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deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist · 2 days ago

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SO damn good! My favorites:

“Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you. He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.” Alright, it’s getting dusty in here. And “The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him.” And theeere it is - my poor sweet boy…

I absolutely cackled at “Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.”

“Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.” This is why I love Dean - so glad she finally realized it!

“Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!" / “Yes… I didn’t mean to make you hate me.” <chef’s kiss>

“There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you…Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met.” was fabulous, but “Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?” / “No. But-“ / You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love." Perfection!

And you totally redeemed Ben with "You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone. "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it." And I *love* that the her in his universe is more his speed. You managed to give them all the potential for a happy ending, and I simply love this - Brava!!

Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader

POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover

Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)

Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Dean POV

Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.

And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.

Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.

Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.

Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.

Not some asshole from another universe.

The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.

The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.

Fuck.

His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.

Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.

It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.

Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.

He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.

He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.

Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.

That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.

Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.

Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.

It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.

However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.

But then Ben had shown up.

When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.

But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.

Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.

All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.

Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.

The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"

Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?

Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.

Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.

Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"

"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white. He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."

Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.

"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.

"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.

"I'm kinda what?"

"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"

Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she hasn't made up her mind."

"But why?"

"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"

Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"

"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.

He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.

"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.

"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"

At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."

"I think it does."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."

"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."

But I do want her.

The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.

"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.

Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"

"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."

"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.

"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.

"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.

Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"

"Just leave me alone Sammy."

And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.

Reader POV

Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.

It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.

You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.

It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty about.

You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.

Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.

Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-

You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.

You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.

In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.

No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-

The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.

Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.

But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.

Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.

You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.

Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.

Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.

Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.

At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.

Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.

Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?

The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.

It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.

You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.

You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.

But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.

You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.

Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.

Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.

You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.

Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.

You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.

The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.

But what?

He turns when he hears you walk in.

You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.

"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.

"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"

"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."

You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.

Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-

"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.

"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.

"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"

"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."

Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?

The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.

You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."

You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.

Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"

"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.

Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.

"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."

"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."

Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"

You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.

But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.

Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-

"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"

"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.

"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"

"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.

The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.

If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?

You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.

Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!

You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.

"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe."

Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"

"No I-"

"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.

"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.

"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.

Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!

"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.

"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."

"But-"

"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"

His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.

Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?

"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.

"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.

"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?

Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.

“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”

Is he out of his MIND?!

"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.

"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together

"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"

You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.

"This is different!" He fumes.

"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"

Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?

You didn't think that you did.

Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.

"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight. "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"

You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."

"I compliment you." He huffs back.

"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"

Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."

"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."

"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."

"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"

"That's not what I-"

"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.

His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.

You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”

Why is it a big deal?

“It just is!"

"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.

"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”

“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.

Who does he think he is? We're not together.

“That’s not what this is about-“

“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”

"It is my business!"

"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"

"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.

A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.

"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”

“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"

“I’m not trying to!”

“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"

The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.

Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.

"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.

"Thought what?"

"That you wanted me to-"

"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.

"Well-"

"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."

Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.

Dean pauses. "What?"

"Why after years of you hating me-"

"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.

"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.

It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.

"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"

"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"

You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.

Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?

"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.

Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.

Holy shit.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.

The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.

You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.

He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.

"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.

The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-

Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.

“What are you-“

“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.

His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.

You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.

You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.

But he didn't, he never did. And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.

Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.

"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"

Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."

"Then why?"

He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."

"I'm okay."

"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"

"This?"

"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.

"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.

"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."

You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"

There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.

"No.”

“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”

“No. But-"

You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."

Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"

His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."

Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.

"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.

You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."

"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.

"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.

"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.

Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.

"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.

"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone. "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."

"But-" You try to say again.

Oh this is so awkward.

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.

Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.

Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."

The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.

"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does. It only makes Ben smirk wider.

Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.

"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."

"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."

Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."

"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.

The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.

The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.

But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.

Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."

Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.

Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."

"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”

Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.

And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.

"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.

Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"

"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.

"Just something come on-"

"But why-"

"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.

Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.

You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"

"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.

"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.

Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.

"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.

"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.

"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.

Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.

"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."

Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."

"Anything that I can do to convince you?"

"I can think of a few things…"

Ben/Soldier Boy POV

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.

He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.

Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.

He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.

Fuck.

He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.

And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.

But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.

Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.

I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!

Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.

And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.

Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.

Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.

Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.

"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.

The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.

Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.

"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.

"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."

"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.

He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.

The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.

"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.

Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.

"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.

Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.

"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.

"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.

Because the person standing next to his desk was you.

This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."

But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.

He thought it was cute.

As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.

It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.

"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"

"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.

"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."

Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."

You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.

Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.

"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"

"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.

Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.

Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.

"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."

"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.

He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.

"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.

It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.

"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."

He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.

A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗

Reveal of the Poll:

🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.

💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.

Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed

@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@chriszgirl92

@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug

@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never

@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned

@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27

@funkenniffler

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crowsofdarkness · 21 hours ago

Text

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

“UGLY! MOTHER! FUCKERS!,” I bellowed as my knife sliced through an alien's throat, three stabs, as they had me pinned to the ground.

With a swift kick, it fell to the ground in a heap and I was back on my feet in a flash; just in time to send my knife into another alien's head.

Thanos’ army was fast, strong, and not all that appealing to look at. It seemed that now matter how many we killed, hundreds more appeared.

“Bucky?!” I yelled while looking around.

In the midst of everything, I had become lost in the fray. Bucky and Steve were somewhere on the other end of the battlefield. My long hair was a mess, blowing in the winds, as I frantically looked around. I was fighting side by side with the many men of the Wakanda army.

All too quick, my veins filled with fear and my skin tingled with death.

Bucky.

My head snapped to the left and this time, my own anger filled me as I saw the sight in front of me.

Bucky was on the ground, alien on top of him, as he tried to fight it off of him with his small knife. Darkness took over my vision, clouding my judgement, and the all too familiar warmth spread to the tips of my fingers, sparking to life.

I shot multiple balls of fire at the alien on top of Bucky, who watched in slight horror as it fell to ash around him.

“SHE’S BACK!” Sam’s voice yelled into the coms.

Blinking my eyes a view times, the darkness was gone and I was staring at Bucky’s concerned face.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, cupping my chin.

Time had stopped for a split second around us.

“Never better,” I grinned while smacking my hands together.

They sparked again, flames burning my finger tips.

We fought for a few moments longer before coming to a halt when lighting struck around us, causing the fighting to stop.

A few inches from me stood someone I hadn’t seen in a very, very long time.

“Long time no see, Thor.” I smiled towards him.

“Y/N? You changed your hair,” He smirked, ruffling my hair.

I had almost forgotten that my powers changed it to a vibrant red.

“You made some new friends?” I pointed towards the racoon and the walking tree.

“This is my new friend Rocket and Tree,” he introduced.

“I am Groot,” the tree said.

I nodded. “I am Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N! I could use some back up over here!” Steve’s voice yelled into the coms.

My feet sprinted over towards him, blasting away any aliens that got in the way. Steve stood in front of me, blood pouring from a wound on his lip and I gently wiped it away.

I went to speak but felt myself getting pounced on from behind, head smacking hard against a rock.

“Shit,” I groaned.

Sharp teeth chomped towards my face and the blood pooling from my forehead caused my vision to fade, in and out. The drool from the alien dripped down on me, an indication that he was seconds away from ending it all.

The alien was off before I could register that Steve had kicked him, sending him flying meters away.

“Y/N,” he cooed while helping me to sit up.

“I’m alright,” I stated as I smacked his hands away. “I heal fast, remember.”

Steve sighed, his fingers brushing against the open wound of my forehead. I couldn’t stop the loud hiss that fell from my lips.

“GUYS! VISION NEEDS BACKUP!” Bruce’s voice rang through the coms.

Steve hesitated while looking at me, weighing the decision in his mind.

“Go, I’ll be fine,” I nodded.

He was still apprehensive but when I set an alien ablaze that snuck up behind him, he knew that I was in fact alright.

Once he left, I willed myself to my knees, trying to gain whatever strength I had left. This fight had taken so much out of me, not having to exert this much energy in such a long time, and I knew that this was it.

“I’m going to die alone,” I muttered with a sigh.

“You’re not alone.”

Natasha helped me to my feet, brushing the dust off my shoulders.

“Now, I know I didn’t teach you to give up so easily,” She tsked.

“Moment of weakness,” I shrugged.

Suddenly, the wind had picked up, circling around us with a soft breeze, the air shifted with an uneasy feeling. Natasha and I shared a knowing look and with a quick nod, we both ran towards Steve and Vision, who had joined us on the battlefield.

“He’s here,” Vision spoke.

I turned my back to them, speaking into my com. “Bucky, where are you?”

Silence.

“Damnit,” I cursed.

