#I would just like to say: I agree with every word

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

Thanks for debating me while calling me a debate pervert. The hypocrisy definitely isn't annoying.

Like fuck, call it whatever you want to, but "discuss" is also what the other person is doing? Discussing how OP's position is disingenuous?

Like don't get me wrong I agree with OP 100% I'm just sick of you fucking retards who will bitch and moan at the audacity of people who dare respond to you. At all.

I'm not saying any of this because I NEED this to be a debate or for there to be A debate, I'm saying this because you halfwits with the IQ equivalent of a burned potato will bulldoze right into a debate - excuse me, "discussion" since apparently the word "debate" harms you so - and then whine and bitch and complain and sob and cry about how you don't want a discussion.

If I could I would reach up your asshole and pull out your 尻子玉 and use it to make a cock ring purely so every time whoever wears it pisses they piss onto the very essence of your soul.

[imujings]

[ot13] 13 ways to say three little words

synopsis. | the words that seventeen use to say i love you.

♯ pairing(s). | seventeen x gn!reader (all separate) ♯ genre(s). | fluff, established relationships ♯ wc. | 1.5k ♯ warnings. | cursing (k.sy), eating habits (j.ww), insecure thoughts (l.jh), crying (x.mh), food mentions (k.mg, c.hs)

jay’s musings. | 🎧 my heart it beats for you - grent perez

001 — 🍒. Before you can even unfasten your seat belt, Seungcheol's door clicks shut and he's on your side of the car, his smile warming you up through the window. You immediately make a noise of protest, seeing the numerous grocery bags lining his arms. He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head as he opens the door for you. "Let me handle it." He knows you’re able to do it yourself, but why should you when he’s there, ready to help in less than a moment’s notice? (That, and he takes pride in the way your eyes savor his biceps.) You can pout all you want, sure, yet the man will just kiss your forehead, telling you that you can help him by unlocking the front door and making yourself comfortable inside.

002 — 🪽. “Come over here, please,” isn't as uncommon of a phase as you think it would be from Jeonghan. He's not one to beg—and would never admit to doing so in front of someone other than you—but there’s something about the way you bundle into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but his sweater, that makes his heart squeeze. His stomach does a cartwheel at your sleepy smile and the words tumble out of his mouth in a soft, lethally desirous whine. When you glance over at his request, the man’s lips are pursed, displeased at the fact that you aren’t currently curled into his side. Unfortunately for you, he won’t say anything more until you giggle and relent to his wishes, falling into his arms as he tells you just how much he’s missed you.

003 — 🦌. Joshua’s beaming smile greets you in your kitchen, his shining eyes drinking in the tiredness of your own. You must’ve woken up from a nap. “I was just thinking about you,” the man says while turning away from the stove with a mug in hand. It’s your favorite hot drink, still steaming with heat. You graciously thank him and soak in the warmth of the beverage. The patter of rain outside does nothing to help you wake up for productivity, and you know for a fact this won’t contribute anything to it, either. Even more so when he’s already guiding you to your cozy living room, his arm circling around your waist and asking what show you want to put on.

004 — 🐈. As the two of you hop into the taxi, hand in hand, Jun’s quiet question reaches your ears. “Sit next to me?” You still don’t really understand why he asks every single time, especially when it’s only you two traveling. But of course, you agree, and he sacrifices the window seat to sit in the middle, head already falling to your shoulder with a sleepy drawl. Your cheek rests against the man’s hairline as you gaze out the window. You’ll wake him up when you reach your destination, huffing that that’s the last time you’ll let him pull a dirty trick like that, but not before you press a soft kiss to his temple and intertwine your fingers with his.

005 — 🐯. When Soonyoung asks you if you had recently switched the brand of shampoo and conditioner you use, you have half the mind to tell him straight up how weird it is that he’s smelling your hair. He barks out a laugh at your comment, saying that it’s not his fault you have a certain aura, scent, and vibe to you that he would notice even the slightest amount of change. His laugh quickly fades when you ask just what the hell he could possibly mean. Face slowly warming at the incredulous way he stares at you, as if you had asked why the sky was blue, the man’s next words make you melt. “What are you talking about? I notice you all the time.”

006 — 🦊. It’s almost two in the afternoon when a takeout bag is placed down on the table next to you, the smell wafting from it suspiciously similar to your favorite food. “Have you eaten today?” Wonwoo’s question has you flinching, eyes blinking up and away from your computer for the first time in what feels like hours. His own eyes soften at your demeanor, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in before beginning to take the food and utensils out. The man doesn't say anything more about the topic, instead opting to give you little updates about his day. As you two eat together, he lets his thigh press against yours, and you indulge yourself—just this once. (Until he, like always, shows up again.)

007 — 🍚. The poem is short and sweet. You had wracked your brain all night trying to find the perfect words to encapsulate how you feel, but as you stand before Jihoon now, your nerves are on fire. You watch as his eyes take in the curves of your handwriting, silent. He probably thought these simple words were unoriginal. Boring. Cheesy. Meaningless. You’re snapped out of your self-deprecating thoughts when the man suddenly coughs loudly, hiding his reddening face beneath his hands. His tone is meek. “Ah, you’re really something, aren’t you?” But he’s grinning, and then his lips crash into yours with a desperation you’ve never felt from him until now.

008 — 🐸. Your vision is blurry, and you aren’t really sure where you are until Minghao’s soft, reassuring voice and soothing hand at your back are processed by your brain. “I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs. You hiccup and cling to him, your sobs slowly subsiding. It’s a little hard to breathe for a while, but with his help you’re able to lean back against your cushioned couch without feeling like the world is crumbling around you. When the man goes to make you a cup of tea you beg him to stay with you, but he merely shakes his head, wiping away the tears on your streak-stained cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay strong now. I believe in you.”

009 — 🐶. Rows of stocked shelves with various yummy foods do nothing to distract you from your goal. You tug on Mingyu’s sleeve and ask him if you two could have a certain food you’ve been craving lately for dinner. An apology is ready to spill right after, knowing he probably already had prior plans for what to cook, but he doesn’t even hesitate before turning into a different aisle where he knows the ingredients lie. You let out a little cheer that confuses and amuses the man all at once. Why are you even entertaining the idea of him saying no? It’s your world, and he’s just living in it. “Of course,” he hums when you thank him profusely. “Whatever you want.”

