to try and sway her opinions on it ." You joked.

"Absolutely do not do that" His eyebrows raised in horror.

You laughed once more before cupping his face and laying a long one on him. "I would never."

"Good, cause I think the sleepiness has taken over the both of our brains and made us a little crazy." He smiled.

You rested your head back onto its rightful spot on his shoulder, your hand rested over his heart and his free hand that wasn't on your back lovingly wrapped around your wrist. "Are you going to be able to shut your brain off long enough to fall asleep?"

"Of course" He appeased your worries about him. "I always sleep well when you're with me. You're like a little sleeping pill, the second you fall asleep on me, you put me to sleep too."

"Cheese ball" You poked fun at him with a content smile as you closed your eyes and wrapped the blankets tighter around the both of you.

"I might be cheesy, but I always will be. And I'm proud of it!" He agreed.

"I love it so much." You admitted. "And I love you so much."

"I love you too." He kissed the top of your head. "Goodnight, Sunflower."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

Not even two whole minutes of silence and attempts at sleeping went by before Steve gasped.

"Wait... are you asleep?" He asked, using his hands to dramatically shake you. "Wake up! This is important!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" You alerted his urgency. "Jeez dude, you're scrambling my brain."

"Oh good! You're awake!" He said. You didn't have to see his face to know he was wearing a big sarcastic smile. Steve's favorite hobby was definitely being a little shit.

"What a blessing." You mumbled.

"I forgot to ask you out on a date tomorrow night!" He enthused.

"Sorry dude, I think we're better just as friends." You carried on the tradition of your favorite inside joke.

"Sooooooo... should I cancel the engagement ring?" He quipped.

Recently the two of you were talking about getting married a lot, and if there was two things you both agreed on it's that a marriage was definitely in the books for the two of you soon, and that being engaged should never be truly be a surprise. Sure, time and place of the proposal as a surprise was the fun part, but both of you setting clear intentions and a well timed future that flowed at a comfortable pace for the two of you was important.

"A date sounds great!" You overly enthused.

"Great! I made dinner reservations without asking first so I'm glad you said yes."

"Risky business, Rogers." You smiled.

"Okay now go to sleep." He giggled.

"You first..." You poked his chest with very low effort.

When the morning came, you were up and out way before Steve was to start your morning with Nat. She wanted to get back to the compound before a planned call with affiliates of the Avengers, so the two of you snuck out before most of the compound was awake. Much like most mornings when you woke up before Steve, you covered him up with the blankets nice and snug, kissed him goodbye, and wished him a great day.

A nice long walk and chat followed by coffee, breakfast, and a nice relaxing manicure had Nat feeling brand new.

You dropped her off at the compound then left again to meet up with a friend of yours that lived pretty close by. While catching up on each others lives for a few hours, Steve called you.

Figuring he didn't realize you were busy, you denied the call to clue him in to text you instead. You often times did this if he needed to get through to you at work. But this time, your sunflower necklace lit up four times, a number that didn't have a code attached, then your phone rang again.

Figuring it was probably important, you excused yourself and quickly picked up the call.

"Hi, baby." You spoke timidly into the phone.

"Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt I know you're busy." He sighed. You could tell by his tone that his brain was fried.

"No worries, is everything okay?" You questioned.

"Remember Scott Lang? Ant-Man?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah I do." You nodded though he couldn't see you. "He was blipped right?"

"You see, that's the weird part." Steve puffed out a confused chuckle. "He's at the compound. He just... showed up."

"What?!" You said louder than you probably should, earning weird looks from strangers around you.

"Yeah, he was stuck in the quantum realm and now he's here, and we think-" He started but cut himself off to think about how he was going to phrase this without worrying you.

But the pause was deafening. "You think what?"

"I think you should make your way back here whenever you're done with your friend so we can talk about it more."

"That sounds so scary" You admitted.

"No, everything is fine. I promise." He reassured you.

"Should I come home right now?"

"No, baby, it's okay" He tried to calm you down once again. "Nothing to be anxious about. I just think we need to visit Tony and get a few other ducks in a line and I want to make sure I can get you someplace safe before we start looking into this more."

"So you guys found some good hope?" You asked, this time with a smile knowing that's exactly what Steve needed.

"A lot of hope and possibly the craziest pipe dream of all time, but we can get into that when you get here, okay?"

"Okay" You sighed. "Everyone's okay?"

"Everyone is fine." Steve smiled. "I want you to keep having fun with your friend. I'll see you later."

"See you soon. Love you"

"Love you too."

Though he tried his hardest to reassure you that everything was fine, you couldn't clear your head of the endless possibilities of what this could mean for the future of the whole universe. Those thoughts didn't even allow you to fully appreciate or give your undivided attention to your friend, so you called it a day as soon as you could. And when you arrived back at the compound, you immediately spotted Steve sitting outside on a bench.

You could tell his mind was occupied by a billion racing thoughts, his breathing was steady and there was a pinch in his brows.

Approaching slowly and sitting next to him, he wrapped you up in a side hug before kissing your temple and letting you go. "What's going on, Honey?"

He sighed in appreciation as your hand found its way to his back, rubbing long, firm strips up and down to comfort him. "We think we can time travel."

"What?" Your hand stopped in place.

"Go back in time before Thanos, get the stones from a bunch of different points in time, snap again." Steve explained like it was the most simple idea in the world.

"But..... how?" You we're blown away by the possibility, but the biggest part of you was terrified of what that meant for him, the world, and the entire future.

"Something to do with pym particles and a quantum tunnel, I don't really understand it." Steve explained, his mind was wandering miles away from him. "We have Bruce en route to work on that, but we're going to get Tony. Try to assemble the whole team again."

You didn't quite have the words at the moment, nor the time to even process this as a possibility. Whenever you couldn't quite grasp a concept that was much larger than you, but whenever you felt so tiny in the vastness of the universe, Steve was always there to put you on his shoulders and make you feel big again. "How do you feel about this?"

"I feel ready to just get it done." He explained.

"Are you scared?" You plopped your head down onto his shoulder, he nestled his cheek into the crown of your head.

"No" He denied softly. "Are you?"

"If you're not then I'm not" You smiled. That was a lie, but you always tried to not burden him with your own fears.

Though letting him out of your grasp and straight into battles often appeared in your own nightmares, you reeled in your feelings as to not disrupt his own peace. As often as you wanted to tell him to be careful, beg him not to do risky things like go to space in a ship being piloted by a raccoon to kill a titan that killed half the universe, you trusted him. His entire life was rich with risk assessment that only made him more and more successful the more he lived.

So if he wasn't scared, you'd try not to be either.

"Well, maybe that's a lie. Maybe I am a little scared." Steve retracted his statement.

"Well shit" You joked, earning a laugh from the sweet man.

"I'm scared it's not going to work, and I'm scared of putting anything on the line when my only goal for the future is a life with you." He admitted. "Everything else, I'm not scared of."

This time, your arms wrapped him up and didn't let him go. He was letting his Steve Rogers shine through in a place you typically only saw Captain America. Though he would argue that those two people were the same, you thought he was so very wrong.

Steve was still the little guy he once was. Sensitive and gentle, he'd cry over videos of cute animals doing cute things, decorate cookies with you and asked to be cuddled for as long as he could get you to stay still. But Cap... Cap was strong. Nothing could tear him down. When the uniform was on or public and teammates eyes were on him, he had to be the leader. He stood tall, refused to shed a tear regardless of any circumstance thrown his way. Everyone looked at him to guide them through.

You loved both versions of him, and both were truthful of his character, but it was also true that Steve was a version of himself he was only comfortable showing to the people he loved the most.

So you gave Cap the space he needed to be firm and strong, and gave Steve the space he needed to be vulnerable. Sometimes that looked like a little snuggle on a bench outside of the Avengers compound.

Very surface level and as deep down as could be, he knew that Cap couldn't be the fighter he was without you nurturing Steve. He was strong because you were compassionate, and everyday he amounted his power to you.

"I love you so very much," you started.

"But?" He raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the kicker.

"But doing this is exactly what you need in order for you to live the life you want." You explained. "You and I both know you'd live the entire rest of your life with guilt if the Avengers don't find a way to fix this. And though I don't agree that any of this is your fault, I know you feel that burden every single day. So in a certain way, I think for once, this is a great fight for yourself."

He sat and considered it for a second. "I don't have it in me to fight for myself, so I'm going to consider this a fight for you."

"A happy, relaxing future with you is all I want." You kindled his fire. Though you wished he could fight for himself, any incentive to get him through would work in this moment. "And i'd love to see Sam again and meet Bucky."

"I miss them so much" Steve stated, you could hear the sadness in his voice.

You lifted your head to give him a kiss. Your soft lips mingled for a little while before pulling away and resting your forehead against his. "Everything is going to be okay."

"I think so too" He agreed.

"And if it doesn't pan out the way you all hope, then I hope you know that everything will be okay that way too."

"Well that's not an option." He gently shook his head.

"Hard headed!" You pulled away and raised your hand to gently poke him right in the center of his forehead. He laughed, knowing his words would irritate you. "You drive me crazy!"

"I love driving you crazy" His smile prevailed.

"Really? I couldn't tell." You said sarcastically, feeling the effects of his contagious smile.

"And I'd love it even more if I can keep annoying you on our date tonight." He brought up.

"Stevie" Your face softened. "We can reschedule that if you need to, you know I understand."

"No, I definitely don't want to cancel that." He denied firmly. "Not to bring up the past or anything, but the last time I rescheduled a date it didn't turn out too well for me."

"Awwwww" You cooed. "Classic Cap history"

"Yeah, and we're rewriting it because I'm not doing that again" he said with a chuckle.

"I'm more than happy to help you out with that" You agreed, giving his leg a little squeeze. "How's Scott doing? I'm sure this is a lot to process."

"He seems to be doing alright, but that leads me to something Nat and I talked about that I wanted to present to you."

"What's up?"

"It's no secret that you're kind've one of the most amazing and comforting humans alive, and we were supposed to go home in 2 days but..." He took a moment to find the right words. "I'm my best when you're around, and whether you've noticed or not, everyone is happier when you're here. So we were wondering if you could stay a little longer just to kinda help keep spirits up. I know you have the bakery at home but it could be a pretty crucial part in saving half the world."

"I can't imagine I'd have any crucial part in any of that, but I'll stay for you alone." You giggled.

"Obviously I'll bring you home before the time travel happens because it's such unknown territory, I'd want you far away from the compound. But we're going to bring everyone we've got here, including Thor who we heard is going through a rough patch. I think your love would go a far way."

"And cookies" You grinned.

"Cookies would definitely help."

"Can Rocket eat chocolate chips?" You pondered.

"He's a raccoon, not a dog." Steve reminded you.

"That doesn't answer my question." You eyebrow raised. "What about Nebula? Do cyborgs eat food? Ooh! I know Bruce likes chocolate, and Tony likes hazelnut because they had those Ben and Jerry's ice cream flavors so maybe I'll make Nutella cookies so it's the best of both worlds. Do you know what Rhodey likes? I have Nat covered. Thor probably li-"

"Baby, Baby" Steve cut you off with a giggle. "Don't stress yourself out now. You're not here to take care of us, just keep being you"

"This is me." You laughed. "Have you ever seen me not like this?"

"You know what? That's fair." He agreed.

"Ooh! And I bet Nat knows exactly what Clint would want!" You chirped. "...I should call the bakery..."

Next Part: Crawl Home to You

Tag List: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @theroyalmanatee @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

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hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

Text

Take a Chance with Me || thirteen

*contains written parts

remember to comment and reblog

yn felt terrible. she didn't think that she had so many antifans. was this what SVT's ex-manager meant? was she truly ruining seventeen?

was this really what her antifans wanted her to think?

sure she felt terrible, but not int he way they wanted. she felt terrible because she couldn't show the world how much she loved seungcheol. and well... she had rights. she could date whoever she wanted and seungcheol could do the same. idols didn't belong to their fans.

they're so entitled.

"so when can we announce our relationship? i want a date, noona."

"i can't tell you that yet, yn. as your manager, my priority is your image. how can you think about launching a relationship while you're garnering so much hate!"

"think of it this way. i'm being hated now, but when i launch the relationship, there will be a ton of support. we can count 14 definite supporters, excluding cheol."

"i cannot allow you to do this, yn."

she slams the table and looks her manager dead in the eye.

"i waited for this for 5 years, noona. i will not wait any longer."