Steve pulled me closer to him before speaking into his com. “Everyone in my position. We have in-coming.”

A sudden portal opened in front of us, a giant purple titan stepping out of it. I gasped, the fear of knowing that there would be no way we could stop him loomed close.

“That’s him,” Banner said.

Steve looked at me, engaging his shield. “Eyes up. Stay sharp.”

The flames burned with hate as I shot multiple fireballs towards Thanos, who had easily dodge them. His large hand wrapped around my throat, lifting me with ease.

“Pathetic,” he spat, throwing me to the side.

I landed against a tree with a loud, painful groan and I could hear Steve scream my name. My body lay defeated in the dirt, eyes watching as my friends tried to fight against Thanos, only to fail.

Bucky’s screams came from the bushes, gun firing at Thanos.

“Bucky!” I yelled, watching him getting thrown in front of me.

Tired hands and feet crawled over towards him, turning his heavy body over so I could look in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” I pondered, brushing the hair out of his face.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbled.

His vibranium fingers wiped the blood from my head.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him with a soft kiss.

Bucky let out a loan groan, the pain of the fight catching up to him. “I’m starting to think we should have stayed in bed.”

The giggle that fell through my lips was cut short as the screams of Wanda filled the air. My full attention was on her as I watched Thanos bring Vision back to life, only to end it just as quick, pulling the mind stone from him. Vision’s body fell to a heap on the ground, right next to Wanda.

“No,” I trembled, tears welled in my eyes.

Thanos stood tall, all six stones in hand. Thor, however, had arrived out of nowhere, laying his axe in Thanos’ chest. But it didn’t matter, no matter how deep Thor dug his axe into Thanos.

“You should have gone for the head,” Thanos said.

Before anyone could register what happened, he raised his hand with a quick snap.

“NO!” I bellowed.

Thanos’ hand burned, his gauntlet almost to ash, as the aftermath of what he did started to lay around us.

“What did you do?!” Thor demanded.

As fast as he arrived, Thanos was gone.

Steve stumbled his way over to Bucky and I, helping us to our feet. After giving us a quick once over, he turned his attention to Thor.

“Where did he go?” He questioned.

“Thor, where did he go?!” I fumed.

“Y/N?”

Bucky’s voice was filled with fear and worry as he spoke my name; it came off so quiet from his lips that I almost hadn’t heard.

Steve and I both turned our attention towards Bucky, who suddenly was dusting away with the wind, body disappearing.

“BUCKY!” I yelled running towards him.

My knees fell to the ground, hands spreading through the ashes of where Bucky once lay.

“NO, BUCKY!”

My scream echoed throughout the forest, the high pitch banshee-like yell causing whatever birds there were left to flock away from me. Fire shot from my hands, setting the grass and trees around us a blaze in a warm fire. Everyone winced at the sound of my yells, cries for my lost love, as I buried myself deeper into the ground, hoping that this was a bad dream. Bucky was still here, he hadn’t left me.

A loud, painful scream had clawed its way through the tough confines of my throat as I doubled over in pain to clutch my stomach. It felt like my insides were being ripped out and with a choking sob, I spit piles of dusty ash to the ground. My fingers shook as I dug into the ground, the realization of what happened coming to light.

I had now lost every single part of Bucky in the snap. Not only was he gone but what I was growing inside of me had vanished before I even knew it was there.

I was so engrossed in my own pain that I hadn't noticed others had disappeared as well. Until Steve pulled me from the ground, into his chest.

My cries came out muffled against his suit as I screamed and kicked against him. “He’s not gone. He can’t be!”

Steve cupped my cheeks, forcing my broken gaze to his. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Knuckles turned white as I clutched onto him with whatever strength I had left, fearing that he would leave me too.

“What do we do now?” Natasha asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted before hushing my cries with a soft kiss to the top of my head.

For once in his entire life, Steve didn’t have a plan and that absolutely terrified him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #vaz prizrak bucky barnes

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xfgpng · 2 days ago

Text

timeless…

— [ nsfw ] :: just fluffy sex (kinda?)

— wc :: 979

2 years, 4 months and 16 days. he tries not to think about her anymore but he sees her face in everyone he talks to and his dating life has pretty much gone to shit.

he misses her more than he’d like to admit and it hurts. whoever said it gets better with time told a bold face fucking lie and he hopes they have a bad day.

he still hears her laughter when he’s alone, feels her skin against his in all of his dreams and nightmares that sleeping is a luxury these days.

yuuji knows it’s his fault. he left when he could’ve stayed for her but he didn’t. he was young, he still is but especially then. the end of high school, moving out the city.. he wasn’t even sure about volleyball anymore and everything was too overwhelming and he wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to speak to him ever again, he deserved it for breaking both their hearts.

it’s why his breath catches in his throat when he walks into the newest volleyball gym and sees her. she’s as beautiful as always and he knows how much she wanted to get into sports management. she’d always loved the sport and it’s one of the reasons he fell in love with her in the first place.

apart of him wanted to start up again because he missed it, it was a huge part of his life for so long but another part of him, a more sadistic or masochistic part of him, he doesn’t know anymore, was doing this to feel closer to her again and here she was, 2 years, 4 months and 20 days later looking just as beautiful as she’s always been and his chest hurts.

he doesn’t believe in coincidences, never has with the way life played out for the last 2 years and something months.

she’s talking to the coach of his team, writing notes and pointing to something on a board nearby. he can’t focus on anything other than her and he can smell her perfume without trying to and it’s making his knees weak and he might just cry.

what wakes him up is a ball to his face and he finds himself laying on his back but it doesn’t hurt, he definitely feels lightheaded but he can see the ceiling and lights and then … her

she’s saying something to him, he feels her cool hand on his head, a warm cloth against his nose and she looks exasperated but he knows her well, despite their time apart, she’s not mad at him. she’s shooting a nasty glare towards the guy from the other team who was obviously trying to be funny on purpose.

he here’s here when she calls him

“asshole” y/n huffs, “you seriously need to be more careful, are you childish?”

the guy mumbles an apology but he’s smirking and he knows she’ll launch herself at him but she’s grown up because she just rolls her eyes and looks down at him.

“-you okay?” she asks and he thinks he nods, thinks he says yes but he’s not sure. he’s too focused on her hand still holding his head and she smells as good as he remembered.

“i am now” he mumbles, grinning and she rolls her eyes but it’s a lot more fond than just a few moments ago and she’s smiling at him. his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage and he feels so happy even if his head is starting to hurt. she’s smiling at him.

her skin is softer than silk if that’s even possible. he’s love struck, has been since he met her and she cussed him out in the hallway at school.

she clings to him like she’s the one that’s scared he’ll disappear and it’s everything.

“yuuji” she gasps into their kiss and gods it feels so good, better than he remembered.

“i’ve got you baby” he whispers back, his grip on her hips don’t let up and he knows it hurts but she likes it, she begs for more and he’s a weak, weak man. he gives her more.

 he’d do anything for her if she asked.

“feels so good” she moans, her back arching and her chest presses against his naked skin. everything is so hot and sticky and they’re going to have to clean up the bed before they’re able to sleep but he’s so happy, he wants to cry.

“i know” he groans right against her ear, “love being inside you… i missed you so much baby”

she’s nodding, cupping his face and kissing him back just as fiercely and he knows she missed him too. he can feel it in the way she kisses him, the way she scratches up his back, the way she grips him like she doesn’t want him to pull out and he has no intention of doing so anyway.

“you want more baby?” he teases. yuuji can’t resist, he can’t help it. this feels like a dream only it’s better because it’s finally real. he’s never letting her go again.

“please yuuji” she begs, “please fuck me”

“i am fucking you” he grins but he snaps his hips forward and the headboard cracks. neither of them care enough to stop, he can guy ten more headboards but he’s not stopping now, he can’t.

and he thinks he’s died and goes to heaven when she pushes him onto his back and rides him so hard his toes curl. he’s never experienced this with anyone else and he never wants to.

“so good” he moans, he can’t help himself. “please, don’t stop”

his holding onto her as she moves on top of him and he thinks that maybe 2 years, 4 months and something days are worth it if he gets to keep her forever.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #haikyu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu terushima smut #haikyuu terushima x reader #terushima x you #terushima yuji x reader #hq terushima #terushima smut #terushima yuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji #terushima yūji #haikyuu terushima x you #haikyuu terushima x y/n #haikyuu terushima #haikyuu terushima yuuji #haikyuu terushima yuji

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bl-bracket · 3 days ago

Text

Deserved Better Round 1: Boston (Only Friends) vs Haoren (Happy of the End)

[Submitted Reasons Under Cut]

Boston: "He had his flaws but he also had his reasons! He deserved some of his ending, because of his actions, yes. But it was way too much just for not having the same view on relationships as everyone else."