010 — ⚔️. In the dead of winter, Seoul’s city air is, quite frankly, freezing. The scarf covering your face, along with your mittens and thick winter coat, all feel like thin notebook paper against the biting winter wind. Seokmin, on the other hand, is snugly encased around your arm and giggling all the while during your walk. “You’re so warm!” he laughs, the man’s gloved hands digging into your clothes like you’ll float away if he isn’t careful. He doesn’t even have a hood on, and you scold him for this, to which he just hugs you tighter. A particularly harsh gust of wind threatens to topple you two over and he presses his face to yours, skin surprisingly toasty. “No, I’m okay, really. I mean, how can I be cold when I’m with you like this?”

011 — 🍊. Seungkwan fiddles with the photograph in his hands. “We knew each other too late.” His gaze is almost mournful, and it tears at your heart, resting your head on the man’s shoulder as you murmur that fate has its reasons. He huffs as he slides the photo—one of you and him from an outing, smiling with cheeks pressed against each other—into its placeholder that’s colorfully decorated with stickers and annotations in pen. Closing your shared scrapbook of memories, he lays his head on yours and speaks softly into the silence. “You don’t understand. I wish I could’ve known you longer. I wish I could’ve made more memories with you. I wish I had known you sooner.”

012 — 🐢. Your hand is already on the doorknob when you call out to Hansol that you’ll be going to run some errands. To your delight, the man is at your side immediately. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” He helps you pick out some bright red strawberries for the shortcake you want to try making tomorrow. He gives his opinion on what flowers would look best on your dining room table (spoiler alert: they’re white tulips). He even goes with you to the post office, standing in line for a whopping thirty seconds as you drop off your return package. On the way back to the car, you ask him what he wants to do next. He shrugs with an easy smile. “S’long as it's with you, I’m cool with whatever.”

013 — 🦦. “I knew you could do it!” Chan cheers, strong arms grabbing your waist to lift you up and spin you around. Your laughter is contagious, infecting him with your symptoms of pure adoration and a lightened heart. He places you gently on the ground, letting go for only a moment before his arms are enveloping you again in a hug. His comforting cologne fills your senses and you relax against his hold. Your body feels weightless, somehow, and any heaviness settled on your shoulders is gone as the man’s lips find the crown of your head. All the hard work, all the sleepless, worrisome nights led up to this moment—and you know you’d do it a thousand times over if given the chance to hear his euphoric words again.

#s — @etherealyoungk, @ylangelegy, @shinysobi, @heartepub, @junplusone, @fallminlove, @wheeboo. if you’d like to be notified when new releases drop, don’t hesitate to send in an ask! <3

[entitled-fangirl]

Little Doe (P2).

Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader

Warnings: making out, dom!Cregan, talks of death and ptsd, etc

A/n: This is short and sweet and a cliffhanger but- there will be a part 3, don't you fret

Part 1

Masterlist

..............................................

Cregan entered his solar. And the moment the door closed, his hands rubbed over his face and into his hair. His fingers tugged at the long strands as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Is everything alright?" Her soft voice called.

He'd almost forgotten about the small settee he had moved in here specifically for her. After doing so, she hardly ever left it. Especially on days she knew he'd be here. 

He stretched his shoulders back as his eyes took her in. He loved her in this relaxed state. It had taken a few weeks to get her there, but this was bliss. She was blissful. No need to keep up with the royal looks of tight dresses and intricate hair- not when she was with him. She was comfortable with him, trading it all for more relaxed dresses and hair loose from braids. He loved her just like this.

But the current concerned wrinkle in her brow as she looked at him ruined it. "'M fine. Just a disagreement at petitions today."

She abandoned the Stark History book to give him her full attention. "A disagreement?"

He sighed again at the thought of it, interlocking his fingers over his head. "There is a lord that simply does not know his place."

She hummed, choosing to say nothing to make him fill the space.

"He's j-" Cregan bit back his words, the anger turning into crude amusement. "He's both vial and vain and… much too blunt for my standards." He aimed his words at her, "I appreciate a disagreement. I will not tolerate disrespect." He wanted to make a point. But more than that, he just wanted her to agree with him.

"You do not deserve disrespect," she breathed. She was beginning to find her voice with him. Though, it was still soft.

"No, I do not."

"Nor should you have to tolerate it-"

"-I shouldn't!" He huffed, throwing his hands up. "I shouldn't. Perhaps a public example must be made of him." His voice quieted as he thought. "What would your mother do, hm? What did she do with disrespect? Or your father?"

They didn't speak much of her parents. Rhaenyra was long gone, her remains stuck in King's Landing. It loomed over the silver-headed few that survived like a dark storm cloud.

What would Rhaenyra have done?

"I'm unsure," she finally answered. "I was… kept from those parts of the kingdom."

A small chuckle left Cregan as his angered gaze turned admiring. "I know that, doe. But surely your brother talked."

Jace did. He was the finest gossiper she knew. That's how she always got her information during the war.

And Cregan knew that. He knew the two eldest Velaryons better than he knew himself at this point.

She dared to think that Cregan missed Jace.

As for her father dealing with disrespect? Which one?

Harwin would fulfill his name of 'Breakbones'. Laenor would have a strong talking to. Daemon… well. He fought a war for his wife's name, didn't he? 

"Perhaps he spoke a few times," she spoke, deeply in thought, seemingly lost in the memories of Dragonstone. Those warm days in the sun. Jace letting her ride with him on Vermax. Teaching Joffrey how to swim. 

The death of Luke. 

The death of Jace.

She physically blinked as the thoughts turned more and more sinister. "I try not to think of those things anymore."

He watched her face turn more convoluted and lost. He wanted to hit himself with how easily he'd brought back the horrid remembrance. She had been so comfortable and he had to come in and ruin the little peace she had.

"Don't tire yourself over it, sweet girl. Was only curious." He sat next to her on the settee, almost comedically with how large Cregan's body was on the small sofa. His shoulders slumped as the weight of his life set it- like it did every time he was comfortable. "I never quite know what to do," he admitted softly, keeping his eyes glued to his hands. "When your actions affect all of the North, they have to be right."

She shimmied into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. "What does a Stark wolf do?"