"i'll negotiate with my superiors."

"this sunday? that's like tomorrow!"

"i know cheol."

"how did you pressure them to that extent?"

"honestly i have no idea."

(yes it's supposed to be a black square.)

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

smau masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03

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rmoonstoner · 11 months

Text

***

Poisoned Empanadas

***

Pairing:

Moon Knight (Jake Lockley) x Spider!fem!reader

Spider-Man 2099 (Miguel O'Hara) x Spider!fem!reader

***

18+

Warnings:

Violence, strong language, mentions of death, possibility of people dying, mentions of depression, sexual themes, smut, whump, love triangle, love competition, warnings will change as the story develops.

***

Summary:

You get bad news on your anniversary. Jake is moving away, and he ends the relationship. He does it to keep you safe, or so he says, but you know there's another woman. You don't know who it is. He had come home on too many occasions smelling like hard liquor, jasmine, and cinnamon, a scent you didn't wear. You would find hair on his dirty clothes in the wash bin that wasn't yours or his. Every time you confronted him, he said it was for his undercover job for some powerful guy, and he always had women in his cabs after the bars let out on nights he used his cab for stakeouts. Like was he supposed to refuse rides to paying customers? His excuse was his proximity to others, and he assured you he never strayed.

You didn't believe him.

That still didn't explain the suggestive stains in underwear he never wore around you, which you washed for him. It didn't explain why he would fuck off for days or weeks at a time, and he never would tell you where he went, or what he was doing. He never sent you texts, emails, or letters. He never checked in, and just showed up unannounced, fully expecting to be let back into your life without question.

And you let him, every Goddamn time, because, when he was actually around, he treated you so well. Like a Goddess. He lavished you with expensive gifts and took care of your basic necessities. He had paid for the house you lived in, and the car you drove. You let him, because you loved him.

***

Chapter 1 - Empanada Gallega - Galicia, Spain

This pastry is flour based, and traditionally it is filled with tuna or chorizo, but you can use other meats or seafood depending on your location. Onions, salt, and pepper are a must. Modern day versions favor adding tomatoes. It is square-shaped or rounded with doughy decorations on the top.

***

Today was your technical three year anniversary. Technically speaking, it was three years since Jake had asked you out. You had a rocky history together, with a bunch of breakups and getting back together.

Your boyfriend, Jake Lockley, had been squirrely recently. You knew what was coming, but you didn't think he'd pick today, of all days, to pull this kind of stunt.

He decided, yet again, probably for the tenth time since you started dating three years ago, that now was a great time to break off the relationship.

Why?

He claimed he was going out on a mission, on which he would be gone for at least six months, maybe a year. He refused to tell you exactly where, but he narrowed it down to England when he handed you a P.O. Box address at a post office in London.

What the fuck was this?

Was this his idea of a gift?

A fucking address scrawled on a sticky note?

You barely said a word to him as he kept explaining how this new mission would be too dangerous to have you around. You scowled as he spoke, knowing full well it was bullshit. He'd seen the news recently. He saw how you went toe to toe with many of Spider-Man's foes. He even witnessed in person, while cabbing of course, a few of your assists for the Avengers.

He knew he was spouting nonsense, but kept it up, mostly because you didn't say anything back. You had checked out and he didn't even see it as he wove his own web of lies of omission and half truths. You had decided that you had grown tired of his excuses that he would be back, even though he was now explaining the break up procedure to you, again.

You could go on dates and see people. If it ended up being a spicy night, you could pursue your interests and have sex and be guilt free. He was saying it like he was doing you a favor, or extending you some weird courtesy of freedom.

But even though he offered this every time, you never did.

You naturally assumed that the rule was always made for his benefit. He could go dick down someone, guilt free, and then you couldn't say anything, because he already laid out the rules and you didn't argue with him.

You knew, deep down, that you weren't the only person that felt those rough hands roaming and groping your body…

His thirsty lips kissing you anywhere and everywhere, taking and plundering whatever he desired as he played you like a fiddle.

And that well-endowed package of his that seemed to always make every nerve inside of you light on fire and make you soak the sheets like a puddle of quivering jelly when he was finished with you.

You shook your head to clear it of the heated thoughts. The signs were all there and they were all the small details that told you there was another woman he never spoke of.

Every time he came home, he was drunk or high as fuck on something, and he was sloppy about the evidence you found.

***

You once heard him come home at four in the morning and found him in the kitchen in a pair of boxers you don't ever remember seeing before. He was wasted, and he had white dust on his upper lip as he mucked around in the kitchen causing a mess. A mess you'd end up cleaning in the morning.

You watched him stumble about and make himself a plate of breakfast. He made bacon, sausages, eggs, and toast, then doused the entire thing in a bottle's worth of hot sauce. He left a mess on the stove, the pans in a horrible state, and the sink full of dishes and trash, like eggshells, packaging and bread ties. He didn't even offer you anything, and then when done, the man had the audacity to do rails of ketamine right off of the counter.

That was a shitty night for you. When Jake had eventually gone and stolen your bed, sprawled out like a starfish, and passed out, you went to work on cleaning up his mess.

You took the shells and meat packaging out of the sink and threw them away into the proper bins. You gathered the dishes, set them to soak in the sink, and then wiped the counters, the stove, and the fridge down. He somehow had got egg on the fridge handle, and you huffed while picking up shells from the floor. You swept and mopped the floors, then came back to do the dishes and clean the sink.

Just that alone took an hour. When it was done, you went and picked his stuff up off that he had just strewn about when he came in. His shoes looked brand new, as did his bags, except for one. One was purple, and it had a tag with a woman's name and address, her phone number, and an email address. You took the tag and put it away, then moved his shit to the closet.

One by one, you hung his dress shirts, and only two had blood stains on them. You set those aside to clean, along with a few t-shirts that stunk of cigars, liquor, and sweat. One in particular, a khaki short sleeve button up, had lipstick stains on the collar, and red blood stains on the back in the shape of long scratches. It even smelled heavily of a perfume you didn't wear, and it was a scent he always came back smelling like. Jasmine and cinnamon. They used to be your favorite smells, but now, you despised them entirely, knowing exactly why those scents were there in the first place.

You put that shirt away, keeping it as evidence, and switched it out for one of the same ones that Jake had left behind the last time he showed up. He never noticed. He never did, because he was just that comfortable with you. You went through his clothes, finding condoms in a pair of jeans. A pack of five, and three were missing, but there was one empty wrapper in there, signalling to you what he was doing. He wasn't just handing them out to people.

You found a wallet, which shouldn't have been a big deal, except for it was.

It really was.

Jake's wallet was a thick leather folding wallet and this was a thin card holder that folded. It was canvas, and held a few fake ID cards with the name of Marc Spector, but held Jake's face without his facial hair, his hat, or a smile. It was the first time you'd seen this wallet. It was going to be hard for him to explain that.

Jake also had a backpack and a laptop bag, which you decided to investigate as well. You found sweatpants, baggy shirts, and printed vacation print button ups. You had only ever seen Jake in the sweatpants. That was odd. These clothes were clean, unlike the rest you had found. You folded them up and put them back, only to find yet another wallet inside. It was leather like Jake's, but it had a faded gold Ankh on it and it wasn't as thick. Of course, the identification inside held yet another alias. It said Steven Grant, and that he was a professor of Egyptology.

Well, that explained the tattoos Jake had. Most of them were Egyptian, and the most intricate was the one on his left forearm. It was a series of hieroglyphics inside a white crescent moon with gold lettering. He had told you that he thought it looked neat and never explained it further. It also explained why he had all those books on the shelves, yet never spoke of it or his obvious love of Egypt.

So he had secret lives with secret identities and he didn't think to tell you about it.

You never said a word. You kept your mouth shut and hid your evidence. The shirts, the tag, pictures of it all, and pictures of his IDs.

***

You sighed as the memory passed and Jake was still talking. He was telling you that your car was freshly serviced and had a full tank of gas.

After a few times of him doing this breakup routine, you just waited for his return and picked up where you left off.

Again and again…

But this time around felt different. You felt detached and bored, not to mention numb inside. You needed something new, because you were trapped in a vicious cycle of being loved fully and truly, to suddenly have it wrenched out of your grasp, dangled in front of you, then given back.

You wanted to be happy, but all the time. You didn't want to be waiting on constant alert for Jake to up and leave again. You could never gauge how long he would be gone for, but you found that if you didn’t draw attention to it, he wouldn't go through all the trouble of breaking up with you. He would just leave and come back.

This time though, he was giving you an olive branch, a way to reach him. It was still a shitty anniversary gift in your eyes, when maybe if he had just asked you to come with him, you would have gone. He knew you could protect yourself, and he knew you wanted to travel the world.

Yet he was leaving you behind. Again.

You stared at the scribbled writing in red pen with the address. His words were a dull buzz as you barely paid attention to another excuse about his long haul undercover job, this time to take down an Egyptian cult. You didn't believe him, because he always came home without a scratch on him after he would tell you small details on what he did, which wasn't much to be honest. You did, however, believe he would go pick fights with people, because his clothes always had blood on them.

Lots of guns apparently, and lots of him getting stabbed or shot, beaten up and crashed into, yet he had no proof of such things ever happening, aside from the holes in his clothes that he could have easily put there himself, nor would he tell you how or why his wounds weren't there.

You just assumed he was a Mutant, or maybe one of those other super hero types. You knew he wasn't one of your kind, which was one of the Spider-Folk, and he knew about it. He knew, but never talked about it to your face. Because of this, you never talked about your assumptions, and just dropped any argument the moment it started.

To be fair, you did deserve to know what exactly he did. He had seen you in the news, passed you on the street in his cab while you were in uniform, or when he stood outside of it having a cigarette and just happened to be looking up at the sky at the time. You'd always wave at him, and he'd wave back. That was kind of how you two met…

***

It was a rainy night and you had been chasing a few thugs for a few blocks, when a cab suddenly came out of nowhere, effectively blocking off their escape route. It forced them to funnel themselves into an alley that was a dead end, and you caught them off guard. Of course there was a fist fight, because no self respecting criminal that runs away from you for over fifteen minutes ever just gives up without a fight!

You ended up beating the crap out of one of the guys, but the other two quickly interfered and got the upper hand. You got stabbed three times and slammed against a wall, beforeJake had stepped out of the cab and went full balls to the wall feral on them. You watched him beat a man's face into the curb, blood splattering everywhere. He hadn’t stopped until you pleaded with him not to kill the man.

And that's kinda when you became infatuated with him. He listened to you, did what you asked, and he happily called the authorities. The way he casually leaned against the wall smoking while on his phone, covered in blood, made your lower regions into a damp mess. He casually helped the cops with the criminals and then left.

You ended up seeing him a lot more. Almost every night. And every night, he'd have a bad guy, freshly beaten up for you to take into the police. Eventually he managed to worm his way into your pants while you were on duty, and you ended up getting the fuck of your life in the back of his cab.

From there, he eventually figured out who you were and just showed up and asked you out one day when you were having a coffee with Gwen. He never mentioned your night life, or the fact he managed to bag a Spider. He just simply put on the charm, impressed Gwen enough to get her to gush about him and stay for you, and then that was that.

Then you ended up moving in together in his house. He treated you like a queen, never missing an opportunity to dote on you. Plus, the sex was frequent and fucking amazing. It was refreshing to have that in him, because you could literally crush someone with your strength, yet he was always fine with it.

But that was a long time ago.

***

Now was the present, and the present wasn't making you feel good at all.

Jake was packing his trunk with his meager possessions as he smoked. You watched him, sighing gently as the rain started up. He made quick work of his belongings and slammed the trunk down, before trotting towards you with a sad smile and open arms. You allowed him the embrace, knowing how affectionate he was normally, but you barely hugged him back. He didn't seem to notice as he kissed you on both cheeks and then your lips.

With a wink and quick shove of a wad of cash into your hands, he turned around and left. You watched him drive away, then looked down at the money. He always did that, leaving you with something to help get you by. Usually you used it to pay the mortgage, but you were ahead by six months, something else that had tipped you off to Jake leaving before he told you. You had gone to the bank last week, and they told you it was paid up in advance.

This time you pocketed it and promptly turned around to change into your uniform. It was soothing to think about something else and not the man that just left you again on the day of your third anniversary…

You thought about the costume you were putting on. It was very similar to Gwen's, but in your own coloring. She had helped you make it. You had gone with sort of a space theme, like nebulae and galaxies for the print. The point was to look dark and kind of sparkly. You were a stealthy, yet flashy looking Spider, mostly for distractions and long range combat.