"I mean one could argue that Boston got the best ending out of them all because he's living his best life slutting it up in the US away from his shitty friends while they still have to deal with each other, but like... why did they have to revenge porn my guy TWICE"

"Sure Boston was a bit of a dick (sleeping with a friend’s boyfriend) but he didn’t deserve the treatment he got in the show. He got non-consensually recorded for porn and then was blackmailed by a friend with it. Pretty much all of the Only Friends characters did shitty things but only Boston is unfriended by the group because he was being a bit of a slut. And arguably what Boston did was actually less worse than a lot of the other characters on the show. The retribution he received was incredibly disproportionate."

"Look... was he an asshole? Sure. But the only person he actually deserved ill treatment from was Mew. He did not owe Nick, Top, Cheum or Atom ANYTHING. His privacy was violated multiple times, even though he was always clear about how he wanted things and how important consent was to him. He did not ask Nick to fall for him either, and it was Top who was in an actual relationship and went behind Mew's back to cheat on him. Yeah, i do think that he shouldn't have gone for a guy his friend was interested in because bro code, BUT HE GOT WAY WORSE THAN HE DESERVED."

Haoren: "Sexually abused as a child. Abandoned by his mother. Lived on the streets with nothing to call his own. Gets sex trafficked. Is repeatedly sexually, physically, mentally abused, starved and even gets many severe injuries that require surgery because of the sex trafficking. Escapes from the trafficker but cannot escape that life. His only friend is the guy who trafficked him in the first place. Finds his "mother" again but she doesnt remember him. Still gives her money. She kills herself with no warning. Has to be on the run all the time. Is almost killed at least 10 times, by others or himself. Has to go to jail even though he is a victim. Has to leave the love of his life and lives with zero hope of having him waiting for him outside of jail. He went through enough torture in one life than most characters go through in ten. (If he doesn't win this bracket i will kill) (/hj)"

#bl bracket #bl drama #bl shows #boston #boston ofts #ofts #only friends #only friends the series #boston only friends #haoren #happy of the end #round 1 #deserved better

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 3 days ago

Text

Across the Ropes.. a Zilla Fatu x Oc fanfic.

Chapter 8: Devotion..

As Zilla finished posting, he glanced over at Dahlia, who was folding the extra blanket and humming a soft tune to herself. The peaceful domesticity of the moment hit him hard, filling his chest with warmth. He had never been one for sentimental moments, but something about Dahlia — about them — changed that.

His phone buzzed almost immediately, and he chuckled to himself. “Well, it’s out there now,” he muttered under his breath, scrolling through the flood of notifications.

Dahlia turned her head. “Did you post it?” she asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside him.

Zilla handed her his phone, letting her see the post. Her eyes widened as she read the caption and saw the photo. “You’re really proud of us, huh?” she teased, though her voice was soft with emotion.

“Of course I am,” he said, leaning in to kiss her temple. “I mean, look at you, Dahlia. You’re giving me a whole ass family. How could I not let the world know?”

She smiled, her cheeks flushing. “You’re something else, Isayah. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone make me feel like this.”

“You deserve it,” he said firmly. “And this is just the beginning.”

Suddenly, his phone buzzed again, and they both glanced at it. Zilla’s cousin, Jon, had commented: “Damn, Uce’! You out here doing the most! Congrats to you and D, big moves. Can’t wait to meet the little ones.👶👶👶🔥🔥🔥”

Not far behind was a comment from Jey: “About time you locked it down, Uce’. Proud of you, big dog. Y’all deserve this happiness. Now let’s plan that baby shower, ya heard?”

Dahlia laughed, leaning her head on Zilla’s shoulder. “Your family’s gonna go all out for this, huh?”

“Damn right they are,” Zilla said, scrolling through the growing list of comments. Rhea had even left a note: “Yessss, Dahlia looks like the queen she is! You better keep holding her down, Zilla. So happy for y’all. 🖤👶👶👶”

Dahlia smiled softly. “Your family’s pretty amazing.”

“They’re your family now too,” Zilla reminded her, pulling her closer. “And they’re gonna love these babies just as much as they love you.”

—

Jacob gripped his phone tightly, staring at the text from Jey on the screen: Hey Uce’, making sure you got the invite for the Villa, we got about two rooms left if you wanna come down.

Yeah, I got the invite, Jacob thought, his mind racing. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to go anymore, not with everything on his mind. Zilla was caught up in something with Dahlia—something he wasn’t sure was the right move for his cousin. The post on Instagram had been the last straw, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Zilla was making a huge mistake.

Throwing your life away, Jacob muttered under his breath. For a girl you don’t even know that well?

And then there was Cora Jade. Jacob couldn’t shake the image of Zilla slipping out of her room that night, acting like nothing had happened, like it didn’t matter. But it did matter. Jacob wasn’t blind—he saw the signs, and it didn’t sit right with him. How could Zilla dive into something with Dahlia, someone he barely knew, when he was still acting shady with others?

I’m gonna talk to him, Jacob decided. He’s gotta see that this isn’t what he wants. I’m not just gonna stand by and watch him make this mistake.

He quickly dialed Zilla’s number, but the call went straight to voicemail. Jacob cursed under his breath and ended the call, his irritation growing. He wasn’t about to give up so easily. He grabbed his keys from the counter, slamming the door behind him as he left the gym. His car roared to life as he sped down the familiar streets toward Zilla’s apartment.

By the time Jacob reached the apartment complex, his patience was running thin. He parked quickly, grabbed his keys, and marched toward Zilla’s door, knocking sharply. His fist hit the door with an urgency that matched the frustration boiling inside him. He wasn’t here for small talk. He was here to set things straight.

The door creaked open, revealing a woman he didn’t recognize. She wore a tank top and shorts, her hair hidden under a bonnet, and a face mask covered most of her features.

Jacob frowned, not sure what to make of her. “Sorry, I think I might—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Sabrina cut him off, her tone brisk. “Zilla and Dahlia went to the waterfalls, Jacob.”

The door slammed shut in his face before he could say anything else. Jacob stood there, frozen for a moment, a surge of disbelief running through him. He stepped back, about to turn and leave, when the door opened again.

Sabrina peered through the crack, her eyes meeting his with a half-smile. “You’re cuter when you’re angry by the way,” she said, her voice teasing.

Jacob blinked, taken aback by the random compliment. It wasn’t what he expected—hell, it wasn’t even something he could process. He was just trying to get to Zilla, not deal with a pretty girl like herself making off-hand remarks.

Before he could respond, the door slammed shut again. Jacob shook his head, muttering under his breath. He turned and walked back to his car, the entire encounter feeling like a weird detour on the way to the real problem.

The waterfalls, he thought, starting the engine. I’m gonna make him see this for what it really is.

Jacob drove to Gerald D. Hines Waterfall Park, his thoughts clouded with concern. Zilla needed to hear the truth, whether he liked it or not. Jacob wasn’t going to let his cousin throw his life away—especially not over someone he barely knew.

By the time he arrived, the familiar sound of rushing water filled the air. Jacob parked his car and got out, a sense of determination in his chest. He wasn’t going to stop until Zilla saw things clearly.

This ends today, Jacob thought as he made his way toward the park, hoping to find Zilla and force him to face the reality of what he was about to lose.

Jacob slowed his steps as he approached the sound of Zilla’s voice, his thoughts still a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. The closer he got to the waterfall, the clearer the voices became. He could hear Zilla laughing, his deep tone filled with the same playful energy Jacob had known for years.

As Jacob rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks.

Zilla was standing with Dahlia near the edge of the waterfall, the soft mist from the water catching the light in the air. They were taking selfies together, their faces pressed close as they smiled at the camera. It almost seemed like a perfect moment—a picture-perfect scene. But something about it didn’t sit right with Jacob. The image in front of him felt too… staged. Too perfect.

Dahlia giggled, her voice light and full of affection as she spoke. “I’m having such a great time with you, baby.”

Zilla’s smile grew wider, and without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was tender, full of genuine affection, but to Jacob, it felt like a facade. He knew Zilla better than anyone, and something in the way he held Dahlia told him it wasn’t real. Zilla was lost in this whirlwind, letting himself fall into something he didn’t fully understand.

“You live in Houston all your life,” Zilla said, his voice rich with amusement, “and you’ve never been to the Waterfall park?”

Dahlia shrugged, playful in her response. “It’s touristy. That’s why.”

Zilla chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You gotta know when to come, like right now, at night. It’s the best time to see it.”

Dahlia smiled, her eyes softening as she looked up at him. “You treat me so well,” she said, her words wrapping around Zilla like a warm embrace.