His lips quirked up. His sweet doe is telling him to give into his wolfish instincts. "Suppose I should banish him then?"

She wrapped her hand around his bicep, heaving a soft sigh and shrugging.

"Can I kiss you, doe?" He asked softly. 

He'd asked it before. That first time. And he'd been denied.

He said he could be patient. But that was proving itself to be a lot harder than he originally thought. 

He was her husband already. A man of his stature wouldn't have waited this long. He didn't care. It just made the rewards sweeter.

So he looked at her to gauge her reaction.

She had set her chin against his bicep now, looking through her lashes. Her big does eyes gaze up at him.

She slowly nods.

He has take a deep breath. He can't get too carried away with the small liberty she's given him.

His hand slowly reaches into her hair, pulling her away from his arm so he can turn and lean down to her level. "Your words," he reminds her, but his eyes are only on her lips. He wants to capture her voice perfectly for what she'll say now.

She hesitates, the words capturing in her throat. Until finally, a small plea makes its way through in a hoarse whisper. "Please, kiss me."

Cregan closes the gap with no hesitation, cupping her face in his large paw of a hand. 

His kiss was heavy. It felt weighted with both intensity and words unspoken. But he made it feel light.

With careful movements, he trails his other hand from her hair to her lower back and begins to lay her down on the settee. His lips never disconnect from hers, slipping his tongue past her lips with an expertise that made her gasp.

Her mother had once had a brief talk about sex with her. It was broad and strange. Something about feeling something bolden within your lower stomach- like adrenaline shooting up your spine.

She thought she was beginning to feel it.

She braved bringing a hand up his chest and back down again. It was frightening to not know exactly what to do. But exhilarating all the same.

He groaned and began to tug up her thin dress as he climbed comfortably over her. He swears he's not felt more beautiful skin in his life as his fingers brush over her legs.

But as his calloused hand runs up her thigh, she lets out a small sound of surprise that breaks his train of thought. He pulls his face from hers worriedly, though he's still holding back the feeling of ravaging her.

He takes in the sight of the small pants that break through her parted, swollen lips. She's a sight to behold.

He pulls her dress back down, relishing in the fact that his wife truly is beautiful. Even if he has yet to see all of her.

She pushes herself up to try to catch his lips again. But as their lips brush, he turns his head. And when she tried again, he muttered, "Don't."

Her face fell a bit. "Cregan-"

"Don't ask what a Stark wolf would do. Ever again," he warned lowly. "Don't encourage it."

She realized just how much he was holding back. Like he was hungry and had yet to eat in days.

But he tried to lighten his sudden harshness, tucking his face into her neck and nipping. "Might bite you, doe."

She gasped at the surprise of it, but flushed when it came out as a small groan.

"Oh," he muttered against her skin. "You liked that? You want me to give in? Mark you?" He traded his nipping for soft kisses, trailing them up her jaw until he hit a spot that pulled a noise out of her. He kissed and left kitten licks against it until her hands pulled at his hair. He admired the way she was putty in his hands. "Let all of the North know how the doe controls the wolf, hm? How he worships her? You want that?"

Cregan pulled away to get a look at her. Her glazed eyes set on him. Words tried to come from her lips but failed to make it through. Her mouth opened and shut with hazy intention. If that's how she responded to a kiss, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

He grinned, gripping her chin. "Hm?" He asked again. "Cause I promised not to touch you until you let me, little doe."

.............................................................

Taglist: @alyssa-dayne @twinkletwinklenotastar @kidd3ath @yujyujj @misswynters @cosmosnkaz @sithapprentice @kaniromi @lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog @alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867 @helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner @purple-1995

@dashcrashbash @rekis-doll

[itoshiabi]

Four Goals For You

Summary: Childhood friends turned first love—Sae Itoshi challenges you in the boldest way possible: "If I score a hat trick, you're going on a date with me."

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

The VIP lounge buzzes with quiet energy, a mix of calm and anticipation hanging in the air. Below, the stadium lights cast a brilliant glow over the field as fans fill the seats, their excited chatter building into a steady hum. Inside, the team is focused on their final pre-match preparations—some stretching, others engaged in casual conversation. The atmosphere is tense but controlled, the kind of silence that comes before something big.

And in the middle of it all, you sit, watching from the sidelines.

You're not just any guest. You're here at the personal invitation of Sae Itoshi himself!

You and Sae have known each other since childhood—family friends, to be exact. He never cared much for friendships, his ego keeping most people at arm's length, but somehow, you did manage to stay by his side. Maybe it was out of obligation, or maybe there was something more that neither of you dare to acknowledge.

But what you don't know is that Sae has been falling for you all this time. His first love—silent, unspoken, yet undeniably real.

Leaving for Spain was difficult for him. He had to leave his parents, Rin and YOU! The thought of someone else taking his place in your life haunted him, even if he never admitted it. And when he found out you're visiting Spain for the summer, he wasted no time inviting you to his game.

Now, as the final moments before kickoff tick away, Sae suddenly stands up.

The room quiets instantly. His teammates turn, curious. But Sae ignores them all, his teal eyes locked onto you. He strides forward, stopping just inches away.

Then, in front of everyone, he speaks.

"If I score a hat trick today, you're going on a date with me."

Silence.

You blink. Around you, the room suddenly erupts.

"What the hell?!" someone shouts.

"Did Sae just confess in the most Sae way possible?" another mutters.

"Wait, wait, hold on—Sae, are you serious?!"

Sae ignores them, his expression unwavering. He isn't joking. Not even a little.

Your heart pounds. "H-Huh?"

His voice is steady. "You heard me. Three goals, and you’re mine for the evening."

Heat creeps up your neck. The way he looks at you—calm, composed, yet utterly serious—is almost too much to handle. The entire team is waiting for your response.

You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. "…And if you don't?"

"Not happening."

The room explodes again.

"THIS GUY—"

"Who knew Sae could be such a show-off?!"

"Damn, now I actually want to see him miss just to see what happens—"

Sae's sharp glare cuts them off instantly. Then, without another word, he turns and walks toward the exit. "I'll see you after the match."

And just like that, he's gone.

.............................

The match was insane.

Sae played like a man possessed. Every touch, every movement is calculated perfection. His first goal? A clinical strike. The second? A breathtaking free kick. The third? A last-minute tap-in after effortlessly weaving through the defense.