You had higher speed and greater dexterity stats than the other Spiders, but you were a bit weaker than them. They all could lift more, hit harder, and were more experienced, but you could outrun, out jump, and were outright more nimble in every way.

Your reflexes were sharp enough that you could shoot a lid off a drink container, without making it fall over. You could even hit any target at great distances, which impressed Hawkeye of all people. He was impressed enough that he gave you a few private lessons, and even let you use his bow. He reminded you of your brother a lot.

That little kindness Clint had provided made you preen for weeks. At that time, Jake was jealous of the fact another man had made you happy with a simple and platonic compliment and basic archery lessons. Jealous enough to drop out of existence for three weeks, the exact amount of time you had been happy because of the comment. Real fucking mature, Lockley.

You also had the benefits of being able to produce your own webbing naturally, but yours was ten times stronger than that of the original Spider-Man. There was a small problem though. Your webbing took far too long to dry out, so you couldn't exactly use it to make makeshift bags, slings, tarps, safety nets, or instant temporary clothing. That was the price of being able to shoot long distances and still have the webbing stick when it finally got to your target. On the other hand, that made your webbing stronger, because it was basically perpetually moist enough to keep its strength, and not crack under pressure.

The only other thing you could do differently than the others, was that you could control and project lights and use them to stand on, which mostly came in handy at night. It confused the bad guys a lot, which was good, because that meant you were doing your job as a good distraction. Nothing confused a super villain more than a spider using the beam of light from a lamp post or a flashlight to literally stand on air. It was even more confusing to them when you could essentially blind them with just a thought, and be gone a moment later.

But that also had a price. You had a high metabolism, and you were always ravenous after using your powers. That's why you kept a bag with you at all times. It had snacks and drinks inside.

Right now you were going to go meet up with Gwen and the boys for a team patrol to take your mind off of Jake. With a quick text and a thorough lock up of the house, you left with a hoodie, a pair of runners, and your bag.

***

It didn't take long to swing to the meeting point, which was the Sanctum's roof. Peter claimed it was a safe space where everyone would be less likely to be ambushed, due to the fact he personally knew the owner. All that you knew about the man was that he was some grumpy doctor of magic or something and he was an Avenger.

Oh, that, and the man was the last father figure in Peter's life.

You never actually met the man. Sure, you had worked some of the Avengers through Peter, but never this doctor. Maybe it was a good thing. He was an Alpha Level protector of the cosmos and multiverse with powers beyond your comprehension. That, and he was constantly busy. It made it hard for even Peter to gain an audience with him.

Peter was sitting on the roof with Gwen and Miles, all with their masks off and sitting to the side. You landed and rolled towards them, ending up in a sitting position beside Gwen and Miles.

"Heya! Glad you could make it tonight!" Miles giggled and gave you a high five.

"There's our little Galaxy Spider." Gwen chirped happily as she tugged you into an embrace.

"Hey guys." You said weakly while trying not to look so down.

Unfortunately they all noticed, and they all immediately knew why.

"Did that asshole dump you again for one of his stupid trips?" Gwen asked. You nodded with a deep sigh.

"Thought so. Fuck him. He doesn't deserve such a catch as you, anyways." Gwen sounded sassy.

"That guy is nothing but trouble. Yesterday, I saw him threaten a mobster down in Hell's Kitchen, and he didn't bat an eye when he had a gun shoved in his face." Miles offered up.

"Yeah, that's Jake alright." You replied flatly as you brought out a few cans of pop and handed them over. Everyone thanked you and cracked them open.

"So how long do ya think he'll be gone this time?" Peter asked as he fiddled with the tab on the can.

"He said at least six months, a year tops." You said, and everyone made a horrible face of disgust.

"Oh that's so cold. You should just drop him completely. Move out of that old house and go somewhere else." Gwen suggested as she pointed in the direction of said house.

"Yeah, well… This time feels different. I don't care as much. I think I might move on." You shrugged and chugged the rest of your soda down.

"That's good! It will be easier to detach yourself from that gong show." Gwen said as she handed you a protein bar. She was already shoving half of hers down her throat. You giggled and felt a tap to your shoulder and turned to look at Miles.

"I think Gwen is right. Sure, everytime he comes back, you're happy, but the second he leaves, you're a mess. Your crime fighting suffers, too. You almost got yourself killed by Rhino. That guy hates your guts." Miles moved his hands about to express his worry and dismay.

You sighed and hung your head. He was right and you knew it.

"You deserve someone who loves you enough to tell you all their dark secrets. We all know the guy is volatile and flaky. He's definitely hiding something big from you. You don't deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve open communication." Peter piped up as he stood and walked over to you.

"Yeah, you're all right. I need to let go of him. He's just going to keep doing this over and over to me. I have enough shit to worry about with my night job." You sighed and rubbed your face.

"We can help you move, too! We know it's his house you're in." Gwen offered and you smiled.

"Thank you. I just might take you up on that offer." You nodded and went about eating your bar and talking with them for a bit, before the patrol began. The night went on smoothly, with nothing more than a purse thief and a grocery store robber that tried to use a bubble wand as a hidden gun.

***

Series Master List

***

Notes:

Jake leaves a bunch, because Marc is with Layla. Every time Jake breaks up with the reader, Marc has gotten back with Layla. These breakups and returns always happened in America, up until the last one, where the boys fuck off to London to run away from all their problems.

Yes, I found out after giving the reader a galaxy print costume that looks like Gwen's, that Fortnite has a galaxy print for Gwen. I don't play this game. I found it while trying to see if there is a species of galaxy- themed spider. But there is a galaxy named the Spider Galaxy, so…

In this fiction, Stephen knows Peter is Spider-Man.

Actual quote from one of my editors: (@howaboutcastiel )

Them: I'm sorry. I told you I was going to rip into you.

Me: That's okay. I needed it.

***

Tags: If you want to be updated, let me know.

@theaussiedragon @autismsupermusicalassassin

#jake lockley #mcu moon knight #moon knight #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #smut #jake lockley smut #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #love triangle #spider reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— THE LOVE LETTER COLLECTION : PART ONE

SUMMARY : being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the sad version.

PAIRING : dean winchester x dreamwalker!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : rowena macleod, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, fluff, almost-smut, talk about depression, low self esteem, thoughts about past prostitution

WORD COUNT : 11k

A/N : title from a jamie's elsewhere song. this fills the time travel square on my @jacklesversebingo card. inspired by loki season two, please don’t change by Jungkook, and the spider-verse movie. no spoilers. This is written from Dean's perspective and in first person (it was fun but tough) X

I couldn’t sleep tonight.

It’s normal.

She’s asleep next to me, breathing slow and quietly. Her chest rises subtly with each breath. Her lips are parted, just slightly.

Her soft hair is splayed over the pillow like the rays of a sun and she’s facing me. One of her hands rests on her stomach and the other is bent upwards beside her, her hand resting in a loose fist by her neck.

Her steel necklace rests haphazardly over her neck. The chain is thin and fragile. Glimmering in the faint light coming through the opaque hotel curtains. A tiny and thin, rectangular centrepiece is lined with miniature gems and suddenly stops leaving a centimetre free of plain steel, and it rests in the dip of her collarbone.

She’s quiet tonight. Laying still, unmoving. I smile at her, resist the urge to touch her smooth skin or brush her hair away from her shoulders. She wakes up easily, a light sleeper, the cutest one. I’m surprised my staring doesn’t wake her.

Memories move in and try to overcast my mind. At least she takes me away from the darkness that threatens to consume me. Right now, I’m focused on her and the way she breathes.

I try reminding myself of what I have right now. Her. Sam. Cas. Jack. That’s all that matters. I won’t even remember why the feelings overflooded my chest, poisoning my mind, breaking me down until I’m down. In the morning, when the sun shines and pours through the window, I realise it isn’t so bad. When her soft voice flows into my ears, when the flowery aroma of her intoxicates me, when her warm touch comforts me, when the sweet taste of her lips makes me forget what I had been worried about at night.

It’s always the same. Like her, I learned to live with the pain.

She moans softly beside me. Not a sexy moan. It sounds irritated at something. I turn fully onto my side to face her, panic makes my stomach sink. I frown and my train of thought is lost as I wait to see if she’s having a nightmare or not.

She mumbles something I can’t understand, but she doesn’t seem to be in distress. She turns over onto her side, facing me fully. Strands of her hair fall gracefully over her face. I move back slightly but her arm lands in my waist, trapping me in place by entwining her legs with mine. I squirm when her elbow pokes my ribs and I reach out at last, caressing her cheek. With a few whispers of her name and some gentle prodding, she shuts up and her eyes flutter open.

She groans gently and whispers my name, adorably disoriented. I chuckle and lean forward to kiss her forehead before she could even fully wake up. She hums anyway, satisfied and scoots closer to me. Her soft legs slide against mine again; it makes me warm.

She’s moving up on the bed, too, and slides one of her arms under my neck to pull me closer. I willingly go and I grin as soon as my face is pressed against the top of her breasts. I breathe her in and close my eyes. Her skin smells amazing and she gently starts scratching my scalp with her nails. I moan quietly when a shiver runs up my spine and I keep her in place with one arm wrapped around her waist from beneath her.

I move my other hand up to her jaw to tip her head back to kiss her neck. I can hear her breath hitch and she starts to squirm, her thighs become tense and they start to move against my own. When I thread my fingers through her hair and tug weakly, she rolls her hips against mine.

She’s breathing heavier already. I love how she reacts to me.

Heat blooms in my stomach, my cock twitches, and my insides clench instantly when she wraps her arm around my shoulder and then pulls my own hair. I grunt softly against her neck, but she’s pulling away. Her nose bumps against mine and she finds my lips with her own, soft and warm.

I hold her tighter, lowering my hand to squeeze her ass. She smiles against my mouth and I do, too, nibbling on her bottom lip. I move her hair away from her face before sliding my hand down her shoulder, teasingly bringing the strap of her bralette down. She arches her chest into me and I lean down to latch onto her nipple once I get the soft material beneath her chest.

“What were you dreaming about?” I ask curiously. My warm breath hits her wet nipple and she shudders. I slid my hand out from beneath her to play with the hem of her underwear. Slowly, I let my hand sneak into the front.

“Uh,” she trails off distractedly, she attempts to hold me in place against her breasts. I didn’t have any plans on doing anything besides that, but I pulled away on purpose to watch her open her eyes and complain about my inactivity. “Hey, why’d you stop?”

I smirk at her and I pull my hand out of her underwear to hug her, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. I roll over on top of her, holding her in place with my hips against hers. “I wanna know what you dreamt of. You were moaning and movin’ around,” I explained with a frisky grin, trying to make her think that I’m assuming it was a wet dream.

She frowns instead and asks, “did I wake you?” She cups my cheeks and my face softens as I look down at her. I shake my head and I drop kisses along her face until I hear her laugh quietly. “You should’ve woken me if you couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.

I shake my head again and she rolls her eyes, pushing me away to turn her back to me. I follow her immediately to kiss her cheek, to make her not be irritated at me. She’s smiling before I even land a kiss to her face and I grab a handful of her ass instead, squeezing in retaliation.

“I was just gonna grab my phone,” she lies and laughs. She starts to wiggle around and almost fails to laugh quietly, trying to get me off her when I tickle her neck with kisses. I let her go eventually and she immediately reaches for her phone on the nightstand. Her screen turns on when she tilts her phone towards herself, a photo of me naked flashes my face and I get flustered, taking the phone from her after she whined, “it’s gonna be four?”

I stare at the photo in surprise. The photo was cut off at the bottom, barely showing my hip bones, hiding what she had been doing to me. I remember that day, it was our anniversary. We spent about two days together. She was giving me a handjob and she convinced me to let her take a couple of pictures. Who am I to deny her that?

Let’s just say there are more photos and a video.

“Hey! Give it back,” she pouted, wrapping her small hand around my wrist. I ignore her, and move away from her sneaky hands as I blush when my eyes trail back up to my face on the photo. I look like I’m about to orgasm.

“That’s a photo of me,” I stated bluntly. I unlocked her phone curiously and lo and behold, it’s a picture of me fucking her. My stomach clenches, I’m thrilled, even my cock starts to harden at the sight of me standing on my knees, my hand is splayed over her pelvis and my thumb is on her clit.