Jacob’s stomach twisted as he watched them. This wasn’t the Zilla he knew—this wasn’t the guy who would laugh it off, crack jokes with his cousins, and take things slow. This was someone else, someone completely caught up in a whirlwind of affection and attention. Zilla had always been careful about who he gave his heart to, but now? It felt like he was rushing into something for the wrong reasons.

And then, Zilla did something that made Jacob’s heart sink even further. He lifted Dahlia up into his arms, as if everything was exactly as it should be. Jacob could hear Zilla’s voice rise in pure joy as he looked down at Dahlia.

“You have made me the happiest man!” Zilla said, his tone full of raw emotion.

It stung, hearing that, even though Jacob knew Zilla didn’t fully understand the weight of what he was saying. He was caught in the moment, wrapped up in the idea of a perfect love story. But Jacob saw the cracks in the surface. He knew his cousin better than anyone else, and something about this wasn’t right. Zilla wasn’t just in love—he was trying to escape something. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and Jacob knew it.

Jacob stood frozen, watching the entire scene unfold in front of him. Every part of him wanted to step in, to pull Zilla away and make him see what was happening. But the reality of it all hit him hard: Zilla wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet.

Jacob exhaled sharply, barely able to keep his emotions in check as he watched Zilla and Dahlia, completely oblivious to the world around them. The image was everything Zilla wanted in that moment, but Jacob knew better. He knew his cousin was slipping, and he was too blinded by his emotions to realize it.

I can’t let this happen, Jacob thought, his heart heavy with a sense of impending loss. I need to get through to him before it’s too late.

But as he stood there, unsure of what to say or do, he knew one thing for sure: Zilla wasn’t the same person anymore. And he wasn’t sure if he could save him from the path he was walking down.

Zilla tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of his cousin standing off to the side, just outside of their little bubble by the waterfall. The recognition was instant, and the surprise in Zilla’s voice was evident as he called out, “Uce, is that you?”

Jacob froze for a moment, his heart racing. He’d been caught, and there was no way to play it cool now. He took a slow, measured step forward, trying to play it off. “Hey man, why you here?”

Zilla’s eyebrow arched, his eyes shifting from the relaxed affection he’d been showing Dahlia to a more questioning, almost defensive look. “Nah, Uce. Why are you here?” he asked, the tone of his voice shifting to one of mild suspicion. “You don’t do tourist spots.”

Neither do you, Jacob thought, a slight bitterness rising in his chest. But he held his ground and answered, his voice light, though his thoughts were far from it. “I was just in the neighborhood.”

Zilla raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “The Houston Galleria neighborhood?”

Jacob faltered for a moment, feeling the weight of Zilla’s question pressing on him. There’s no way out of this now, he thought, but his mind quickly scrambled to find a way to steer the conversation away from whatever Zilla had in mind. “What’s with all the questions?”

Before Zilla could respond, Dahlia stepped forward, her presence immediately softening the tension between the two men. She looked between them, a warm smile spreading across her face, though there was a trace of uncertainty in her eyes.

“I hope we can get on the right foot,” she said, her voice gentle yet sincere. “I know I haven’t been the best person to like.”

Jacob felt a lump form in his throat as she took a step closer and, before he could even react, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. The warmth of her embrace surprised him, breaking down the walls he had put up since their first meeting. She felt so genuine, so kind—an overwhelming contrast to the storm of emotions that churned inside him.

As her arms tightened around him, Jacob found himself momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond. The hug, though brief, felt like a quiet plea for understanding, a chance to start over. The kindness in her actions made something inside Jacob shift. He realized then that it wasn’t just about Zilla anymore—it was about the people Zilla had brought into his life, including Dahlia, who was now trying to extend an olive branch.

Dahlia pulled away slightly, her smile a little softer now. “I really want us to try again, you know? Make things right.”

Jacob stood there for a beat, letting the weight of her words settle on him. It broke him to see such a beautiful and kind soul want to make things better with him—someone who’d only ever judged her from a distance, unaware of what had really been happening behind the scenes. And for a moment, he thought of everything he’d seen Zilla doing—what had been going on when he wasn’t looking. But as his eyes fell on Dahlia again, the urge to protect her, to shield her from all of it, was too strong.

He wrapped his arms around her in return, letting the hug be a silent pact of sorts—one that spoke volumes more than words ever could. “Yeah, we could try this whole thing again,” Jacob said, his voice soft but steady, though inside, a storm still raged.

The reality was hard to ignore—Jacob still felt like something was off, but Dahlia deserved better than the harsh judgments he’d been carrying around. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth, not yet. Not when Zilla was so deeply lost in it all.

Jacob pulled back from the hug, looking at Zilla and then back at Dahlia. He wasn’t sure how to navigate the mess they’d all gotten themselves into, but for now, he was trying to put the pieces back together, even if it meant biting his tongue for the time being.

Zilla watched the interaction from the side, his arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable. Jacob knew that Zilla wasn’t blind to what was happening, and there was a quiet understanding in his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll work on it,” Jacob muttered, though a part of him still felt like he was stepping into something far too complicated for him to fully grasp. And though he’d agreed to give this “new start” a chance, a part of him still couldn’t shake the feeling that Zilla had made a mistake that would affect them all.

As the tension settled between them, Jacob exhaled slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. The sound of the waterfall echoed behind them, the night air crisp against his skin. Zilla kept his arm draped around Dahlia’s waist, holding her close like he wasn’t afraid to show the world she was his.

“So,” Jacob started, looking between them, forcing a smirk, “you two just out here living the tourist life now?”

Dahlia laughed softly, leaning into Zilla. “Well, someone insisted I needed to experience my own city properly.”

Zilla grinned. “She lived here her whole life and never been out here at night, Uce. Had to fix that.”

Jacob nodded, watching the way Dahlia looked up at Zilla with nothing but admiration. It made his stomach twist. The way she smiled at him, the way she trusted him—it was almost enough to make Jacob forget why he’d come here in the first place. Almost.

“You staying at the villa, right?” Zilla asked, changing the subject. “Jey got a room for you.”

Jacob hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah, guess I’ll pull up.”

“Good,” Zilla said, his voice easy, like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t been sneaking around behind Dahlia’s back.

Jacob wanted to confront him so bad, but Dahlia’s presence made it impossible. He had a feeling she didn’t know about Cora. She seemed too secure, too happy. There wasn’t an ounce of suspicion in her face. If she knew what Zilla was really doing, she wouldn’t be looking at him like that.

Jacob cleared his throat, shifting his stance. “Well, don’t let me interrupt y’all little date night,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the path leading back to his parked car. “I’ma head out.”

“You sure?” Dahlia asked. “You could hang with us if you want.”

Jacob shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Zilla smirked. “You just mad ‘cause I caught you lurking.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Man, whatever.” He looked at Dahlia. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too,” she said genuinely.

Jacob turned, walking away from them, but his mind was racing.

This wasn’t over.

Zilla was playing with fire, and Jacob knew damn well that flames like that? They always burned down everything in their path.

Jacob drove away from the waterfall park, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. His mind was clouded with frustration, his chest heavy with conflict.

What the hell are you doing, Isayah?

He could still see Dahlia’s smile in his head, the way she had hugged him like she actually wanted a fresh start. Like she believed he was someone worth having in her life. It made him sick to his stomach because she had no idea.

She doesn’t know what you did, Jacob thought bitterly. She doesn’t know you were just in Cora Jade’s bed.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

Jacob had grown up watching men in his family screw up good things over stupid shit. He had seen how it always started—little secrets, harmless lies, an affair dismissed as a one-time mistake. Then, before they knew it, they had destroyed something real, something that could’ve lasted a lifetime.

And now Zilla was walking that same damn path.

Jacob pulled up to his home, cutting the engine and just sitting in the silence of his car.

Zilla had never been this reckless before. Yeah, he’d had his fun, but he wasn’t stupid. At least, that’s what Jacob had thought. But here he was, about to start a family with a woman he clearly loved, yet still out here playing games like he was single.

The worst part? He could’ve told Dahlia tonight. He should’ve. But when she hugged him, when she looked at him with kindness instead of wariness, something in Jacob broke. He didn’t have it in him to ruin her world. Not yet.

But it’s only a matter of time before Zilla does it himself.

Jacob exhaled, unlocking his phone and pulling up Zilla’s contact.

Jacob: We need to talk. Now.

He stared at the message for a moment before pressing send.

He wasn’t letting this go. Not until Zilla understood exactly what he was about to lose.

—

Zilla and Dahlia walked hand in hand back to his Camaro, the cool night air wrapping around them as the waterfall’s gentle roar faded behind them. Zilla felt at ease—Dahlia’s warmth beside him, her laughter still lingering in his ears. It was moments like this that made him forget everything else.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone to check the time when a notification popped up.