Hat trick. Game over.

And just in case you think about backing out—he scores a fourth.

The stadium erupts, but Sae barely reacts. Instead, the moment the final whistle blows, he jogs toward the VIP section as he always does but this time his eyes are scanning the crowd for someone..... Searching for you!

You're still frozen in shock when he walks up at you. Without any drama he asks in his usual straightforward time "Four goals. No excuses. When's our date?"

Your face burns as his teammates roar with laughter behind him. You fake-huff with annoyance as you look away and mumble "…I was going to say yes after the third goal. Maybe even if you scored none... I still would have agreed." You pout.

A rare chuckle escapes him after seeing your rare pout, something softer in his gaze now. "Good. Because I wasn't stopping at three, anyway."

And in that moment, Sae Itoshi realised—his biggest victory isn't the match.

It's you.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

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

[lieslab]

If we could only turn back time

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After a Dispatch article leaks, your betrayed boyfriend kicks you out of your shared apartment and you're silenced in the worst way possible.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 5.1K

Trigger warning: Misunderstood trope, physical assault, anger, yelling, a car accident, plus graphic descriptions of physical injuries, and doctors/hospitals.

A/N: I had three hours of sad One Direction music, one request, and a dream. Requestee, you asked for angst and I have given it my all. I hope this meets every expectation and more <3

_ _ _

You were the light of Bang Chan’s life. At least, that’s what he thought. For months, his love grew for you. Over time, he opened up more and more. You crawled into his heart and made yourself at home. 

And then you tore it open. 

He thought he finally had the love of his life, but it turns out, you were just like the others. Not really loving him, but dragging along, clinging onto clout, and when the next man came, you jumped with both feet. You didn’t even say goodbye, but neither did he. 

There was no warning for either of you. One day, the two of you were head over heels for each other. The next, everything fell apart. Hearts cracked like stained glass. Tears fell, but the words from both of you didn’t provide the comfort the other so desperately craved. 

In the end, two hearts ripped apart. The world tipped in the wrong direction. You both lost your footing and for weeks, nothing would be the same for either of you, ever again. 

~ ~ ~ 

When you came home from buying groceries, the apartment was quiet, like usual. Chan’s warm presence had been gone since this morning. Up at the crack of dawn, he disappeared to continue making his dreams come true. 

You missed him when he was gone, just as he missed you, but dreams were important. No matter what happened between the two of you, it was the one thing you both agreed that it was important. No matter where your life took you, the most important thing was keeping focused on your dreams. 

Yes, the two of you were in love, but that wasn’t stopping either of you from pursuing your passions. Not yet engaged, the two of you vowed to be supportive of each other. Through thick and thin, in the risky moments, and everything in between; you swore to be there for one another. 

Your bare feet glided across the tile floor with ease. Without Chan, the apartment felt empty, but that didn’t stop you from trying to make it feel warm and fuzzy. Over on the side counter, you turned on the candle warmer. Maybe by the time Chan got home, the apartment would be full of a welcoming vanilla buttercream. 

You swore his cologne had hints of vanilla. He disagreed with you and insisted you didn’t know your scents. Just to prove a point, you bought the vanilla candle, and yet, he refused to see it.

He could be stubborn like that sometimes. Certain things he couldn’t see. No matter how hard and how obvious you attempted to make these things, he refused to see them. Sometimes, it was more frustrating than anything, but you learned to deal with every part of him; the good and the bad. 

You had your own set of flaws, too. Out of everyone existing in the world, there was nobody that you wanted to be with more than Chan. The two of you were still so young. There was a lifetime of adventures and fun to have. You were hoping the relationship between the two of you would last forever. 

It ended when Chan stormed through your front door. The bang of the front door slamming against the sidewall sent your heart racing. You grabbed a can of peas for defense and held your breath. 

Footsteps stormed through your living room. Your fingers turned pale around the can. A sigh of relief fell from you when you saw the furrow on Chan’s face. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me. What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” 

You put down the can and walked towards him. Your hands stretched out to grab his face. To your surprise, he swatted them away. Your eyes widen at the faint sting. “What are you-” 

“You don’t get to baby me after what you did!” 

“I-I did something? What did I-” 

“Shut up! You don’t get to pretend like you don’t know! You know I’ve felt like a piece of shit because I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! You know I travel for work and yet you still choose to hurt me in the worst way possible!” 

Confusion filled your face and it just pissed him off more. He jerked his Samsung phone from his pocket. You watched as he typed in the password. Your actions from the past few days rolled through your head like stop-motion. Each silent click, more scenes filled your head. 

None of them stood out. You couldn’t recall what you did wrong, but Chan was furious. Your mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. He flipped the screen to find the bold words of a Dispatch article. Your heart hit the ground with a sickening splat. 

Trouble in paradise: A Rocky Road Ahead For Stray Kids’ Bang Chan’s Romantic Relationship. 

Attached, two photos of you grinning at another JYP idol from another group. In one, you were waving at them. In another, you were leaning over and hugging them. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” 

“Really? Because you know what it looks like to me? It looks like you were attempting to hide a close relationship with someone in a younger group.” 

“That’s not true! Chan, it’s Dispatch! You can’t possibly believe that I-” 

“I want you out of my apartment.” 

Your face fell at his words. “You…you wouldn’t. Please, just let me explain and I-” 

“When have you ever talked about him? Never! You’ve never been close to another idol! Yet now, you’re hugging him?” 

“Chan, please!” 

“Get out!” 

“But-” 

“Out!” His voice raised. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out of my apartment! Don’t bother coming back!” 

The words were loud enough to frighten you. You left the grocery bags scattered on the kitchen island and took off. Tears filled your eyes. You wanted to explain, but he kept cutting you off. 

Too heated to think about the situation, his insecurities got the best of him. In the kitchen, he slumped against the counter with his head in his hands. Warm tears filled his eyes at the sound of your sniffles. 

He wanted to comfort you, but the hurt was too much. He grew to love you with everything he had and within one Dispatch article, his swollen heart popped. How could you do this to him? After everything the two of you had been through, why did you have to ruin it? 

Tears blurred your vision and you didn’t look back. You jerked items from the closet and tossed them in your suitcase. Grabbing handfuls from each of your dresser drawers, you tossed them in with everything. Even the toiletries, you didn’t have time to organize them. 