“Oh, I thought it was a photo of Henry Cavill,” she answers flatly. I feel my heartbeat rise and I bite my lip, I focus on her more than on myself, even if most of what I can see is me. I couldn’t decide whether to look at her in front of me or to keep staring at the angle she took the photo from.

“Shut up,” I mumble, fascinated by the high quality of her photo. I had used a pillow to angle her hips upwards. I was holding her leg up by her ankle and she had her other leg thrown over my hip… the sounds she made that day, they were unforgettable.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” She asks suddenly, snapping me out of my horny daze. I look over at her and watch her bite her lip shyly. “I can change it, it was a joke… mostly.. at first, because now I enjoy looking at it. It’s not very convenient when I’m around other people though…” she rambled thoughtfully.

I don’t say anything and I set her phone down on the pillow. I pry her legs open with my hand and I slip my fingers inside her underwear, teasing her wet labia, tracing her entrance, and then I lift my wet fingers up to ghost them tortuously over her swollen clit.

“You like looking at it?” I smirk down at her. She bites her lip harder, staring up at me in attempts to look innocent as she nods at me. Her eyes shut momentarily and she starts to wiggle her hips impatiently. “What happened to you? You were so shy when we started dating,” I tease, making a ‘v’ with my fingers. I slide my hand down to cup her pussy, her clit brushes against the sides of my fingers and she gasps softly.

“You made me a slut. A horny one,” she whines playfully.

“You’re not a slut,” I laugh, brushing my lips against her cheek.

“Have you seen how I dress now? I feel so hot when I’m with you,” she admitted breathily. I blush at her words and my stomach flutters.

“Wearing sexy clothes don’t make you a slut, angel,” I reassure her and push my middle finger into her. She feels warm. I can feel the texture of the inside of her against my fingers and it turns me on. She’s wet and I love the feel of it every time I pull my finger out of her. “I’m not gonna stop you from doing what you wanna do. Or tell you how to dress. Or call you a slut when you wear… sexy clothes to seduce me. Besides, you look hot as hell to me all the time. And if I make you feel hot enough to wear somethin’ that you usually wouldn’t wear, I think I’m doin’ a pretty damn good job at being your boyfriend.” She’s speechless, either from the way I curl my finger inside her or from the words I just spoke to her. “You are seriously horny though. What’s up with that? You act like I don’t fuck you enough.” I say that and I add another finger inside her.

I stare as her head rolls to the side. She bites her lip, arches her back, and her legs spread open some more. She’s so sexy without even trying.

“I dunno about that one,” she murmured, “I think you’re so fuckable when you do stuff for me like you’ve read my mind, when you say stuff like what you just said right now.. when you’re.. you,” I smirk and lean in for a quick kiss. “I want to feel you everywhere. All over me. All the time. I’ve never wanted for someone as badly as I want for you. I’ve never needed someone as badly as I need you. You make me feel. I want to… I dunno… match you when it comes to sex... You’re.. everything.”

There’s something about the way she says it that drives me crazy. I somehow understand everything she’s trying to say and I pull my fingers out of her.

I need her.

“Fuck,” I whisper, pushing her underwear to the side. I move up her body, but Sam starts to groan beside us. I whine quietly and drop my forehead on her shoulder, releasing her underwear.

I feel her deflate underneath me, too. She apologetically plays with my hair and kisses the top of my head. I melt into her, trying to steady my heart, cool down my body, and make my dick soft at the same time.

“Have you ever had a dream where you hide something and you wake up thinking: ‘what if it’s actually there?’ And you know it’s dumb but you just have a feeling it’s not, and then you’re disappointed because it’s not there when you look?” Her attempt to distract me works. I lift my head and I furrow my brows at her very specific question, but she’s looking at me earnestly so I resist the urge to laugh.

“I don’t think so, no,” I answered her question thoughtfully. After a few moments, as I continue to think about her question, I move off her and lean on my elbow while gazing down at her. “Why? Is there somethin’ you’re tryna tell me in a cryptic way?” I smirk and she pouts.

“I don’t do that,” she replies with uncertainty. I can tell she’s going over any possible situation where she’s been cryptic without even noticing.

“Uh, you do it sometimes,” I say with a laugh. She frowns and then ignores me. It makes me want to kiss her.

“Well, I’m trying to tell you my dream,” she explains. I’m about to tell her to continue, but Sam’s tossing and turning stops, and he speaks to us sleepily.

“You guys already awake?” Sam yawns, I look over my shoulder and I watch him stretch.

“Yeah,” I answer, then I lay back down on my back.

“Unfortunately,” she answers with a sigh.

She starts to get out of bed and I frown. I move over closer and wrap my arm around her waist, pressing kissing along her back. She chuckles and doesn't move away from when she bends down. I can hear her rifling through her duffle bag and I let her go when I feel her stop. I take her spot, lay on my stomach and bury my face in her pillow to inhale the smell of honey and jasmine from her shampoo.

I hear her jump slightly and I slide my arms under the pillow, lifting my head to watch her pull her jeans up. I smile dreamily as I watch her slide them over her ass. When she bends over, I’m a hundred percent sure she’s putting on a show for me. She rolls the bottom of her jeans upwards into a cuff so they don’t drag across the floor.

“Need to use the bathroom, Sam?” She asks him innocently, but she’s looking at me with mischief in her eyes. I smile and hide my face in the pillow so I don’t laugh or moan.

“I’ll use it after you, go ahead,” he tells her, ever the gentleman. She says a little ‘mmkay’ and I can hear her step closer to me. I peek at her and watch her lift the sheets over my body. She kisses the nape of my neck before she leaves and I resist the urge to act like a girl when she does it.

“Was she having a nightmare again?” Sam asks, his voice is laced with concern. I turn to look at him, the sun starts to light up the room, and I watch as he puts his shoes on. “That one with the axe killer was terrifying. She couldn’t sleep for days after it,” Sam reminisces with a grimace on his face.

“She didn’t have a nightmare,” I reassure Sam. I feel relief, the same as the sigh Sam releases when I respond, and I sit up.

Sam opens his laptop and his brows furrow as he stares at the screen. But his question takes me back to that night. I think about it like it just happened. I didn’t know what to do, neither did Sam, at first, because as soon as I’d touched her thrashing body, she’d fallen off the bed. She had a bruise on her cheekbone afterwards to show for it.

She never woke up when it happened, not until I picked her up off the floor. But even when she opened her eyes and saw me, the monster pulled her back into her dream and continued to chase her.

I remember Sam trying to help me as she tried to wiggle out of my grip, her dream bleeding into reality. She was strong for such a small woman and she slipped repeatedly from my grip and into Sam’s. We held her down on the bed instead and waited for her to wake up on her own.

I’d never been so afraid for her before. I’d never had my heart broken by her like that night when she immediately broke down crying upon waking up fully, holding onto me tighter than she’d ever held me before.

I cleaned the cuts on her legs and her back, I tended to the rope burn on her wrists. She was covered in bruises. I was grateful that she didn’t have anything broken or a deadly wound. But her mind was broken. It is broken. She was depressed for a few days after it had happened. I couldn’t help her in any way, but I was there for her the entire time.

It happens sometimes, more back then than it does now. She’d dream about something and it would break her. She falls apart and I help build her up—like she’s done for me a million times before. The dreams, nightmares, take a toll on her because she can’t do much in terms of helping out.

I feel like she’s a little more numb to it now. Like the depression got old. Like it’s just the same old emotions that have tried to drown her before. I’ve seen it with admiration and a bit of humour. The spite she feels when they come up after years of feeling controlled by it. I’ve seen her at her lowest and I’ve seen how resilient she can be—even on her own.

She tells me now when she doesn’t feel right, but she sounds more irritated by it than actually brought down. Sometimes she repeats or mocks whatever dark thought crosses her mind out loud and it’s half-funny. I still reassure her that it’s not true, just in case she’s pretending to be strong, just in case they’re sounding too true to be a lie.

If it’s really bad, I can tell because she goes mute. I let her cry once she opens up to me. I hold her and I let her feel it until it passes. There’s no point in trying to be positive sometimes or pushing down her feelings when they’re there for a reason. She lets it out and then she feels embarrassed because she wonders how she could think it was true. It’s a cycle, one I’m used to feeling myself just as much as she is.

It’s harder for me than it is for her to open up. I’m not used to it. God knows I want to tell her, but the words turn to a knot in my throat and my tongue gets heavy as they rest there. I’m afraid I’ll burden her, even when I try to reason with myself that I’ve never felt like she was a burden for having feelings, it doesn’t help. Because she’s herself and I am me. Still, I think she’s learned to understand me, even in silence.

I love her.

She steps out of the bathroom with a cute flowery top and a green cardigan after about six minutes and I smile at her. She gleefully twirls her way to me with a playful, “hey, Sammy. Morning, handsome,” and quickly kicks off the slippers she’s wearing to jump on the bed. Sam laughs quietly and goes into the bathroom now that she’s done.

I immediately bring her in for a kiss. My fingers tangle in her hair and I moan when her tongue prods at my lips. I can taste her minty breath when her soft tongue slides into my mouth. My hands fall to her waist; hers rise to my face. She kisses me passionately, her fingers thread through my hair and she holds me in place. She starts sucking my tongue into her mouth and I don’t even know what to call the sound that came out of me. I grab onto her tightly, his head feels fuzzy, my body is warm and tingly everywhere as she devours me. When her tongue runs along my top teeth, I have to resist the urge to bite her tongue but she begins to trace the roof of my mouth and pushes my mouth closer to hers with her hand on my jaw.

When she pulls away, she’s breathless. Like me. A string of saliva breaks between our mouths when she gets off me and I wish we could linger on it, but I’m too dazed to bring her back. I know my hair is messy and I lick my mouth to taste her again. My eyes are fixed to her movements, I know I look dumb as I continue to stare at her while she digs through her duffle bag.

Her hips sway when she walks across the room and she bends over the table slightly to open the curtain. She has a small pink bag, and takes out a green hand mirror to use as she gets ready. I inhale and try to compose myself while she fixes her eyebrows.

“Can we talk about your dream so I’m not horny all day?” I asked, getting out of bed to get ready, too. She laughs and wiggles her brows experimentally. She seems satisfied and then takes out a lash curler.

“Okay, yeah,” she agrees with a smile, but quickly glares at the lash curler. She inhales sharply before nervously bringing the metal thing to her eye. I can tell she’s freaking out with its proximity, and I grin when she has to take a deep breath after pulling it away before trying again.

I take my jeans out of my own duffle bag and start to put them on while we talk, and I ask, “so you dreamed you hid something and you think it’s real this time?” She curls her lashes at last, three times for a few seconds and then she moves on to the other eye. She bats her lashes at the mirror and then she stares down at her bag thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it’s in your duffle bag, but I didn’t put it there. I watched someone else do it and they told me to find it when I wake up,” she explains with a frown, then she frowns harder. I stare at the bag and open it up but I don’t see anything strange. “I’m gonna be mad, too, because I’ve hidden awesome stuff that I want to have—when I dream sometimes, and I’ve never found them.” I chuckle quietly and shake my head, but I start rifling through it to find whatever she could be talking about.

“Why is it important that you find it?” I ask curiously and dump everything inside onto the bed. She takes out a pink bottle and gets the wand out to place a few wet dots of pink on her lips. She presses them together to evenly spread the colour and then puts two smaller dots on her cheekbones.

“I don’t know yet,” she trails off and closes the tint. She then evenly rubs the hue over her cheeks. “He told me that once I get it, he can tell me,” she puts the small pink bag away in the duffle bag again and gets on the bed on her knees to look for it with me.

She carefully grabs my shirts, unfolds them and folds them perfectly again before putting them inside my duffle. She does it over and over with my help, until I grab a flannel and out falls a white rock shaped like a tiny white planet.

“Aha!” She exclaims, just as Sam steps out of the bathroom, confused.

“What’s that?” Sam asks, walking over to us to analyse what she grabs excitedly from the bed.

“It’s a rock,” she grins happily. She must forget that Sam doesn’t know what’s so important about it or why I have it in my stuff, so I explain it all to him as I finish folding the rest of my clothes.

“Is that like an infinity stone or something?” I ask when Sam starts inspecting the white rock. She breaks, a soft laugh lights up her previously serious face, and she’s looking at me with the brightest eyes. Sam, on the other hand, ignores me.