Jacob: We need to talk. Now.

Zilla sighed and locked his phone without responding. Whatever Jacob wanted to say could wait. He wasn’t about to let anything kill his mood, not when tonight had been damn near perfect.

He glanced over at Dahlia, who was adjusting her seatbelt. “You ready to go home, baby?”

She nodded, giving him a tired but content smile. “Yeah, tonight was amazing.”

Zilla smirked as he started the car. “That’s ‘cause you were with me.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. She leaned her head back against the seat as they pulled out of the parking lot, the streetlights casting fleeting glows across her face.

The drive back to Sabrina’s apartment complex was quiet, filled only with the low hum of the radio and the occasional shared glance between them. When they finally arrived, Zilla parked and turned off the engine, stretching his arms. Dahlia yawned as she unbuckled her seatbelt. The two exited the car and they went up to Sabrina’s apartment, Dahlia unlocked the door and they stepped in, once they made it to the room, Dahlia smelled herself and said, “I’m gonna shower. I feel all sticky from the humidity.”

Zilla smirked, watching her as she grabbed clothes from her dresser. “Need some help?”

Dahlia shot him a playful glare. “You’re such a menace.”

He laughed as she disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the water starting up a moment later. The second she was out of sight, Zilla pulled out his phone, unlocking it to finally answer Jacob’s text.

Zilla: What’s up?

He leaned back against the bed, staring at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear. He already had a feeling what this was about.

Jacob: Don’t play dumb, Uce. You know what’s up.

Zilla sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He knew this was coming the moment Jacob showed up at the waterfall park.

Zilla: If this is about Dahlia, I don’t wanna hear it.

Jacob: Nah, it’s about you. You’re making a mistake.

Zilla: A mistake by being with the girl I love?

Jacob: A mistake by locking yourself down over a girl you barely know. A girl you’re out here playing house with while you were just creeping out of Cora’s room a few days ago.

Zilla clenched his jaw, his grip on the phone tightening. He stared at the message, his heart pounding as he read it over again. He thought Jacob wasn’t gonna say anything. He thought he let it go.

Zilla: That was a mistake. It meant nothing. I didn’t even fuck her…

Jacob: But she doesn’t know, does she?

Zilla exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of those words. No, Dahlia didn’t know. And she never would, because it wasn’t worth ruining what they had over a dumb decision.

Zilla: I’m not about to mess things up with Dahlia. She’s the best thing to happen to me.

Jacob: Then why are you lying to her?

Zilla hesitated. He knew Jacob wasn’t saying this to be an asshole—he was looking out for him. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Zilla: Because I already messed up once. And I’m not gonna lose her over something that don’t mean shit.

Jacob didn’t reply right away, and Zilla could picture him shaking his head in disappointment. A part of him hated that, but another part didn’t care. He made his decision.

Jacob: You better pray she never finds out.

Zilla stared at the message, his stomach twisting.

Zilla: She won’t.

Before Jacob could say anything else, the bathroom door opened, and Dahlia stepped out, her damp hair falling around her shoulders. She smiled at him, completely unaware of the storm inside his head.

Zilla locked his phone and smiled back. “Feel better, baby?”

She nodded, climbing into bed beside him. “Much better.”

Zilla wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. No matter what Jacob said, he wasn’t gonna let anything ruin what he had with her. He wouldn’t let his past mistakes take this away from him.

Even if it meant keeping secrets.

—

The next day, Zilla and Dahlia had driven all over the greater Houston area, exploring different neighborhoods. They checked out townhomes and apartments in Spring, Pasadena, Kingwood, and even Katy, but nothing truly felt right. At first, Dahlia had focused on affordable options, but Zilla had other plans.

It wasn’t until they pulled into Sugar Land that Zilla finally found what he was looking for—a two-story, all-brick house that instantly caught his attention. Dahlia stared at it in awe, her hands tightening on her seatbelt as she took in the massive home.

“Isayah… this is out of my price range,” she whispered, still processing the sight of it.

Zilla shifted the Camaro into park and glanced at her. “That’s because you’re not paying for it—I am,” he said, as if it were that simple. “Camaro’s paid off, and I don’t even spend my money like that. I ain’t hurting for it, so why not?”

Dahlia hesitated. “But—”

“But nothing, baby. Just trust me, alright?” He leaned over and kissed her temple before getting out of the car.

Waiting for them outside was a realtor, dressed sharply in a blazer and slacks, her polished smile welcoming them as they approached.

“Mr. Fatu, how are you?” she greeted warmly before her gaze flickered to Dahlia. “I assume this is your wife?”

Dahlia’s face heated instantly. She opened her mouth to correct her, but Zilla beat her to it.

“Future wife, actually,” he said smoothly, slipping an arm around Dahlia’s waist. “Shall we go inside?”

The realtor nodded. “Of course, follow me.”

As they stepped into the house, the woman began her tour, leading them through the spacious interior.

“Large living area with picture windows and a cozy fireplace,” she started, gesturing toward the open-concept space. “The island kitchen features stainless steel appliances, a pro-style cooktop, a wine fridge, and an attached breakfast area with a built-in desk.”

Dahlia’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the kitchen. “Oh my god, Isayah…”

The realtor continued, oblivious to Dahlia’s reaction. “The primary bedroom is expansive, complete with a sitting area and ensuite featuring a jetted tub, a separate shower, two vanities, and a large walk-in closet.”

Zilla gave Dahlia a knowing look. “Sounds perfect, huh?”

She shook her head, overwhelmed. “It sounds expensive.”

He just grinned. “You mean baller..”

The realtor led them upstairs, pointing out the spacious secondary bedrooms and a massive game room. “There’s also a finished flex space that can serve as a playroom, media room, office, or even a sixth bedroom,” she explained.

But it wasn’t until they stepped into the backyard that Dahlia truly fell in love.

“Lovely backyard with a sparkling pool, an outdoor kitchen and dining area with a pergola, plus plenty of green space,” the realtor detailed. “There’s also a two-car garage and a separate man cave or workspace addition off the garage.”

Dahlia turned to Zilla, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

He slid his hands into his pockets, nodding. “Dead serious.”

She glanced around again, her heart racing. “Isayah… we’re really doing this?”

Zilla reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah, baby,” he murmured, squeezing gently. “We’re really doing this.”

The realtor offered them a pleasant smile as they stood in the backyard, the warm Texas breeze carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass. “Since you’re here today, I should mention that we’re running a look-and-lease special,” she said, her voice laced with professionalism. “So far, all the other families have declined it, but I figured I’d let you both know in case you’re interested.”

Zilla tilted his head slightly. “What’s the deal?”

The realtor clasped her hands together. “If you submit your applications today and get approved by Monday, your first month’s rent will be waived. Additionally, if you opt for a 24-month lease, you’ll receive a $250 gift card to a store of your choosing and the option to convert to a rent-to-own agreement.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Zilla. “That’s actually… a really good deal,” she admitted.

Zilla rubbed his chin thoughtfully, taking in the house once more. He had already made up his mind about securing a home for them, but the added incentives only made the decision easier.

“Alright,” he said finally, nodding. “Send over the applications. We’ll get them done tonight.”

The realtor’s smile widened. “Fantastic. I’ll email them to you as soon as we’re done here. If you have any questions, just reach out.”

Dahlia still looked slightly dazed, like she couldn’t believe what was happening. As they walked back toward the Camaro, she tugged on Zilla’s hand, making him slow down. “Are you sure about this?” she asked softly. “This is a huge step.”

Zilla stopped, turning to face her. “D, I told you—I’m all in,” he said firmly. “This ain’t just about me anymore. It’s about you. About the babies. About building something real.”

She bit her lip, searching his face for any hesitation. But all she saw was certainty. Love. Commitment. Devotion.

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Zilla grinned and kissed her forehead. “That’s my girl... alright, now how about some food? Since I’ve never lived in Sugar Land, let’s go explore.”

Dahlia placed a hand on her stomach and hummed in thought before her eyes lit up. “Actually… the babies are craving a French delicacy!”

Zilla let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. “French food? Girl, where the hell we gonna find French food around here?”

Dahlia smirked, already prepared for that reaction. “I went to lunch with Dr. Patel and Sabrina a while back. There’s a place called La Madeleine. It’s not super fancy, but they have amazing pastries and French dishes.”

Zilla arched an eyebrow. “So you telling me these babies already got expensive-ass taste?”

Dahlia giggled. “Blame your genes, big spender.”

Zilla chuckled, unlocking the Camaro. “Alright, let’s go get you and my little money drainers some fancy-ass food.”

They hopped in the car, Dahlia excitedly looking up the directions while Zilla pulled out of the driveway, already envisioning their future in Sugar Land.