Chan wanted you to go, so you’d leave. At the end of the day, this was his apartment. You paid rent, but his name was the first on the contract. He paid the down payment, not you. 

You gave him one last desperate look as you passed by, but he didn’t see it. His name fell from your mouth in a weak croak, but he didn’t pull his hands from his eyes. “Please, just go away.” 

You spun around, gripped your suitcase tighter, and then you did. 

~ ~ ~ 

All night, you drove around without a destination in mind. You refused to call one of Chan’s members and plead for help. It’d only stir up drama in the group. That was the last thing you wanted. 

Numbness hung over your head. You still couldn’t believe everything that happened a few hours ago. If he would have listened, he would have understood. The tears dried up a while ago, but the empty feeling in your chest didn’t go away. 

Seoul’s late afternoon crept into another dark night. Gray blotted skies drifted into a pitch black. Neon lights reflected off the paint on your car, but the warm colors didn’t warm your heart. 

The car felt lonely without Chan. You’d give anything to hear his laughter from beside you. The playful banter while he reminded you to turn on the correct turn signal. It’d been a constant inside joke between the two of you. Ever since you accidentally flicked on the wrong signal and turned the wrong way, he’d never let it go. 

The way he tipped his head forward. Messy tendrils of dark hair fell over his forehead. His squeaky laugh warmed your heart. Such a far comparison from the anger that rattled the apartment walls earlier. 

You poked his dimples between the stoplights. On nights when the two of you wanted to get away from everyday life, you found peace in this car. You’d drive and be in control for once. He’d sit beside you with a hand on your thigh. 

Simple conversations filled the car. Love pooled between the two of you. Shared laughter, quiet conversations, and the secret getaway that your car provided you’d do anything to turn back time. 

You loved him for a reason. You always had and you always would. Just because photos told one story, it didn’t mean they told the entire story. Snippets didn’t capture the truth. The context was important, but Chan was too distraught tonight. 

Too stressed out. Too angry. Too frustrated. Things built up and that article was the breaking point. Those photographs became thorns in your relationship. In one day, the roses wilted. Withered petals gathered at your feet. 

Tomorrow would be better, you reassured yourself as you drove. Tomorrow, Chan would realize he was wrong. He jumped the gun in this situation. In the morning, he’d call you and apologize. 

Tomorrow, you’d be welcomed home with a heartfelt apology and a bouquet of fresh flowers. A glass full of red wine, sweets, and a home cooked dinner. Tomorrow, things will be okay again. These tears were temporary. This hurt wouldn’t last forever. 

At a stoplight, you grabbed your phone and dialed Changbin’s number. On speaker phone, you waited and waited, but he didn’t pick up. If anyone would know the truth and be able to rationalize Chan’s brain, it was him. 

The red light from the stoplights highlighted faint tear streaks. You sniffled, wiping your long sleeve across your dripping nose. Your eyes shut and your voice cut out and quivered as you spoke. 

“Please know that I didn’t mean to cause him or you guys any harm. I ran into him the other day and asked if he could help teach me a dance. He’s one of JYP’s best dancers and I know Stray Kids are busy. His group is on break and I just thought I could surprise Chan with a dance.” 

“Saying it out loud, I get that it’s stupid now. I was just hoping it’d cheer him up. He’s been so stressed lately. I thought the least I could do was make him laugh.” 

“If you get a chance and if he’s willing to hear it, please let him know I love him. I love him and I’m sorry. Dispatch is stupid and I hate them. You can even ask that idol and he’ll tell you the same thing. I’m so sorry, Changbin. I’ll talk to you later. I have to find a place to stay tonight.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shut your eyes. After clicking the end call button on your phone, you threw the device into your passenger’s seat. Maybe if you were lucky, Chan would hear out Changbin. Level-headed and rational, you knew Chan appreciated the advice he gave out. 

A car horn honked behind you. Your eyes quickly reopened and the green light stared back at you. Unblinking, you grumbled beneath your breath. “I’m going, I’m going, geez.” You inched out into the intersection, expecting to continue going straight. 

You weren’t expecting your car to jerk left. Your screams blended with the sound of crushing metal. Orange sparks flew. The sickening scent of burnt rubber and diesel hit your nose. Your seatbelt cut into your neck and briefly cut off your air flow. 

The last thing you remembered was the horn of the semi-truck vibrating your entire car. 

~ ~ ~ 

It wasn’t Dispatch that was the first one to find out about the devastating car accident; instead, it was Jeongin. He sucked in a deep breath as he walked into the hospital. Last night, after struggling with the flu, someone admitted his friend to the hospital. 

He mumbled beneath his breath, trying to figure out what to say. A blue medical mask sat over his nose and mouth. He knew to keep his distance, but he still felt awful that they were here. 

Hospitals were lonely. In the brief moments when families and friends disappeared. When the nurses were following their routine rounds and doctors were checking in on other patients, people were left alone. The isolating white walls. The uncomfortable piercing beeps from the heart rate monitor. The cold IV drips, distributing medicine directly into the bloodstream. 

Surgical stitches ached. Disease weighed heavily upon the lungs. Intubation and the mechanical push and pull of oxygen and carbon dioxide. Hospitals were the opposite of warm and welcoming. Cold and sterile, he rather wished his friend was at home. 

The colorful bouquet of multicolored flowers was the brightest thing in the hallway. Closed doors with numbers passed by as he walked. The nurse’s announcement of his friend’s room number echoed in his head. 

It dissipated when he heard your name from a nurse in a cracked room. Before he knew it, he was pushing the door open and stepping inside. On the hospital bed, you were unrecognizable. Scrapes and cuts laced your face. Both plum purple eyes swelled shut.  

The right side of your face puffed up unnaturally. Black stitches poked out from the bottom of your lip. That was just your face. That wasn’t beginning to touch the cast on your arm and the rest of your body hidden beneath the blue covers. 

He knew it was you. He recognized the promise ring on your ring finger. He had helped Chan pick it out. He glanced around, searching for Chan, but he wasn’t there.

“Are you lost?” 

He glanced up to find the nurse. Her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. She observed him through black, circular-rimmed glasses. 