“I can do some research when we get to the bunker,” Sam offers, handing her the rock, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Dream-Dean told me to take it to Rowena and I have to tell her that she has to use it on me,” she explains to us. I narrow my eyes at her when she says that to Sam. She was completely vague about the person she dreamt of at first, but now she’s saying I gave it to her in a dream? Or at least some other version of me did.

“And what, you trust this… uh,” I laugh bitterly, jealousy makes my face hot. “Dream-Dean? Seriously? He could be using my body to manipulate you.” She opens her mouth and then she closes it. She’s watching me. I know she’s trying to find a way to explain without sounding like I’m right.

“He was in my dreams,” she explained slowly, “and he didn’t look like you do now. He was more of a uh, hot, aged up version of you.” That did not make me feel any better, but I couldn’t deny that it was funny and flattering. I don’t feel as hot anymore, not since I’ve aged, but knowing she thinks otherwise makes me flush.

“Hot? Am I not fucking hot right now?” I ask playfully, staring straight at her. She gets flustered and she starts to stutter as she begins to deny what I’m saying.

“No.. you are hot- Shut up,” she grumbles. Her face is red and I smirk at her.

“Guys, please,” Sam interrupted, “let’s focus.”

“Yeah, stop flirting, babe, we need to focus,” I shake my head with a fake frown. I turn to Sam and resist a smile, even though he lets out an irritated sigh at the two of us. I can feel her behind me, I feel a tingle of thrill run up my spine, but steady my voice when I ask, “how does something from your dream appear in our world?”

Sam must think it’s a good question because he turns to look at her with a curious face. I feel her hand land at the small of my back, I can feel her warmth spread over my body, and then it moves away, leaving me cold, but I don’t expect the way she swats my ass.

“Uh… quantum physics?” She says, unsure. That distracts Sam from the way I jump, he acknowledges it, but ignores me to focus on her words. My ass stings a little, but honestly, even I’m intrigued by her words. “Pfft, I don’t know, I don’t remember anything from my physics degrees,” she snorted sarcastically.

“My general knowledge of that is the Ant-Man stuff,” I tell her with a serious face. She smiles affectionately, amusement glitters in her eyes, and she forces herself to look away when Sam comes up with a plan.

“I can get another hunter to take over the case,” Sam suggests, “Rowena’s a call away, we can head back to the Bunker while she meets us there.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Is there anything special about this rock?” Sam askes Rowena, looking across the table as the redheaded witch uses her finger to read a few lines from the giant book. She picks up the rock, then tilts her head and her curls follow the movement.

“Well, it’s just Scolecite,” Rowena started, “but I can feel something very powerful inside.” Rowena takes the stone and brushes her thumb over the orb, then she carefully gazes past me. “Where did you say you got this from?”

I look behind me, and she has the cutest, wide-eyed look on her face when she looks up from the sandwich she’s eating. I bite my lip and smile at her, then I turn back to Rowena. “A… uh… alternative universe version of me gave it to her. Why?”

“It feels different,” Rowena pauses to think. “Everything in our world has a certain.. signature. This feels like it doesn’t belong to our world. It makes more sense to me now that I know it’s from another universe.” I nod slowly, trying to make something of that information. I wipe a hand down my mouth and I lean back, giving my attention to my favourite person in the whole world.

She passes the rest of her sandwich to me quietly and I eat it. It somehow tastes better than the one I made for myself, and I made both of them. She gazes at me as I eat, but she asks Rowena, “you can use it on me, though, yeah? It won’t be a problem?” We look away at the same time, Rowena looks amused and then she recollects herself.

“I can,” she confirms, then cautiously asks, “are you sure you want that?” It makes me worried suddenly. Was I really gonna let my girlfriend use some magical, dimensional rock we know nothing about just because some older version of me told her to?

“Should we not?” I ask earnestly.

“I’ve never done anything like… this,” Rowena admits, pushing the book slightly towards me, “it’s possible everything will go right, but it will be extremely painful. This rock is a vessel. It’s holding something massive and powerful inside, and I’ll be putting that inside her.” It makes me more nervous when she explains it like that. Is that why she didn’t want us to do research before, because she knew there were risks? I abandon the sandwich as it begins to make me feel sick, but I’m interrupted from asking more questions.

“Dean, it’s fine. All of you, please,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m going to do this and I’m not changing my mind. I’m sure and I can handle anything that happens, okay? And if I can’t, we can stop, but I’m trying again.” She was looking straight at me, but my eyes were glued to the sandwich that was making my stomach upset.

“I don’t get why you suddenly trust the guy,” I say quietly.

“It’s you, Dean, if I’m going to trust anyone, of course, it’s going to be you,” she replied steadfastly.

“Okay, but it’s not me.” I look at her and plead that she doesn’t go through with it.

“I know that you’re afraid, Dean, and you’re usually right about stuff like that, but I’m sure of this, okay?” She puts her hand behind my neck reassuringly. Her hand is cold and it makes me shiver, I shake my head.

“You’ve made up your mind, darlin’, that’s fine with me,” Rowena told her. I get up and I stare at everyone at the table in disbelief, but the only ones who look at me are Rowena who I know is curious about what will happen and my girlfriend who’s stubbornly made up her mind, but Sam doesn’t look at me, and I know he agrees with them.

“Seriously? We’re gonna do this knowing jack shit about this goddamn rock and what it’s gonna do to you when you use it?” I scoff and Rowena opens her mouth to explain something I won’t understand, but I turn away from them because, like them, I won’t be convinced otherwise.

I get to my room, but I don’t even know what to do with myself now that I’m doing nothing. I pace for a while and then I stand there. I look at the stuff that I keep in my room, the stuff I use to make these concrete walls feel like home. I don’t hear anyone behind me, I know they’re waiting for me to cool down before they come find me. I assume they’re preparing everything for the spell in the meantime.

I go to the box that sits on the floor at the foot of my bed and I kneel down to open it. Only I know what sits way at the bottom. One of the perks of doing my own shit without being told, is that I get to hide stuff because my girlfriend doesn’t need to clean my stuff when I’ve already done it.

I pull out an unsuspecting, small wooden box from the bottom. When I open it, three rings glitter in the light of my room, it makes me nervous. I feel butterflies in my chest as the white gold glares at me, the diamonds on the one in the middle sparkle almost magically. I can’t let her jeopardise everything, but I can’t bear how it’ll change us if I stop her. It’s one thing to date her, but marriage is a whole other story. It’s eternity, at least to me, and I don’t think anyone would want that from me.

I’m fucked up in ways I can’t change, in ways I can’t ever say. Unless it’s some random person I’ll never see again, some person I don’t go home to. I know I’ve hurt her by doing that. I itch for hunts if I go two weeks without one, but I complain about wanting a normal life. I have a drinking problem I don’t address. I get angry at the ones I love, sometimes it’s blown out of proportion on my part. I make stupid decisions for the people I love, end up destroying the world more than once, or I willingly give myself as a sacrifice. Sometimes it’s not even out of courage, sometimes it’s the microscopic size of my ego, the nonexistent love I have for myself, or the fact that I want to give up.

I hide my pain behind jokes and laughs. I’d rather leave and sabotage something good rather than risk being hurt. I’m trapped in a cycle I can’t break out of, not the way the love of my life has. I’m stuck in ways I was treated by my father, my enemies. I believe every hurtful word and I can’t see myself the way her and Sam do.

I like questionable shit. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes she thinks it’s hot, but I’m not fucking normal. I do questionable shit. Not just the hunting and the killing. I have blood on my hands, seeped deep into my soul and into my mind. I have nightmares and flashbacks that don’t go away.

I’ve whored myself out for money, for food, for Sam, because my dad asked me to on cases. I feel disgusted with myself sometimes. I wish I’d waited. Sex was great when it happened, I liked it, it took my mind off shit in my life, but afterward it’s horrible. When they left or I left, it was the grossest feeling. Even if I stay ‘till morning, it ain’t the same. As much as I’d like to say casual sex is healthy and normal. I can’t say that’s the case for me. It was worse when I started dating her. I felt unworthy, I don’t even think she cares about who I fucked in the past, but I do.

I know all these things are bad and I can’t fucking change it. I don’t know how to stop it, I don’t know where to even start with myself. I’m too fucked up, I think so, I can’t be fixed. I can’t possibly make her happy forever. I’ll fuck up along the road. She probably won’t forgive me. I never expect her to.

I hear a knock on my door and I close the box, casually putting it back inside before getting up. My knees creak and I feel old suddenly, tired, too. I turn around to face the woman I love most. She has the softest look in her eyes and her lips form the saddest smile.

I still wonder if she can see how ugly I am.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I tell her, sitting down on the box. Her eyes flicker down to my shoes and she sighs, then steps forward.

“I never expected you to,” she murmurs. She wraps her arms around my neck and I bury my face in her stomach.

We stay that way for a while. She feels warm and comfortable, my hands rest on her hips and my thumbs brush beneath the cropped, white shirt she’s wearing. Her skin is soft and warm, I know she appreciates Cas’ healing, choosing to erase any damage from monsters we’ve encountered. She smells sweet and expensive, the scent of her perfume lingers on her clothes, it’s familiarity makes me warm inside.

I pull away to look up at her. She watches me curiously, her eyes drift over my face, and she looks content as she does it. I take her wrists shyly, I kiss her pulse like she’s done to me a billion times before, and I quietly admit: “I just can’t trust him, I’m afraid you’ll get hurt or something worse. I can’t do it. I can’t let you do it without knowing everything...”

“I know that,” she tells me. There's a hint of irritation in her voice that hurts me, but then she gets down onto her knees and takes my face in her hands. “I can’t control how you feel, Dean, I can only control how I feel, and I need to do this.” She explains it to me as gently as she can, and while I can understand where she’s coming from, I just don't care. I’d lock her in the dungeon if it meant she wouldn’t do it, but I know that’s extreme. I know she’d hate me for it, I’d hate to be controlled that way again, too. That’s the only thing that stops me. “Dean, please be with me when I do it,” she begs softly.

I want to cry and break something out of frustration. She’s stubborn as hell, just as much as I am. Instead, I grab her face and I kiss her roughly. She moans lowly, surprised by the suddenness of my affection, but she returns my kiss. I pour into her how much I hate this idea, how much I need her to listen to me, how much I love her.

When I pull away, she chases my mouth to continue the kiss, and I can’t deny her. She matches my possessiveness when I press my lips against hers again. I can tell what she's trying to say with the way she effortlessly slides her tongue into my mouth, tugs my hair, and draws a deep grunt from my chest. Her kiss is intoxicating and I suddenly regret teaching her everything she knows.

I pull away with so much effort and I pant against her wet lips. Her nose brushes against mine when she pulls back further to gaze at me. She returns with a smile and kisses the corner of my mouth. “If something happens-”

“It won’t,” she interrupts me. She kisses my jaw and I tilt my head in the direction that she pulls my hair.

“But if it does… I love you,” I confess, my voice raspy. Her lips freeze on my pulse and I feel my body go rigid. I know I’ve told her before and she’s reciprocated, but I still, always fear she won’t return the sentiment.

“If you only say that when you think we’re gonna die, I’d prefer that you never say it at all,” she said quietly, pulling away from me. I watch her sit down with an unreadable expression on her face and I wonder what she’s thinking as my heart sinks into the very hands that rest openly on her lap.

“Guys, everything’s ready,” Sam says softly from the door. We both look up at him and we nod without saying a word. He hesitates, watches us carefully, his clever eyes gather information, and then he walks away.

I help her up off the floor and the air around us is thick. There’s a distance between us and I wonder how fucked up we are that I don’t even know how we got to this point when just a few seconds ago, I had my mouth pressed aginst hers. I know that the problem goes deeper than just what’s happening now, but I don’t know how I’ve managed to miss the stuff that bothers her.

I feel a little hope spark in my chest when her hand brushes against mine, even though it hurts, I hope she doesn’t take it from me. Her slim fingers tickle my palm and I clasp her hand fully inside my own, walking with her slowly to where Sam and Rowena were waiting in the library.

Everything was shifted around the place, once we got there. The tables were pushed against the shelves so that there was a big open area now where Sam placed a plastic sheet over the wooden floor, to allow Rowena to paint marks over it for the spell. The air smelled spicy and flowery, tickling my eyes, the smoke made the library grey, and I felt sick again.

“Okay, I need you to lay down in the centre and hold the rock right here,” Rowena demonstrated to her once we stepped inside the library.