After dinner, they decided to head home and as they pulled into the parking lot of Sabrina’s apartment complex, Zilla held onto Dahlia’s hand, his thumb lazily tracing circles against her skin. His voice was lower, more thoughtful than before.

“I think God put you in my life for a reason,” he repeated, glancing at her before shifting the car into park.

Dahlia tilted her head, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Oh yeah? And what reason is that?”

Zilla smirked, but there was something deeper in his expression, something unspoken. “I don’t know yet… but I feel it. Like, before you, I was just moving through life, not thinking about shit. Now, I got plans. A future. Something to build, not just for me, but for us.”

Dahlia’s heart clenched. The way he looked at her, like she was his whole world, made her chest ache in the best way possible. She squeezed his hand, smiling softly. “Isayah… you’ve always had a future. You didn’t need me for that.”

“Nah,” Zilla said, shaking his head. “I needed you to see it.”

Dahlia bit her lip, warmth flooding through her. Before she could respond, Zilla leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. She melted into him for a moment before pulling back, her breath slightly uneven.

“Let’s get inside,” she whispered.

Zilla huffed dramatically. “So that’s a no to—”

Dahlia laughed, smacking his arm playfully before stepping out of the car. “Come on, lover boy. Time to cuddle and sleep.”

Zilla groaned but followed her, wrapping an arm around her waist as they made their way up to the apartment. As much as he wanted more, just having Dahlia by his side was enough. For now.

Sabrina watched as Dahlia walked into the apartment with Zilla by her side, her eyes instantly narrowing. She was sitting on the couch, munching on a Hershey’s cookies and cream bar, but the sight of the couple caught her attention more than the snack. Dahlia smiled at Zilla and noticed the momentary tension in Sabrina’s gaze.

“Dahlia,” Sabrina called out, her voice light but with a hint of concern. “Where you been?”

Dahlia glanced at Zilla before answering, still smiling with a sense of excitement. “Well, we found a house. It’s so beautiful, Brina!”

Sabrina’s expression softened for a second, but then she stood up abruptly, her phone in her hand. “Can I talk to you for a sec? In private?”

Dahlia, unsure of the sudden seriousness, nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”

As Sabrina led her down the hallway to the room, Zilla barely glanced up, too engrossed in pulling out his phone to care about the shift in tone. He made his way to Dahlia’s room and sat down on her bed, his thumb scrolling through his messages while the muffled sounds of conversation between the two women floated down the hallway.

Dahlia followed Sabrina into the room, and before she could ask what was going on, Sabrina spoke, her voice more tense than usual. “Is this the bitch Zilla admitted to dancing with?”

Dahlia’s brow furrowed, her confusion growing. “What? Who?”

Sabrina handed her the phone, and Dahlia looked down at the screen. The profile picture of Cora Jade filled the display, and a sudden sense of unease crawled up her spine.

“This girl,” Sabrina added, her voice sharp. “Is this the one he danced with, Dahlia?”

Dahlia squinted at the screen, her stomach twisting. “Yeah, but what’s that matter? It’s just a dance. I’m not worried about it.”

Sabrina crossed her arms, a pointed look on her face. “Look at what she commented on Zilla’s IG post about the babies.”

Dahlia scrolled down on the post, her pulse quickening as she saw the comment:

@wwenxtcorajade: 😏

Dahlia’s heart dropped into her stomach as she stared at the comment. Her mind started racing. It wasn’t just any comment—it felt loaded.

She handed the phone back to Sabrina, trying to shake off the discomfort she felt. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

Sabrina didn’t look reassured, her expression stern as she looked at Dahlia. “I don’t know, but you should be careful. Actions speak louder than words.”

Dahlia stared at the phone, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “Brina, I don’t think he’d ever do anything like that… He’s with me, and we’re… we’re good, okay?”

Sabrina sighed, sitting on the bed and looking at Dahlia intently. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? I’m your friend, and I’m looking out for you.”

Dahlia smiled faintly, appreciating the concern but feeling a mix of confusion and frustration inside. She wanted to believe Zilla was genuine, but the doubt was starting to creep in.

“I know, and I appreciate you, Brina.” Dahlia sat down next to her, her eyes not leaving the phone. “But I trust him. I really do.”

Sabrina didn’t say anything, but her gaze softened. “Just be careful, Dahlia. That’s all I’m saying.”

Dahlia nodded slowly, trying to push the thoughts out of her head as she tried to shake the weight of what she’d seen. She didn’t want to doubt Zilla, but as she walked back to her room, her heart felt a little heavier than before.

Dahlia opened the door to her room and found Zilla lounging on the bed, laughing to himself as he scrolled through TikTok. His eyes lit up as he caught something funny, his deep chuckle filling the air. Dahlia couldn’t help but smile, even though her mind was clouded with uncertainty.

“Hey, baby,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

Zilla looked up, still laughing. “Babe, you have to see this!” He held out his phone, showing her a video of a dog knocking over its owner. Dahlia forced a small smile as she sat down beside him, trying to keep her focus on the lighthearted moment, but the nagging feeling in her chest wouldn’t let her fully relax.

“Watch this next one,” Zilla said, chuckling again. Dahlia watched the video, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the lingering unease about the comment from Cora.

Finally, she took a deep breath. “I have to ask you something.”

Zilla tilted his head, sensing the change in her tone. He paused his scrolling and turned to face her, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Go ahead, babe,” he said, his voice soft but serious.

Dahlia hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts before asking the question that had been weighing on her. “Are you… still in touch with Cora?”

Zilla’s face stiffened instantly, his eyes narrowing just slightly. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. He didn’t answer immediately, and Dahlia felt her heart skip a beat.

“No,” Zilla said, his voice steady but with a trace of defensiveness. “Why would you say that?”

Dahlia swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the tension rising between them. “Well, because she commented on your post,” she said.

Zilla’s expression shifted, a flash of disbelief crossing his face. “Nah, babe, for real. I don’t even talk to her like that.” He leaned forward, looking at Dahlia with sincerity in his eyes. “If it helps you, I’ll block her right now.”

Before Dahlia could respond, Zilla didn’t wait. He quickly swiped through his phone, finding Cora’s profile, and without another word, he blocked her.

Dahlia stared at him, surprised by how quickly he acted. Her heart softened a little, but doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice still shaky. “I guess I just needed to know.”

Zilla set the phone down and reached out to gently touch her hand. “I get it, babe. I really do. I’m not about that life anymore. You’re the one I want.” He gave her a reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension between them.

Dahlia looked at him, her heart torn between relief and lingering doubt. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t ignore the doubts that had been building inside her. “I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m second choice,” she said, her voice showing self esteem that couldn’t help but creep in.

Zilla squeezed her hand, his gaze softening. “You’re not second to anyone, Dahlia. You’re everything to me. I’m done with all that other stuff. It’s just you and me, okay?”

Dahlia nodded slowly, her heart still conflicted but her trust in him beginning to rebuild. She wanted to believe him, needed to believe him. But the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy.

“Okay,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder as they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air, but for now, the space between them felt a little more secure.

After their talk, and once they both showered and settled into bed, the room fell into an uneasy silence. Dahlia was already asleep, her breathing slow and steady, completely at peace. Zilla, on the other hand, found himself wide awake, tossing and turning under the sheets. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced—thoughts of the conversation with Dahlia, the unresolved feelings, and the lingering sense of guilt that gnawed at him.

He groaned in frustration, tossing over onto his side, trying to find a comfortable position. But no matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come. His body felt restless, and the thoughts continued to spiral in his mind.

He finally threw the covers off, getting up from the bed. He stood there for a moment, watching Dahlia sleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest somehow calming, yet only amplifying his own internal chaos. Zilla ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the suffocating feeling.

Walking toward the bathroom, he flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection was tired—eyes bloodshot, a stubble growing on his jawline. He looked worn down, drained. His body, as if reacting to his emotional unrest, seemed to ache for something more—something he used to turn to when everything else felt out of control.

The medicine cabinet door creaked as he opened it, his fingers grazing the edges until they landed on the bottle of Advil PM. He hesitated for a second, but then the temptation to dull the noise in his mind was too great. He quickly took two pills, dry swallowing them with a sigh. The cold medicine burned slightly as it went down, but it didn’t matter. He was just looking for a way to escape the constant barrage of thoughts.

Zilla stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection now staring back at him with a mixture of frustration and resignation. His body was craving the other drug—cocaine, the one that numbed everything, the one that allowed him to feel nothing at all.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to steady himself. “Get it together, Isayah,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to focus. He couldn’t keep running from his demons, but he also couldn’t let them take over.