He shook his head and repeated your name. The nurse frowned and he pointed to you. “Is this-” 

“Are you family?” 

“Brother.” 

You weren’t biologically related, but it felt true deep down. 

~ ~ ~ 

Changbin tried to bring the situation up to Chan, but every time he spoke your name, Chan would shut down. From what Changbin knew, Chan didn’t know what happened to you. The rest of the guys did, but they all received the same results. Every time they spoke your name, Chan grew irritated and short-tempered. 

“I don’t want to talk about them! Stop bringing them up! Enough!” 

The charming and charismatic leader unraveled at the seams. His heart was full of love for you and you ruined it. That wasn’t something he took lightly. The hurt oozed out in other ways. 

His songs weren’t coming together as easily anymore. He used to get your feedback when he went home, but now the apartment was empty. The bed was colder without you. He was lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it. 

He snapped during dance practice. After he snapped at a manager, a manager lectured him about authority and respecting his elders. Nobody understood the hurt that he was going through. It didn’t help that Dispatch began showing up and bothering him. 

They could take all the pictures they wanted. He’d never give them the satisfaction of breaking his heart. Instead of listening, he put on his airpods and cranked up the music. He shoved through the camera flashes with his baseball hat low and a face mask covering the rest of his face. They didn’t deserve to turn his heartbreak into entertainment. 

He’d never let them break him. They already did it once. You were gone and the longer you went without a call or a text, he assumed they were right. They caught you cheating and you accepted it. You didn’t fight for your relationship. 

You didn’t call and beg for him to take you back. You didn’t call and try to explain. He sent you one text, but you never opened it. He was at a complete loss without you. 

Some would call him stubborn for it, but he’d say that he was just trying to protect himself from more hurt. 

~ ~ ~ 

The lonely days for you didn’t stay lonely for long. Jeongin discovered you hours after your accident. The days slipped by, but you weren’t alone anymore. Unconscious and pumped full of medicine, sure. They were far from lonely. 

Every evening, the guys took turns hanging out beside your bed. Seungmin would sing the songs you liked. Jeongin told you funny stories of Chan, trying to bring you back to consciousness. Minho brought you warm comments from the fans who found out about your accident. The rest of the guys had their own things, but Chan’s voice never filled the room. 

Stuck in a coma, things were dark. Occasionally, you could hear the beeping of your machines. You could feel your lungs expand and compress unnaturally. Your body felt like a shell more than anything. Voices came and went, but never Chan’s. 

In the darkness, you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure if you were dead or not. Stranger’s voices appeared in soft whispers and then they faded. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew you were exhausted. 

Those audible voices and sounds never lasted for long. You couldn’t feel pain. Every sensation within you felt numbed. A heavy fog filled your head and something clouded your vision. 

You attempted to open your eyes every so often, but they didn’t budge. Someone glued them shut. Every limb tingled with tiny pins and needles. You didn’t know if this was death, but it didn’t feel comforting. Somewhere between the realm of the living and dead, doctors kept you in a medically induced coma. 

How else could they heal the swelling of your brain? ~ ~ ~  

“I can’t take this anymore!” Felix cried out. He shoved himself from the chair and pulled out his phone. “This is such bullshit! I’m tired of keeping this from him.”

“Well, we’ve tried. What do you propose we do? Tell him to get to the hospital without mentioning his significant other’s name?” Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest. “Good luck. We’ve tried everything and it’s been twenty-something days.” 

“Actually, that’s exactly what we should do. How much longer can this go on for? This is pathetic, even for him! I get that he’s hurt, but look at them!” He reached over and gestured towards your bed. 

You remained intubated and unmoving. The swelling in your puffy eyes faded a little more each day, but they still looked awful. The stitches in your lips disappeared, but a fresh pink scar remained. 

Swirls of purple and blue smeared along your face. Broken bones reset and were on the mend. You were a living miracle. The first responders were afraid you wouldn’t make it, but when they pulled you from the wreckage, you continued breathing. 

So he unlocked his phone and hit Chan’s contact name. 

“Hello?” 

“Chan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You need to get to the hospital right now. Call me when you get here.” 

“WHAT?” 

“I can’t talk. Just call me when you get here.” 

“Felix!” 

He grimaced and hung up the phone. Seungmin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You probably gave him a heart attack. He’s going to kill you when he gets here, you know?” 

“That’s a problem for later.” ~ ~ ~ 

Chan flew from his apartment. His heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Losing you was hard enough. If anything happened to a member of his group, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Come on, come on!” He fumbled with his seat belt in one hand. With the other, he swung his car door shut. In seconds, he jerked the car in reverse and slammed the pedal. 

He lurched down the driveway, spun the wheel with a rubbered squeal, and shifted the car into drive. The engine roared and he sped down the road. 

What-ifs grew stronger on the way to the hospital. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled to stay calm. Last he knew, everyone was fine so what happened? Who? How bad was it? 

The moment he parked, he whipped out his phone and dialed Felix’s number. When Felix responded, his voice came out frantic. “I’m here! Where are you?” 

“Room one-twelve. I’ll meet you half-way. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Wait, who is-” 

Click. 

“Fucking hell!” He cried out. He grabbed the keys, sped from the car, and rushed towards the automatic door. 

Everything was a blur inside. Voices appeared from the waiting room. The receptionist glanced over the front desk and eyed him, but she didn’t stop him. He glanced left and right and opted to go left. 

The carpet disappeared beneath his feet and turned into squeaky clean white vinyl. An easy material to clean and disinfect daily. He rushed forward when he saw Felix appear down the edge of the hall. 

The squeak of his shoes didn’t matter. He ignored the doctor he passed that told him to stop running. By the time he reached Felix, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Who is it? What happened? Tell me!” 

“Just, come on.” 

“Felix!” 

Felix didn’t budge. He grabbed Chan’s wrist and pulled him along. His chest filled with anxiety and his lungs compressed. When the pair appeared at the right door, Felix dropped his wrist and slowly pushed the door open. 

He expected to find Han or Jeongin. A broken and battered Hyunjin or Changbin hooked to oxygen. This was the intensive care unit. This was for the severe cases. The patients that required a close eye and keen detailing. 

Upon seeing you, his face fell. The bruising upon your face. The tube down your throat. Your lifeless skin and unmoving limbs. There was no sign of the life the two of you created. 