She did as Rowena asked. I felt more and more anxious as the minutes passed, but soon, Rowena was chanting some magic words in another language while Sam inspected what was happening like a good little apprentice. If anything went wrong I was ready to jump in and stop whatever the hell kind of spell they were working on. It would be reckless, but I can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt.

Nothing happens for a few minutes, but the rock starts to glow in the centre of her chest. It begins to crack, pure white light breaks through, and I look over to her face to check that she’s alright, but she looks more sleepy than in pain. I can tell she’s not really here by the empty look in her eyes she gets when she’s bored or deep in thought.

Despite the lack of discomfort in her face, I can’t seem to relax. I just know something will go wrong, it always does. I see Rowena move back slightly and I look over at the witch with concern before looking back at my girlfriend who’s surrounded by the right of pure white cloud that looks like a whole galaxy of bright dust with gold and opal.

It’s not until Rowena begins to aggressively chant her spell that I visibly start to freak out. It reminds me of possession, the way the cloud of smoke starts to rise to get inside her. The white rock bursts and sends pieces of itself flying across the room before it dives right into the centre of her chest where the rock had been before.

I can hear her start to cry and there’s suddenly pulses coming from her. She scrambles up suddenly and I walk towards her to help her get out, but Sam stops me with his hand wrapped tightly around my elbow. I freeze and watch helplessly as she hunches over while she sits on her legs, as if her stomach was hurting.

“Don’t fight it,” Rowena announced in between incantations, “control the way you feel.” I can hear her sobs and I yank my arm from Sam’s grip with a glare. When I get closer, Sam doesn’t stop me. She shouts and I can tell she lets go completely. Suddenly it’s like the polarity reverses, it just stops and it sits there before it begins to move inside of her faster, and it ends just as quickly.

It’s quiet now. I gaze down at her cautiously and I step forward as the glow in her chest dims and I can see that she’s crying. Tears are running down her face, but she looks up at me blankly.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” I ask her tenderly, kneeling down. I take her wrists and I can feel the erratic beat of her heart. I search her eyes and she’s smiling now, like that didn’t just happen.

“No, I’m fine,” she laughs softly. I break a smile, but I’m still worried, and I cup her warm face in my hands, wiping tears from her red cheeks.

“You’re crying,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. She pulls away and takes my hand to examine my wet thumbs. She looks at them with confusion and then wipes her wet eyes, seeing for herself that she’s definitely crying.

“Those aren’t my tears,” she tells me. Before I can say anything, I see the floor beneath us suddenly transform into hexagonal shapes, showing small places I’ve never seen before—like photographs.

“Dean!” I hear Sam shout, but then the woman in my arms yelps when it starts to fall apart underneath us and we fall through. There’s nothing around us when we're falling and we cling to each other. Suddenly, there’s another hexagonal thing in the middle of the dark abyss and we start to fall through it—inside a building instead. I’m certain we’re gonna die.

But as we get a few centimetres above ground, I tighten my grip around her small body and we stop. There’s no impact, no pain, no sound. I open my eyes and I see the marble floor as it grazes my nose and then we fall the last distance with no problem.

“See? Nothing bad happened, you are wrong sometimes, Dean.” I look up, away from the girl underneath me whose head is tilted up towards the familiar voice with a smile on her face. I see myself. Definitely an older version of me with stubble—almost a beard—and longer hair. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a black coat. It looks fucking awesome, but I think this guy was flirting with my girl in her dreams, so I glare at him instead.

“Who are you? What is this place? And what did you do to my girlfriend?” The guy only laughs, he’s not looking at me, he’s looking down at her. She’s looking at him like she’s his biggest fan in the world, but under the silent stare it’s like there’s some inside joke I’m not a part of and I feel so irritated.

“I’m you, from a future that doesn’t exist anymore,” he starts, finally looking at me, “this place is.. well, mostly I watch the multiverse, I can see all the timelines, make sure no one’s in danger. The most important job is preventing God from doing what he did before.” I look around at the room we’re in. The walls are black—architecturally speaking, everything is geometric. The lights are dim and there are destroyed statues along the walls in the hallway. The floor is dark red, shiny, but only acts as a rug would. The ceiling is tall, almost endless, and I’m sure there is actually no ceiling at all. “As for what we did to her..'' he trails off and bites his lip. “Long story short, we gathered your variants before they were killed off by Chuck and we put their souls in the rock. When you absorbed it, it made you powerful, not a soul-bomb like Dean. I’m talking about your dreamwalking abilities,” he explains to her.

“We who?” I ask. He’s about to answer, but I’ve got a million questions running through my mind the longer he talks and the longer I’m here. “How many variants, or whatever, is that, then? Also, what do you mean she’s more powerful?” She reaches out for my wrist and I look down at her, but I can’t calm down, I can’t slow down. I have no idea where we are or why they want her here. “And what does Jack think about all this?”

The older me laughs and shakes his head at me. It pisses me off. He’s handsome, but I’ll punch him anyway.

“Come on, I’ve got a meeting soon,” he told us, then started walking down the seemingly endless hallway. The doors opened strangely, one door slid upwards, but behind it was another door that sunk down into the floor. When we stepped outside, everything was black, there was a faint white light in the distance and the body of what looked like a leviathan. Not the ones we know, but the things without a human meat suit.

“Is this the future or something?” I ask. It’s all terrifying. I look down and see there’s a whole other level, and it’s all connected like a maze or a labyrinth. The floor we walk on to the next pyramid-like building is an opaque crystal structure that I know is thick as hell, but I’m scared shitless anyway. There’s no wind blowing, not even a sound, but when the older version of me speaks, his voice bounces strangely around us.

“Uh… see that bright light? That’s the beginning of time, all of this here, is the end. We’re technically in between,” he clarifies.

“So… wait, she can time travel?” I ask, somewhat delighted at the thought.

“Yeah, dreams are the easiest way to time travel,” he chuckles, “I use Baby to time travel. It’s my personal, sexy, TARDIS. Thanks to Jack, but he regrets that now.” He laughs heartily at that and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty jealous of the fact that he’s upgraded to a time travelling Impala. “Anyway… uh, there were only twenty six other variants of you,” he tells her. The small number shocks me, but I don’t dwell on it for long because she doesn’t seem phased. I’ll have to talk about that with her later. “And that portal you fell through? That’s what your abilities do now. When Jack would use your abilities, you could see them like picture frames in your mind, but now you can access them at any point, whenever you want.”

I look above and I can see there’s still more monuments above us somehow floating in the air, or maybe they’re being held by another structure, but I’m not sure. If we weren’t outside, risking our lives and falling off the walkway, I’d be amazed by this place. Whatever it is.

“As for what Jack thinks of this place,” he laughs heartily and looks at us. I can see sadness in his eyes, he can’t hide his emotions from me, but I don’t think he cares about that because he doesn’t look away. “I think I annoy him so much he doesn’t even care what I do anymore, besides he can’t destroy this place. It’s God-proofed. As for you, he won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“I don’t understand why you want me to be powerful,” she wonders out loud to him after a while. We’re standing by another door, this one opens like elevator doors, and the room is brighter. There’s gold, sparkling gems, and giant jewels scattered on the floor.

“I just wanted to find a way to keep you safe indefinitely,” he told her with a shrug. I pause for a moment, maybe he’s not as bad as I made him out to be. This whole time I was busy thinking he was endangering her, but he might actually be trying to keep her safe. I still think there’s something romantic going on, considering that it’s me, considering that he’d go through all that trouble to keep her safe. I wouldn’t do all that for just anyone. “I’m always checking on you, making sure you’re safe. I honestly spend so much of my time focusing on you instead of the whole multiverse,” he admitted bashfully. “I don’t think that’s a problem, but.. I think I’m in love with you enough, and you’ve already got your Dean. Also… I have people depending on me to focus on the job, which is way better than hunting, honestly,” he laughed nervously.

I narrowed my eyes at him for admitting that. He doesn’t seem phased because I look over and she’s blushing, trying to act normal. She’s never had a reaction like this to any other man who’s hit on her, but now that it’s someone who has my face, she’s acting the way she acts with me when I do it. I know she can’t control it, it’s me after all, but it makes my chest burn with jealousy.

“Listen, dude, I get that you’re all fucking awesome with your costumes and running this place, but stop hitting on her, okay?” I ask sarcastically with a tight smile.

“Dean,” she scolds me. She grabs my sleeve, tugs lightly, and she looks so fucking adorable right now, it’s making it hard for me to stand my ground.

“No, okay,” I groan exasperatedly, tugging away from her. “What the fuck, guys? I mean… seriously. Nothing in our lives is normal, but this shit is literally- I don’t even know what to make of any of this! It’s fucked up, you’re in love with her when you’ve never met her? What the hell?” I tug at my hair and then I slide my hands tiredly down my face.

She blinks up at me like I just told her the most insane conspiracy theory and I sigh. Her face softens and she hugs me instead of saying something. She nuzzles her face into my chest and I hear her breathe me in. Her arms are tight around my waist and I finally return her embrace, I kiss the top of her head, and my entire body releases the tension I’ve been keeping inside me since we started talking to Rowena.

“I get it. It’s me and you don’t even trust yourself,” the other Dean begins, “but when we sleep, we dream about each other's lives. We dream of her.” She pulls away from me and I force myself to look away to consider his words. “All of us. In every universe, every version of you. We see how close to happily ever after you are with the kindest, loving, most caring woman to exist in the entire multiverse. We want what you have, as fucked up as everything else in your life is, you’ve got this one good thing. And you do so much to fuck it up. You don’t have to trust us, but trust that she’ll stay with you.”

I think quietly to myself. As much as it irritates me, I should put myself in her shoes, too. She has to deal with hundreds of girls flirting and throwing themselves shamelessly at me and she never makes a big deal out of it. It’s because she trusts me that she doesn’t give a shit what they say or do. She jokes with me when they give me their numbers, claiming she’ll give them a call when she needs someone to babysit me. If they flirt, she’ll teasingly repeat it and bother me about it for the rest of the day. Whatever it is, she laughs and makes the best of something people would feel generally insecure about. That’s because at the end of the day, she’s the one I’m sleeping next to, she’s the one I’m waking up to, she’s the one who spends every second of every day at my side.

Nobody can compete with that.

The sound of doors opening thankfully breaks the silence. I don’t have to admit he’s right, but I look down at her in my arms, and her eyes tell me she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Sir, I’ve been look-” another voice that sounds like mine breaks us apart and I’m only half-surprised to see myself wearing that stupid Ken Doll suit Zachariah dressed me in for kicks to prove a stupid fucking point. “Oh…” Like the older version of me, he gawks at the woman who’s standing in front of me.

“Dean, this is.. well, this is ridiculous actually, I don’t gotta introduce us,” older Dean chuckles. The younger looking version of me has a cart with cardboard boxes and he continues to bring them towards us. “Also, don’t call me sir, we’ve talked about this,” he adds good-naturedly with a smile and a shake of his head.

“Uh, sorry. Hi,” Ken-Doll steps closer to her and, of course, my woman is on cloud nine. “Wow, you’re way more beautiful than I dreamed,” he breathes out. I puff my cheeks trying to hold back saying something snarky in response. But all self-control nearly leaves my body when she fucking giggles shyly and rubs the back of her neck.

“Okay!” Older Dean did something before I did, and the spell between Ken and my lover broke. “Did you get the files for Lush?” He asks Ken-Dean, giving me the side-eye, as if to tell me to cool down. I swear every version of me has gotten on my nerves without me having to meet any of them.

“Yeah… uh, yes, we’ve got her background, which universes she actually exists in, her status, what’s she’s currently doing, what she can do… y’know, the basics,” Ken informs him. Older me takes off the top of one of the boxes, sifts through files, and nods his head proudly.

“Great, so the team you’re leading? It’s all good?”

“Yes, we’ll be focusing on this case for the time being, keeping an eye on her,” he discloses, “we all agree she could be a danger to the timeline.” Both me and her are completely absorbed in the conversation they’re having. I’m curious about whatever the fuck they’re doing and why all those words sound so badass in a sentence together.

“We’ll talk about that later.”

“Right, the meeting, let’s walk together?”

Older Dean gave me a tight smile and I followed them both with my quiet girlfriend by my side. I should relax, there’s no harm in being in love with someone so long as they don’t make a move and I have nothing to be afraid of when it comes to her. She’s still standing next to me, her hand finds my wrist and I tug her into my side. She stumbles and laughs softly, letting me put my arm around her shoulders while she wraps her arm around my waist.