He finally turned off the light and walked back to the room. The pills were starting to take effect, and his limbs felt heavier, like the weight of the world was finally starting to fade just a little. Zilla crawled back into bed, careful not to disturb Dahlia. He looked at her, her face soft and peaceful, and for a moment, he allowed himself to feel something other than the chaos swirling in his mind—he felt gratitude, a flicker of devotion that maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this darkness.

But as he closed his eyes and let the sleepiness begin to pull him under, a part of him still wondered how long he could keep feeling everything—the pressure of his past, the mistakes, the drug cravings, the unwelcome actions with Cora—and still hold onto the fragile peace he was trying to build with Dahlia.

#zilla fatu fanfiction #zilla x oc #zilla fatu smut #zilla fatu #fanfiction #fanfic #wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #yeet #wwe the bloodline #wwe theories #wwe fanfiction

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rebtrovert-girl · 10 months ago

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Me, watching Lovely Runner eps 3 until minute 61....

#And then everything went sour #Honestly i'm obsessed with sunjae flying kisses #The amount of times i'm replaying this scene is unhealthy #I cant be help #He is so adorable #Give him and the love of his life the happy ending they deserved #Lovely runner #byeon woo seok #kim hye yoon #ryu sun jae #Im sol #by rebtrovert-girl

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wildsaltair · 2 months ago

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just call me pain and sorrow because I belong to Maximus no matter what he does

#I’M SORRY i hate myself for this #but it came to me in a vision #WHY does he have to suffer so #what did he ever do #was he too honorable??#too loyal to his family?? his men? his country and emperor???#was he too kind and compassionate? too brave and noble???#was he just too perfect to exist without trouble???#is it the biblical Job syndrome???#HE DIDN’T DESERVE IT #he deserved to be happy in his beloved home with his precious wife and son #he deserved to live to be old and gray #to have dozens of grandchildren and a legacy that would live on for years #i will write a thousand fics about it until it becomes reality #the way everything i write is me searching for a way to give him a happy ending #featuring myself as his love #OH to be loved as maximus loves #oh to be treasured and cherished and protected and loved by him #i would spend every breath of my life loving him #so gladly #I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT HIM #gladiator #text posts #maximus #maximus decimus meridius #gladiator 2000 #russell crowe

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sainz100 · 4 months ago

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2024 Singapore GP | x

#hi everyone I'm sorry I vanished for a few days #this weekend has been hard here with irl family things and in my heart in the world of F1 #I feel so so so so much for Daniel and I keep riding a roller coaster of anger that RBR let this happen and sorrow if this is it #then I swing back to hope #not just in 2025 (which I still believe in!!)#but that he can find joy and fufillment and love somewhere better #he deserves so much better than the callously cruel weekend from a sport he's given so much of his life to #I'll be a Daniel fan no matter where he goes next #but my trust in RBR is irrevocably shattered as it is for many (not that I had much to begin with!)#but he was thrown to the wolves and I'm just so angry and heartbroken this happened #but then the possible last lap of his potential last race given to Max #thank you Daniel #and I'm hopeful til the end #I hope he gets what he wants but he deserves so much love #and seeing the love from fans and the people in his life who DO care #I'm a newer fan but I have become so fond for Daniel so much and the anticipation is killing me #let him and fans have peace (even if the goal is Checo retiring after the Mexico GP then at least give some closure for the month between)#just a hard weekend #and the FIA absurdity with Max too ugh #and Carlos' crash in quali ahhh just an awful weekend #with that and an overwhelming family weekend I just couldn't bring myself to post anything #but thank you everyone for this space #I need to catch up but I have seen so many folks echo how I feel #it is upsetting and needless and uncerimonious and cruel #I'll be hopeful forever there is a chance #but Daniel deserves to be happy and RBR proved how heartless of a place they can be #I'll savor the silver linings of Max and Daniel's bond and those on the team who lifted him up #I'll be away again for a work event today but I looked around insta a bit last night #I'll post and tag for the GP if anyone wants to not see it!! still hurts but it'll all be okay in time I know it ❤️#autumn posts

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ayushipop · 4 months ago

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i got to be the bearer of the terrible news to my best friend like 10 minutes after the announcement dropped

#seunghan #in all seriousness he is completely innocent and didnt deserve a single thing thay came out of this nightmare situation #destroying a young mans career over literally nothing literally having a NORMAL FUCKING LIFE #especially worse since we were driving around blasting riize the DAY before bc we were so happy abt him returning #peace and love to hong seunghan #lord take all of his pain quadruple it and give it to sm entertainment #fuck ot6 losers to the ends of the earth

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10moonymhrivertam · 9 days ago

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Also while I'm soapboxing I shipped River/Doctor until The Husbands of River Song and people like to make edits of all that to hell and back but. Isn't that so lonely? This person matched you and compelled you and knew you and died and refused to give you up. And you could still give her up, for her own sake. It isn't fixed. But the next time she calls for you it's in a language you only read at home. You didn't give her up and you won't give her up. She knows things you don't know, and you assume it pales in comparison to the thing she doesn't know. You come when she calls. She knows your home better than most who have a key. You call yourself to her and she knows things you don't know again, but whatever it is, your other friends know. And you have to bear that and trust them as your memory is tampered with, time and again. And she'll do things for you that you both know you don't want to. So when you're in need, you dare to call for her, for the first time - the only time? And she doesn't. Answer. ...She has a good reason. You learn that even if she didn't know and match and compel you, you would obligate yourself to her on the strength of her connections to your friends alone. Any remaining hope you might someday find the strength to give her up - to keep her off of that planet - evaporates, now that she's your responsibility as well as your mystery. You learn, albeit briefly, what her eyes look like young. You realize that for her, you started the catchphrase that both endears and annoys you. You find out how she knew your name. You learn another of the things she's keeping from you - the one your friends were permitted to know. You prepare. You see her in a suit again, appreciate the parallels, but somehow you forgot - she won't let you go. Everything breaks. You promise never to let her go. Everything moves on. She moves on. She investigates the things she knows you investigate. She investigates the angels. She tells you about her posting. Her introduction rings in your ears. The book is read from. The loop is closing either way - this fixation could take her away before the Library does, and what does all this look like if you lose that? You don't have to find out. You learn you never had to admit to your friends that you knew how she died. It's the only nugget of comfort you have besides telling the story. And she haunts you, not in the way she always has, but like a ghost. You try not to entertain the argument that that's what she's been the whole time. You gave her all twelve faces, even the shameful one. It was the least you could do. So you never even think to hope, when a new friend grants you a new lease on life. And she doesn't recognize you, when she sees you, which is a little upsetting, but she did always have a cheat sheet before. And then she's stalling, but earnest. Lancing a wound to a captive audience.

She thinks you don't love her back.

A lifetime wasn't enough. How will twenty-four years shadowed by impending grief convince her?

#colors and formatting are mostly just to keep adhd eyes from being too slippy #since i didn't want to paragraph break before my point #i guess this is a #fic #but it wasn't really supposed to be??#doctor who #river/doctor #doctor/river #forreal tho river at the VERY LEAST he's known you your whole life #you know how freely and deeply he gives out platonic love #why would you not at least have confidence in his familial love?#why do you have to make him a god when in this thing especially #he's a person. even when he wishes he wasn't #also i feel like moffat lost the distinction between closed loops and fixed points #rtd made more a point of separating those #and i liked the ship more before her literal whole life revolved around him. Sure she can marry him and die for him.#i would say 'at least she wasn't born for him' but hahaahaahaahah thanks church of silence #so they have the nerve to make her e n t i r e life revolve around him. not even just the grown up parts.#and she doesn't even get the comfort of knowing he loves her back?#that moffat has the nerve to even imply he in fact doesn't?#also moffat go to hell for the whole 'haha she married him but he didn't marry her' thing #quit tormenting her #make up some guy to torment and leave river alone #anyway so yeah i guess i do ship it but they deserve more than a happy ending #they deserve for that to never have been part of their story #it's tragic enough with her damn death hanging over it the entire time #it doesn't need her doubt that's just cruel

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gender-euphowrya · 1 year ago

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*points to chris pratt* YOU

#YOU DID THIS #;_;#it's joke i know that's not the reason but #;____;#charles martinet is retiring i wanna vomit #like. of course good for him he's getting old and he more than deserves the rest but #fuck if it isn't horribly sad for this journey to come to an end #he's been the voice of my childhood's best moments. sib im cry #i give the next voice actor(s) all my support and wish them the best of luck it's gonna be hard to live up to the legend #i hope charles can have a good retirement with his loved ones and keeps being happy #i'm just. you know i'm just a bit mad that his last appearance in a nintendo product #was as a cameo in the movie about the characters he brought to life for decades. and not as those characters.#just feels like a fucking flop of an end instead of what could and should have been a grand goodbye

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crowsofdarkness · 22 hours ago

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Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The town square of Wakanda was busy with bodies getting ready for the soon arrival and as Bucky and I stood hand in hand, I could help the way my heart jumped with nerves. I was nervous for the fight and nervous to see Steve again after so long.