No reassuring smiles, or laughter. Seungmin sat solemnly beside your bed in a chair. “I’m shocked that you finally made it.” 

“What the hell happened?” He hurried to the opposite side of your bed. His hand reached out, but he didn’t touch you. Too frightened by your state, he didn’t know where he could touch without causing you pain. 

“Try their hand,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up. He whirled around to find a nurse in blue scrubs. “Their hands survived the crash. You can touch their hands if you wish.” 

“Sorry, I came in to get some vitals. It’ll only be a few moments and then I can leave you alone. Visiting hours are open until eleven o’clock tonight. I’ve never seen you here before, so I thought you should know.” 

“How long have they been like this?” He whispered. Tears filled his eyes and his heart ached. 

“Since the night you told them to leave your apartment.” 

“What?” 

“Felix!” Seungmin’s voice shot out sternly. “It’s not like that, Chan. Yes, the accident happened that night, but don’t beat yourself up over it. A driver of a semi-truck was speeding and couldn’t stop in time.” 

“That was nearly a-” 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Felix’s hand appeared on his shoulder. “We tried to tell you, but every time we tried to utter their name, you were angry. We should have found a better way to tell you, but…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say. 

The nurse grabbed your vitals and disappeared to give the guys time with you. Chan collapsed to his knees and grabbed your hand with both of his. For nearly a month, you’d been stuck in this bed. He thought you’d given up on the relationship with him. 

This entire time you haven't texted him back. Not because you were angry. Not because you were sad. Not because Dispatch’s rumors were true. But it was because you physically couldn’t. Intubated and trapped in a medically induced coma, you couldn’t reach out, even if you wanted to. 

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, I-I thought that they-” 

“Easy, hyung.” 

“What did I do? What the fuck did I do? If I wouldn’t have kicked them out of the apartment, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have been so angry. I should have let them explain.” 

Seungmin shot Felix a look. He shrugged and gently rubbed Chan’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Channie. You were hurting and you didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

He was supposed to be the leader. A strong pillar and an even stronger influence on his younger members. As the eldest member, he was supposed to be reliable. At that moment, he crumbled. Tears appeared in his eyes as a sob broke from his chest. 

No wonder you had been so quiet. He called you once and hit your voicemail. He longed to hit the call button, just so he could hear your voice again. He squeezed your hand tighter and pressed it against his cheek. 

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, please! Come back to me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I'm so sorry!” 

Tears blurred his vision. He struggled to comprehend your mangled face. Your other hand sat wrapped in a cast. You must have been so broken when you arrived here. He wasn’t here to comfort you. He wasn’t here to try and console and cheer you up. 

A wheeze fell from his throat. The betrayal slicing through his heart disappeared. This time, he felt like he was the one that had betrayed you. He hurt you in the most unimaginable way possible. 

You laid here broken and half-dead. You spent hours fighting for your life alone. And where was he? Walking around your shared apartment drowning in his own self-pity. He’d never forgive himself for this. 

“What is this?” He finally whispered after his sobs faded away. His throat was raw. His voice came out scratchy. “How bad is it?” 

“The doctor said they should wake up at any time. They weren’t breathing on their own. A medically induced coma ensured to make sure their brain’s swelling could stop.” 

“It was that bad? They’ve been suffering through all that alone?” His bottom lip quivered. He grew afraid of the response he’d receive. 

“No,” Seungmin spoke up. “Jeongin found out first. He was the one that notified us. He said he tried to tell you, but when he showed up at your apartment, you told him to leave.” 

Horror filled Chan at the memory. Later that same night, back when you left, Jeongin appeared on his front porch pale. Instead of hearing out the younger member, he told him to get lost and slammed the door in his face. Deep down, he was afraid to be viewed as weak in front of the younger member. 

The memory stung his heart. Poor Jeongin just wanted him to know the truth and he slammed the door in his face. No wonder Jeongin seemed so nervous around him. He was probably worried that Chan would find out the truth and yell at him for not telling him. 

He rubbed his face and pawed at his eyes. “So does everyone know?” 

“Everyone besides you.” 

“Sorry you’re late. None of us knew how to get you here. You’d never listen when we tried to talk about them.” 

“I was such a stupid, selfish asshole.” 

“You were hurting,” Felix corrected him. 

“And a stupid, selfish asshole.” 

“You were.” 

“Seungmin!” Felix cried. 

“No, I want him to know that he was. I’m not going to sit here and pity him. You were a jerk, Chan. I hope you remember this moment whenever you try to act like an asshole again.” 

The words were a slap in the face, and yet he wanted to laugh. As harsh as Seungmin’s words were, they rang true. He was a jerk and maybe, in the cruelest way possible, this was his karma. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but paused when your fingernails scratched at his hand. The tube in your throat caused you to choke. You couldn’t fully see as your eyes half-opened. Still swollen, your vision remained limited. Silhouettes appeared and voices became more distinct. 

“Get a nurse!” 

Footsteps hit the ground. You gargled and reached your opened mouth. “No, no, no! You can’t touch that yet.” 

“Easy, love. Try to relax and don’t fight the tube. It’s breathing for you right now.” 

The distress and quickened-pace of the heart rate monitor hit a hiccup. Chan’s familiar voice grounded you, but you still struggled with the tube. Your lungs wanted to expand, but the machine compressed them. You choked again, still fighting the pesky thing. 

More footsteps. Another silhouette. Glasses on an unfamiliar face and latex rubbing against your skin. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m going to take this out now, okay? On the count of three. One, two, three!” 

You gasped and coughed at the removal. Your lungs filled with air of your own accord. More coughing. You attempted to swallow, but your mouth was so dry. The lingering phantom of a headache filled the side of your head. 

“Try a sip of this, sweetheart.” 

The nurse’s tone was honey to your ears. You swallowed the water the moment it hit your lips. One swallow and then another. Two more and suddenly, you were gulping like crazy. 

“Easy, or you’ll choke,” Chan gently reminded you. 

The nurse pulled the glass away when you finished. “Do you know where you are?” 

“Hospital?” 

“Do you remember your name?” 

“Chan?” 

“I’m right here, honey. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Do you remember your name? This nice nurse wants to help you get better. Your doctor is on his way.” 