In just a few minutes, we walk by a whole bunch of me’s wearing soldier-like uniforms, they’ve all got numbers across their backs, a logo of a shooting star with the words ‘THE MONUMENT’ on their chest. Despite having been serious, they cracked upon seeing her, too. Their faces carried little smiles after passing her and her cheeks were red from all the attention she was getting.

“So, do we get chosen by Jack or how does this whole thing work?” I ask, trying to get her attention away from the hot soldiers. At least I know she’s attracted to me in every shape and style.

“Jack has no power here,” the older me reassured us again. “Typically, after the variants lose everything or once they die, they’re given the option to come here… we’re never surprised that they prefer to be here, surrounded by the rest of us, getting a chance to be closer to you.”

“Can’t be easy facing each other, knowing how you are,” she says astutely. I was thinking the same exact thing.

“Yeah, well… you changed all of that for us,” this time Ken spoke up. She looks up at them attentively and a little smile tugs at her lips.

There’s another me leaning against the wall by the door we’re about to go into. He’s smoking a cigarette and he’s covered in tattoos. I can see them peek out of the neck of his t-shirt, both arms are covered in sleeves of art, and he smirks as soon as he sees her. I roll my eyes, I know what to expect from every version of me that I see. Especially if they feel some sort of gratitude towards her for undoing all the horrible things they were put through against their will.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” he praised. He even has the audacity to take her chin between his fingers and angle her face in his direction. She averted her gaze shyly, but I can tell she melts into him, especially when he brushes his thumb gently across her lip. He bites his own and I think about how lucky they are that she loves them because they’re alternative me’s. “At least one of us got lucky.” He let her go gently and took another drag of his cigarette before getting out of the way to get inside the room with us.

“Which Dean is that?” She asks quietly, but I can sense a bit of excitement in her tone. I squeeze her against my side as a warning, but she snorts at me.

“The original Dean Chuck had in mind,” older me replied, holding the door open for a few other ‘variants’ of myself to enter after us.

“Hot,” she hummed flagrantly.

“Sweetheart,” I beg quietly. It makes both the older and younger me laugh.

“Dean, it’s the truth, but I’m messing with you,” she laughs, too.

“You’re unbelievable.” Still, I can’t stop the smile on my face.

“You’d do the same if you were in a room filled with a bunch of other variants of me,” she reasoned, dragging me over to where there were empty seats. It wasn’t next to the older me, or Ken me, or tatted me. Next to her was a variant of me with a beard, a plaid neckerchief like a cowboy, wearing a tactical vest. Next to me was an alternate version of me wearing a black t-shirt with a firefighters’ logo.

Now that I’m sitting here looking at every variant of me around the hexagonal table, I start to realise this is literally a room filled with her sex fantasies of me. I can recall having worn most of these costumes when we have roleplayed for sex. She would dress up in something sexy for me, too, it was our thing.

I leaned towards her as the older me started talking about that Lush chick Ken me had been talking about. She leans into me to listen closely to what I have to say. “D’ya think they’ve seen us have sex?” I whisper discreetly. I notice the way her eyes widen and pink starts to glow over her cheeks. “Maybe… think they’ve had a little love session with their hand thinking of you? I don’t doubt it..” I whisper crudely. She shifts in her seat and I feel so smug now, I grab her rolling chair and I pull her closer.

“I bet they’re always thinking of you. Even after bangin’ some random chick, they wish it was you in their bed. They’re probably single on purpose, miserable with anyone that isn’t you. I would be. I’d never be able to settle down with anyone as long as I dream of you. I’d be happier alone than with some girl I like halfway knowing my whole heart and soul belongs to you and you alone. Ever across the entire multiverse. I’d choose you.” I press my lips to her warm cheek, then I let my mouth move over hers to kiss her properly. She tilts her head in my direction and accepts my tongue into her mouth when I tease the seam of her lips.

“Dean,” I hear older me’s voice. I pull away from her mouth and I lick my lips, staring down at her as she tries to recompose herself. Everyone is staring at us and I know they’re definitely me because they don’t even look away when I catch them.

“I’m not sorry about that,” I say smugly, “you all wanna do it anyway.” I feel her hand squeeze my thigh and I stay quiet, but so does the rest of the room. After a few minutes of silence, older me starts to talk again about a plan of action in case Lush gets out of hand. I lean forward again and I ask her one last thing, “you want them to fuck you, don’t you?”

She blushes harder somehow and she takes the cold glass of water in front of her to cool down. I don’t need her to answer verbally, her body language is enough to tell me just what she’s thinking. My brain starts to imagine ways I could fulfil her fantasy when the bearded me talks to her and asks, “did the boss tell ya what he did, then?”

He appears more thoughtful about the question he asks than like he wants to gossip. The question piques my interest and I lean towards him. He’s watching us closely, there’s no jealousy or envy, his presence is just full of love and respect like every other me has exuded since we’ve crossed paths. “‘S nothin’ we all wouldn’t do,” he defends, almost as if he thinks I’m trying to get proof that this place is too good to be true. Like a true me, he suspects I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.

“What did he do?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound urgent. The three of us lean in as subtly as we could to hear each other.

“He disintegrated his whole timeline by saving you.”

➥ the love letter collection : part two

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 6 months

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A Mother Always Knows

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: angst, being depressed and heartbroken, being cheated on (implicit), being torn down by someone you thought loved you, fluff at the end

Summary: Your life changed six months ago when the one person you were in love with broke your heart--shattered it to pieces. It's been six months since you've smiled or had a happy thought. When you meet JJ, that all might change.

Square Filled: donut (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Six months ago, you were the life of the party. Six months ago, you were very happy. Six months ago, you had been so full of light and love that it gave your family a metaphorical toothache from how sweet you were being. Six months ago seems like a long time because now everything is different.

Now, you spend your days in your room with the curtains closed so that no light shines in. Now, you only get out of bed to go to work. Now, depression has set in ways you never thought depression could go. You don’t eat dinner with your family (if you eat at all), you don’t go out with them anymore, and you spend your time off in bed crying.

Six months ago, your world ended because the girl who you thought was the love of your life shattered your heart to pieces. That woman made you believe you were the best person in the world. She made you believe you had her heart. She allowed you to confide in her, you told her all your deepest secrets and thoughts, and she made you feel safe. Then, six months ago, she took every insecurity you had about yourself and every secret you told her and ripped you to shreds.

She spread rumors about you based on those insecurities, told your secrets around town, cheated on you, talked shit about you, and broke you down. The worst thing is she never told you why she did it. Did she ever love you? You two were together for a year before she completely turned against you. All that’s been in your head is the question, Why? Why did she do it? Why you?

Your mom and dad are sitting downstairs in the kitchen chatting when your mom hears you leave your room to go to the bathroom. She can hear you sniffling as if you had been crying recently. That’s all you do these days. All you do is cry and it breaks her heart.

“Richard, what are we going to do? How are we going to fix this? She can’t stay up there forever.”

“I don’t know. I wish I had a better answer,” he sighs.

“My baby is hurting and I don’t know how to help her. I mean, we’ve had our fair share of heartbreak but this seems like the worst of the worst. She really loved that girl.”

“We could take her to therapy.”

“No, that’ll only make it worse.” She looks over at the fridge and sees the grocery list taped to the door. “I’ll handle this.”

She gets up and treads carefully up the stairs. You’re already back in your room, in the dark, staring at the wall in shame. She knocks on your door before coming in without waiting for permission.

“Hey,” you sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” All you can do is give her a shrug. She walks across your room to your window and yanks the curtains open. The room floods with natural light and you groan as you hide under the covers. “Come on. Ger up. You’re coming with me to the store.”

“I don’t want to,” you mumble.

“Y/N.” Shit, she even middle-named you. “Honey, it’s been six months.”

“It feels like yesterday,” you softly cry.

“No, no tears.” Your mom immediately sits down at the edge of the bed and pulls the covers back from you. She reaches out and wipes your cheeks. “Honey, I’ve been where you‘ve been. I had my heart broken before. I felt like the world was against me and I didn’t want to leave my bed. I know it hurts. I know it’s hard. I’m not saying it’s going to get better overnight but it will get better. All you need to do is take a step. A baby step. Get out of bed. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“I guess not.”

She helps you out of bed. You look so skinny from not eating as much as you used to. Your mom walks to the window and cracks it open to filter out the air inside the room. Staying cooped up in here isn’t good for you or the air. You don’t get dressed up too fancy to go to the store and opt to wear some sweats and a tank top with your hair pulled up in a messy bun.

“Do I have to go?” you groan as she brings you downstairs.

“Getting some exercise will be good for you. It’s just grocery shopping. I’ll even get you your favorite snack.”

Your mom drags you to the store that is crowded with people trying to do their shopping before the weekend. Your mom immediately goes to the bread aisle where the donuts and other sweets are. If you and your mom have one thing in common, it’s your love for desserts. She picks out a strawberry and chocolate one and holds them up side by side so you can see them.

“Strawberry of chocolate?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“I’ll get both. I know they’ll be gone before tomorrow morning anyway,” she chuckles and puts both boxes in the cart.

She moves onto the first thing on her list while you trudge behind her. Your head is hung low so you’re not looking where you’re going. You knock into a person and reach out to steady yourself so you both don’t fall on your ass.

“I am so sorry.” You look up and see the most gorgeous woman ever. She is skinny, blonde, has blue eyes, and is a bit taller than you. She apologizes at the same time as you but you shake your head before she can say anything more. “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The woman gives you a small smile and steps around you to continue with her grocery shopping. You stop walking to watch her descend the aisle. She picks up some rye bread and puts it into her cart before looking at her list. Your mom realizes that you’re not behind her and looks over her shoulder to see you staring at the woman. She grins and walks back over to you. She nudges you closer to the woman, and you look at her like she’s crazy.

“What are you doing?”

“Go for it.”

“What? No, let’s just hurry up so I can get back into bed.”

You look back at the woman who has moved further down the aisle. Your mom kind of pushes you away from her to give you forced courage. The sharp movement causes the blonde woman to look at you. She gives you a dazzling smile and your heart flutters with hope. This gives you the confidence to walk up to her since she’s already seen you heading her way.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiles.

“My name is Y/N.”

“JJ.”

“Look, I don’t normally do this. I’m not dressed so cute, either. I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look great. So comfy. I wish I could get into a pair of sweats and relax. Is it safe to assume you’re not seeing anyone?”

“Yeah,” you nod shyly.

“Sorry, am I reading this wrong? You don’t seem very comfortable.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I’ve been in a funk recently. I’m usually much more fun.”

“Well, when you come out of it, would you like to get coffee with me or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You find yourself smiling at her request, even as she puts her number in your phone. You look back at your mom to see her already smiling at you. This is the first time she’s seen you smile in six months. JJ will be good for you, she just knows it.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau fic #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau fanfic #jennifer jareau fiction #jennifer jareau fan fiction #jennifer jareau fluff #jennifer jareau angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #cm fanfiction #cm fic #cm

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montywithchildhoodtrauma · 3 months

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So from the look of the new hotel Lucifer might be staying with them from this point on, becoming a beloved main character with the rest.

I love this fact but... I haven't seen the topic of his depression come up yet with this new living situation.

Sooo head cannons.

Warning, this will contain suicidal thoughts, intrusive thoughts, self harm, throwing up, and thoughts of self harm. If this triggers you in any way shape or form, please, for your safety don't read.

People often talk about depression meaning you sleep a lot and you're sad all of the time. And yes that is one thing that can happen, but people don't often talk about the exhaustion of being too tired to do anything and your brain to loud and filled with hateful thoughts that force you awake. Lucifer often lays in bed for hours, the night ticking away slowly. He knows that he has to get up soon but the thought of not getting any sleep hurts his head. But he can't, and he doesn't know why- hes exhausted and tired but his head wont shut up-

He stays in his room for days on end. Any attempts to coax him out of his room fail, after a while they just start leaving plates of food that never get eaten outside of his room.

He often forgets to eat. Doesn't deserve it anyway

Sometimes he purposely doesn't eat. Hes just gonna throw it up again-

He wanders the halls of the hotel when everyone else is, theoretically, asleep.

Man drinks so much coffee he should be double dead, five times over.

The only one who hasn't vented to Husker. (Its only a matter of time- Huskers hidden all of the wine and champagne)

Everyone now has their own custom Duck! Alastor's is set to explode soon but lets not talk about that (A lamb duck is set carefully at the bottom of a lovely statue, wonder who it could be for...)