My hair blew with the wind as the jet made its final descent, coming to a halt in front of us. As the ramp opened, I saw my old friends ascend down. They couldn’t see us and I took it as an opportunity to sneak away from them and Bucky, the nerves becoming too much to handle. Bucky was talking with Steve so he hadn’t noticed me walk away.

Everything was happening too fast and I didn’t have the chance to stop to think about what the outcome would be.

Maybe Bucky and I could leave, let them fight this on their own. We could go back to our normal lives, something that we both deserved. This wasn’t our fight, we didn’t have to risk our lives for this.

However, I knew that when it was our fight years ago, all of these people were there to help us, no questions asked.

“Where’s Y/N?” A voice asked.

“She was right here,” Bucky said.

Coming into view, I smiled over towards my friends while giving Sam and Nat a long overdue hug. I nodded towards Wanda who was walking inside with a hurt Vision.

“How’re you doing?” Nat asked.

I nodded. “Not bad, for the end of the world.”

“What’s up Marshmallow?”

Laughing at the nickname coming from Sam, I lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You had to come along?”

“Someone has to watch his back,” Sam mentioned towards Steve.

He was already watching me with intent eyes as I walked over to him, closing the distance between us.

“I see you took my advice,” I pointed towards the beard and long hair.

Steve shrugged while wrapping his arms around me in a longing hug. I had missed the way that they felt, protecting me from anything bad.

“How are you, really?” Steve questioned, lifting my chin to look into my eyes.

“We’re fine, Steve,” I spoke quietly. “Bucky is good. He’s his old self.”

Steve nodded before looking between Bucky and I. “Mind if I steal her for a bit? Catch her up to speed?”

Bucky hesitated, only I saw it, before nodding. “Sure.”

I closed the large distance between us with a loving kiss. “Don’t worry.”

With his new fingers on my lower back, he pressed his lips against mine once again, this time longer and deeper.

“I love you,” he muttered against them.

“I love you too.”

“You look like hell,” I noticed Sam as we all stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab.

A very familiar place to me.

“Well the motels weren’t exactly five stars,” Sam admitted with a small laugh.

I then nodded towards Bruce and Nat, who themselves were having a private conversation.

“Talk about awkwardness, huh?”

Sam laughed again. “You have no idea.”

“Y/N.”

Excusing myself from Sam, I walked over towards Steve, who was standing in front of a large window, looking down towards the fields of Wakanda.

“Does everything make sense?” He asked.

“Yeah, as crazy as it sounds.” I said

“And you’re ready for it?” He asked again, motioning towards my hands. “Bucky mentioned that you haven’t used it for awhile.”

I grasped my hands together with a sigh. “I wanted something normal for us. To be honest, I don’t even know if it still works. I haven’t found a reason to get mad lately.”

“With what’s coming, I think it would be best to get mad,” Steve suggested.

Silence fell between us and I was going to walk away from him but his hand in mind stopped me.

“Can you promise me something?”

I nodded.

“Promise that no matter what comes, that you take care of yourself first. Don’t worry about Buck or I. I can’t deal if something would happen to you,” Steve admitted while gently cupping my cheek.

Licking my dry lips at the warmth of his glove, I nodded again.

“Only if you do something for me,” I spoke.

“Anything,” he breathed.

“If something does happen to me, make sure he moves on. I don’t want him to dwell on it. He deserves to be happy,” I said with a shaky breath.

Steve hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting out a large breath.

“But it’s not going to come to that, right?”

Tearing myself away from Steve’s sad gaze, I looked towards Natasha and nodded.

“Can she do it?” I asked, changing the subject and walking away from Steve.

The questionable outcome weighed heavy on my mind but there was always one thing that was clear. If something were to happen to me, whatever it was, I needed to make sure that Bucky moved on. He couldn’t dwell on me or what happened. It was true what I told Steve; Bucky deserved to be happy, even if I had passed.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from above us, shaking the castle. I looked around everyone in the room before my eyes landed finally on Steve, a knowing look on his face.

“They’re here,” I said.

“Get this man a shield!” T’challa pointed towards Steve before shouting more directions to others.

“Bucky,” I muttered while leaving the room and sprinting outside the castle.

Bucky and Sam were standing in the middle of the town center, staring up towards the sky.

Gunshots rain down on us but thankfully they couldn’t break the barrier that was protecting us.

“God, I love this place,” Bucky admitted.

“You guys alright?” I questioned while standing in between them.

Sam nodded. “How’re they doing up there?”

“It’s going to take awhile for Shuri to recreate a stone,” I admitted.

We watched in slight horror when ships came from the sky, landing right outside the protective dome.

“Cap, we’ve got a situation out here.” I said into my com.

The grass flattened beneath my boots as we stood on the open field, preparing ourselves for the fight.

“Doll?”

I looked over to Bucky. “Hm?”

Without saying a word, handed me one of his guns, silently knowing that I wasn’t quite ready to use my powers.

“Be careful,” he said.

“You too,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together.

My attention was averted from Bucky as I shook my fingers, trying to bring the spark to life, but groaned in defeat.

I never would have thought that when I decided to not use them any more that it would backfire. Now would be the perfect time to be able to use them.

“Did they surrender?” I asked Steve as he returned to his spot next to me.

T’challa, Nat, and him walked down to the edge of the barrier, trying to talk to the alien species.

“Not exactly,” he sighed.

Suddenly, thousands of aliens came from the ships, running towards the barrier that was protecting us, killing themselves in the process.

“They’re killing themselves,” I muttered.

The few that made it through, alive, charged towards us and without a second thought, all of us raised our weapons to prepare for war.

Bucky and I shot bullets towards the aliens that made it close to us. I knew, deep down, that no matter how many bullets we had or knives I used, it wouldn’t be enough.

“You know, Y/N, now would be a perfect time to toast these fuckers,” Sam’s voice came through the com in my ear.

“You don’t think I’ve tried!” I yelled. “It’s not working!”

A simple snap of the fingers and nothing.

“What’s stopping them from trying to enter behind us?” I asked Steve, when I noticed the aliens running around the barrier.

“We need to open the barrier,” T’challa stated.

Looking between Steve and Bucky, two men who I would protect with my heart and knowing they would do the same for me.

“We’re with each other till the end, right?” I asked them both.

“Always,” Steve spoke.

“Forever, doll.” Bucky gave a quick kiss to the side of my head.

With a loud war cry, our army charged forward as T’challa gave the order to open the barrier. Thousands of aliens sprinting towards us.

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getblammed · 23 days ago

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need to write pico and bf’s relationship but like. going wrong

#〚 ⊠ ooc . 〛#i cant lie mhfkah’s au on twitter is inspiring this new train of thought so hard i love how they write pico and bf so so much #like writing them happy together is great #and pico deserves the break from his chaotic and stressful life that bf gives him #but also theyre canonically exes unfortunately :[#not to say i think pico is to blame for their relationship ending #‘mentally unwell bf snaps and causes breakup through violence or w/e’ is a harmful trope #in my eyes its a multitude of factors and issues within their relationship #due to inexperience and immaturity and issues on both their ends #smoking it all away instead of talking things through

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rowarn · 7 months ago

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IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable.

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator.

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money.

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared.

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing.

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava.

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest.

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you.

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit.

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time.

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed.

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth.

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason.

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck.

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend.

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought.

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone.

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit.

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible.

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment.

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound.

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open.

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time.

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it.

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger.

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality.

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military.

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles.

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy.

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true.

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his.

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you.

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice.

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more.

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you.

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight.

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before.

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss.

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs.

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it.

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest.

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words.

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon.

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time.

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this.

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more.

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration.

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment.

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one.

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe.

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically.

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same.

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating.

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too.

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected.

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser.

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering.

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room.

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up.

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel.

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident.

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down.

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view.

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs.

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force.

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open.

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body.

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit.

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud.

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth.

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples.

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends.

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole.

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you.

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time.

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you.

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling.

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest.

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm.

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you.

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think.

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not.

And fuck, do you love it.

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now.

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers.

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm.

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt.

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever.

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke.

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short.

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet,

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately.

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against.

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock.

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you.

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately.

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again.

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him.

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest.

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself.

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right.

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up.

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure.

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly.

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs.

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face.

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley.

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you.

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved.

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock.

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm.

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong.

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips.

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession.

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms.

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he.

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

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