After staying in his room for days he does wayyy too much for everyone, it's concerning.

Depression meals! (Its- two slices of bread and cheese?)

Non depression meals! (Very nice- Coffee isn't a meal)

He and Alastor have been given separate kitchens due to... complications...

Pancakes and jambalaya don't go together- Holy fuck, they don't go together-

He keeps his windows shut and covered at all times, no matter how stuffy his room gets- It would be so easy to just fall, everyone would think its an accident, no one would care~

The windows stay shut. One little lock between him and a free fall

He tries to avoid Nifty as much as possible, not that shes really interested in him anymore, she just... freaks him out.

Depression meal squared! ( All he did was add a second slice of cheese)

Wonder where all this blood's coming from... it's staining the corners of Lucifer's sleeves.

A few knives from the kitchen have gone missing... ah Nifty probably took them.

Interventions won't work! Hes the king of hell!

Damn it, the puppy eyes get him every time.

Refuses to join in on the trust exercises. Hes almost as stubborn as Angel on that front.

He often forgets what hes doing or what he should be doing.

I'll make a part two if anyone wants me to!

#hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin characters #hazbin hotel lucifer #self h@rm #tw depressing thoughts #eating disorder trigger warning #husker

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months

Text

In The After

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: angst, being fearful of hydra, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Endgame in finding the stones while steve is in the 1970s snuck into sheild he did find a past y/n who works for peggy as her first escape from hydra he wanted to interact but he knew she dosent know him yet there . After bruce snapped including the last fight as the portal emerge with the wakanda king t'challa his sister shuri and more y/n came out of the portal and joined him in battle. Post battle sadly tony sacrificed himself and a quiet funeral post endgame both settle down as steve returned the stones . Its all peaceful ....till they got news zemo escaped and bucky had to get him for help

Summary: Steve is heartbroken after the big prize fight with Thanos on Wakanda. He didn't think he could ever get as low as he did when he lost Bucky the first time. Now he's lost his best friend and his girlfriend. Until Scott Lang comes up with a solution that might fix everything.

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: time travel (2021) for @avengersbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Steve’s not sure when the last time he smiled was. Almost everyone he loves is either dead or gone. Tony is missing. You and Bucky are dusted. Sam is missing. T’Challa and Wanda are dusted. Vision was murdered. Clint is missing. Scott is missing. The only people still left are Natasha, Bruce, and Thor.

Nat sees the heartbreak in his eyes whenever he thinks about you and the life you two could have had. Things were just starting to get good with you and Thanos came and ruined it all. Someone who thought he was above everyone else and thought he could wield so much power took what he wanted and left. He doesn’t know where the hell he is but they have scanners looking for him--deep space scanners.

Steve had his life practically laid out for him. He knew where he was going and where he wanted to go. He had you by his side but now you’re gone. His best friend. The love of his life. Vixen. His partner in this Cat and Mouse game you two love playing. There is a support group for people who lost their loved ones in the Snap, and he goes to it regularly thinking it will help him get over you.

It doesn’t.

If it does anything, it reminds him that you’re not by his side. He wouldn’t be here if Thanos didn’t dust you. Maybe he had control over who got dusted and who didn’t or maybe he didn’t have control but all he knows is that three of his best friends are gone and he doesn't know if they are coming back. Five years of wishing they were by his side, to wake up and see your face. Five years of pain and agony of losing hope every time he tried to gain it back.

That is until Scott Lang came back from wherever he was and provided Steve with a plan—a plan to bring everyone back. Steve thought Scott was dusted. Turns out, he was stuck in the Quantum Realm after trying to get particles for Hope’s mother. Five years is a long time to be stuck somewhere but for Scott, it was five hours.

Time works differently in the Quantum Realm, the kind of time that is gonna bring everyone back.

Tony was convinced to help once he was promised that he was going to keep what he gained in the last five years. He married Pepper and had a beautiful daughter. If bringing people back means losing what he has now, he isn’t going to help. However, he thinks he can do it while still keeping his family. Natasha, Clint, Steve, Bruce, Rocket, and Scott were all for the plan. All Steve thought about was you and the thought of bringing you back.

Thor took some convincing because he fell into a deep depression. Thanos took everything from him and caused him so much pain. He stopped taking care of himself and really embraced the darkness. Still, the thought of seeing his family again is what made him want to do this.

What’s left of the Avengers stand on the new platform that will allow them to travel back in time. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Scott go back to the attack on New York to grab three stones, Nat and Clint go to Vormir for the soul stone, Nebula and Rhodey go to Morag to get the power stone, and Thor and Rocket go to Asgard to get the reality stone.

Steve did his part and managed to grab the mind stone after fighting his 2012!self. Bruce had to convince the Ancient One to give up the time stone, but he got it in the end. Tony and Scott had the space stone in their hands only to lose it by 2012!Hulk smashing the place up. 2012!Loki escaped but that seems like someone else’s problem.

With no space stone in hand, Steve and Tony were at a loss for words. It’s either getting the stone or going home. They can’t do both. Scott panics for the fate of his friends until Tony realizes there is another year that has the space stone and more particles to get home. Scott exercised caution but Steve and Tony travelled back to the 1970s not knowing if they were going to make it back home.

Steve is in charge of getting more particles while Tony is on Tesseract duty. The only place that would have both at the same time is the camp where Steve trained in the 40s. Steve and Tony took the elevator down to the lower levels with Steve going to one end and Tony to the other. Steve has to lure Hank Pym away from his office to steal four more particles, and he gets the hell out of there as soon as he’s done.

Down the hall are some officers who are talking to a woman Steve and Tony saw on the elevator, and Steve dips into the closest office he can find to prevent his cover from being blown. He won’t dare leave Tony behind even though it’d be very easy. Plus, he needs to give Tony some more particles so he can come home, too.

Steve waits for the officers to pass by before leaving, but he stops short when he sees a picture of him on the desk. Not just any picture, a picture of him when he was in training… before the serum. The only person who would have this is Peggy, and he spots her in the next room over talking to someone. Man, she looks different. She looks the same but the years haven’t been kind to her. He sees a ring on her finger and is content that she found someone to spend her life with.

He’s moved on from her and is about to leave when the person she’s talking to comes into view. Tears brim the surface of his eyes at the sight of you. It’s been so long since he’s seen your face. Damn, you look so much younger… more vulnerable… broken. How the hell are you here? By 1970, you were still under Hydra’s control. He thought their base of operations was in Europe. Why are you here in the States?

Peggy turns to you and says something to which you nod apprehensively. Whereas before you were confident and strong, you are timid and angry now. You’re unsure of yourself or the decisions you’re making. You look at the desk which is overflowing with papers when you become rigid. You lift your head but your eyes don’t quite make it to the window. It’s like you can sense someone is watching you.

Steve should get the hell out of here.

Peggy hands you some files off the desk and asks you to file them away. You take them with a sigh and leave the room. Okay, now Steve should get the hell out of there before he runs into you. He’s about to when he hears the door creak open.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve whips around to face you. He expected you to be pissed but you’re terrified. You’re in fear. Why? “I asked you a question.”

“Y/N…”

“How do you know who I am?”

“This is kind of hard to explain,” he chuckles nervously. “I’m not from around here.” Something snaps inside of you that causes you to lash out. You charge at Steve and send a deadly blow to his face. He falls to the ground, not expecting this punch. “Wait! Y/N!”

You take out your knife from your thigh holster and swipe at Steve. He slams onto Peggy’s desk, knocking the picture of him to the ground. He doesn’t have anything to shield himself with, and if he lands wrong, the Pym particles in his pocket will get crushed. Whenever you swipe at him, he slaps your hand away, and he kicks at your knees which causes you to crumble to the ground. Your knife goes flying out of your hands and across the room. You’re a much better fighter than this; well, the version he knows is.

“Stay the hell away from me!” you gasp. “I am not going back to them!”

“I’m not with Hydra--”

“I don’t care! I am not going back to them.”

You get up and leave the room. Steve should leave and get back to Tony but he has to make this right with you. He makes sure the Pym particles are good before chasing after you.

“Y/N!” You don’t stop trying to get away from him. “Vixen!”

That causes you to halt in your steps. A panic attack starts creeping up your throat as you turn to face him with fearful eyes.

“Where did you hear that name if you’re not from Hydra?” Steve opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “Did Bucky send you?”

“No, I’m not with Hydra.” Steve cuts himself off because he can see the damage he’s doing to you. You escaped Hydra to be free and he’s only pushing your mind back further into yourself. “I’m sorry.”

He turns and leaves you alone in the hallway. You look around to make sure no one else is coming before scurrying off. Steve meets Tony on ground level, and the two of them head back to their own time with everyone else… except Natasha. She never made it back. She gave her life for the soul stone, a much-needed sacrifice in order to obtain it.

With all the stones back in one room, Bruce took it upon himself to snap since he was the one who had the most exposure to gamma radiation. It almost took his arm off, but it seemed to work. However, that moment wasn’t meant to last forever because the unthinkable happened. Thor killed Thanos from their world, but they didn't expect Thanos from the past to make an appearance.

One of the biggest battles of their lifetime started and ended with Thanos. It was even bigger than the one in Wakanda. Thanos vs. the Avengers: Part II. Just when it was looking like the Avengers were going to lose again, Dr. Strange and every sorcerer used their magic and brought everyone back together. Sam, Peter, the Guardians, T’Challa, Wanda, Hope, every fallen soldier who lost their lives, and two of the most important people to Steve: you and Bucky.

The growing number of Avengers vs the growing number of Thanos’ army was unmatched but you gave it your all. You tapped into Vixen one last time to help aid in the fight as much as Bucky used his skills as the Winter Soldier. A battle isn’t a battle without some casualties, and this one took the biggest of all.

Natasha didn’t make it back from the first part of the mission, and Tony didn’t survive the last part.

His death brought down Thanos’ army within seconds, causing them to dust away into the sky. His death took a toll on everyone who fought alongside him, especially Pepper and Morgan. Once the dust has settled and you’re given time to fucking breathe, the first person you go running to is Steve. He catches you in his arms as you kiss him like you haven’t in a decade.

“I fucking missed you,” you whisper against his lips.

“You have no idea,” Steve smiles.

Tony was given a proper funeral a couple of weeks after the big battle once the area was cleaned. The Avengers compound might very well be destroyed without hope of rebuilding, but it doesn’t matter where you live. You’re all Avengers and will come together if and when the time is needed.

“It’s been a long five years without you,” Steve confesses.

You two are on the pier across the lake just to have a moment alone. Pepper encouraged everyone to stay and mingle but she and Morgan took time to themselves in the house where no one else was allowed.

“I wish it didn’t have to happen at all. For me, I was there one second and gone the next. When I came back, I was shocked to learn five years had passed. You must have been so lonely.”

“It was hard. I went low.”

“How did you guys manage to get us back?”

“We tracked down Thanos after it happened but he had already used the stones again to destroy them. He claims he broke them down to their atoms so that no one could ever use them again. Thor killed him which put us at a loss. We were lost for five years until Scott came back and gave us the idea to time travel.

“To put a long story short, I ended up in 1970 with Tony to grab the Tesseract. I saw you there. I swear I was going to leave but you confronted me about being with Hydra and attacked me. You were so lost, so broken. I knew by talking to you I was damaging you, so I left.”

“Yeah, that was the first time I ever escaped Hydra. I ended up in the UK where I met Peggy. She took pity on me and flew me to the States to work with her and SHIELD. It was all for nothing since Hydra found me a few months later. I was scared and confused, and I didn’t know who I was then. It makes sense I’d lash out at you. I didn’t want to go back.”

Steve reaches over and grabs your hand.

“Living those five years without you was hell, and I can’t do that again. I missed you too goddamn much.”

“I’m here now,” you smile and move closer to him. “I don’t ever plan on leaving again.”

“You know, in those five years, all I could think about was the things I never got to say to you. The things I never got to prove to you. I promised myself that if I ever got the chance, I’d ask you one important question.” Steve takes out a small box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a beautiful golden band with a diamond in the middle of it. On either side of the diamond are three smaller diamonds that make it look elegant and vintage. It reminds you of the ring your mother had. “You’re the love of my life. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you giggle without hesitation.

Steve takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto your left ring finger. It’s simple, beautiful, and has everything you need. Steve is your home away from home, and you can’t wait to finally start living your life the way you want it.

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