Every question asked, you answered it perfectly. A buzz of excitement swirled around the room from your consciousness. Seungmin and Felix left the room to give everyone the good news. 

When the doctor concluded you were stable, he disappeared with the nurse. A silence fell between you and Chan. You still couldn’t see perfectly, but you could feel the weight of his hand in yours. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry for that night.” 

“I don’t want to talk about that night.” 

“I was an idiot.” 

“Dumbass,” you weakly corrected him. 

“I see getting hit by a semi-truck hasn’t taken away your sass.” 

“If I can survive this, I can survive anything.” 

“I love you and I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, I love you and I don’t want to hear anything else about that. I’m so tired. Can you sing me to sleep or something?” 

“If I do, promise you won’t die?” 

“I promise.” 

Even if you couldn’t make out his face, you knew his voice, and that was good enough for you. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

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[bomber-grl]

The Distraction I Needed

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Gn!Reader

Word count: 2,581

-

Damian Wayne stared across the classroom, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, and a faint scowl on his face. He was not happy. Not with the assignment, not with the teacher, and certainly not with the person sitting just two desks away from him.

You.

For months now, you and Damian had been engaged in a bitter academic rivalry. Whether it was the most difficult calculus problem or a history essay on ancient civilizations, you two were constantly battling for the top spot in every class. There were no alliances on the battlefield of academia. No mercy. Just pure, unadulterated competition.

Damian had, of course, figured out your secret identity. It didn’t take a detective to put two and two together. You were his enemy in every way. You were a villain– and that’s not just what he called you in his head. You had an uncanny ability to throw him off his game, whether it was with your sarcastic remarks or... well, that thing you did with your smile. You were his biggest grievance and biggest distraction.

It was infuriating.

“Damian,” you said, tilting your head with a teasing grin. “Struggling with the homework, or just busy being edgy again?”

Damian glared at you from across the room. He could practically hear your thoughts: teasing him, messing with him—like always. You weren’t a truly evil villain, not like the others. You had your own quirky way of causing chaos, and it often involved messing with him. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“I’m not pretending,” Damian muttered under his breath. “I’m just not wasting my time on a distraction that doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, so you admit I’m a distraction?” you shot back, your grin widening. “That’s cute.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You're insufferable."

You laughed, not deterred by his less-than-thorny comments, “Well, you say insufferable, I say irresistible. But hey, we can agree to disagree.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, “This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, it’s ridiculous, huh?” You smirked, leaning across your desk to get closer. “Well, if it’s so ridiculous, why do you keep coming back for more?”

His face flushed and his collar suddenly seemed tighter, uncomfortably so. He huffed as he heard you distant laugh, knowing when you had won all too well.

You were a constant thorn in his side, but it wasn’t just the rivalry. You had a way of getting under his skin—flirting, teasing, and constantly making everything more complicated.

Again, Of course, he knew your secret identity. It wasn’t like you were subtle about it, after all. As V/N, you were someone he was supposed to stop. Someone he was supposed to defeat. Someone who, despite your occasional teasing, was still technically his enemy.

But that didn’t make you any less... intriguing.

After class, you sidled up to Damian by his locker, grinning as if you owned the entire hallway.

“You owe me,” you said with a cocky tone, hands on your hips. “You’re always so stiff in class. Must suck having been born with a stick up your ass, so how about I treat you to lunch?”

Damian, fully prepared to shut you down, found himself momentarily distracted by how you were standing there, your expression somehow a perfect mix of playful and dangerous. You were ridiculous, but he couldn’t deny that a part of him wanted to see where this absurd interaction would lead.

“I’m not paying for your food,” he said flatly, though he didn’t move to walk away.

“A little frugal don't you think? But, I know,” you said, giving him that sly smile. “You’re coming with me, though. It’ll be fun.”

Damian glanced around—he couldn’t just walk away now. Besides, it was... lunch. What harm could it do?

-

The two of you ended up at a small café in town, the kind that you would have never guessed a high-profile heir to Wayne Enterprises would ever be seen in. But there he was, sitting across from you, pretending not to be completely distracted by your presence.

“I’ll have the usual,” you told the waiter, then turned to Damian, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You should try something new. A little adventure in your otherwise dull life for once.”

Damian didn’t want to admit it, but... you had a point. He always played everything safe. He might’ve been strict through and through, but his interactions with you were anything but predictable.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, trying to hide the way he was genuinely curious about what you’d pick. “This is stupid.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” you teased, leaning back in your chair, completely unbothered. “But we both know you can’t get me out of your head. Not with that look on your face.”

Damian’s eyebrow twitched as he looked away. “I’m not—” He cut himself off, realizing how stupid that sounded. “I’m not thinking about you, In fact, you’re the last thing on my mind.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, giving him that look that said you knew exactly what was going on inside his head. “Because it looks to me like you are. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Damian.”

Damian’s grip on his drink tightened. “Stop making everything... complicated.”

“Well, someone has to,” you said, tapping your fingers on the table, seemingly too pleased with the effect you had on him. “It’s too easy to mess with you, Damian. It’s fun. Deny how you feel about me but you can't deny that.”

He didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t very well admit that he was starting to wonder if you were right. Maybe he did think about you more than he wanted to. Maybe you were starting to get under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to. And maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as indifferent as he liked to think.

-

Later that night, after a very complicated altercation involving the two of you fighting side-by-side against a group of criminals (which neither of you had really expected to happen), Damian found himself alone in his room, staring at the ceiling. Sure, you were technically a villain, stealing candy from babies and all, but you actually teamed up with him for this.

It had been a mess, but a fun one. He had to admit, for a villain, you were... not bad. He thought about how, after taking down the bad guys, you’d playfully ruffled his hair, called him a "stubborn little knight," and teased him for “being too serious.”

It was honestly... kind of endearing.

But that was impossible, right?

He wasn’t supposed to like you. You were a villain. A villain. His father had warned him time and time again about those kinds of entanglements. And yet...

“He still fell for Catwoman,” Damian muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling. Was he really becoming like his father? The thought made him groan in frustration. How could someone like him—someone who was so focused, so serious—even think about you like that?

“Absurd,” he muttered again, slamming his pillow down onto his bed. “I’m just being distracted. That’s all.”

-

The next day, you found him in the hallway again, as if you were always waiting around to throw him off balance.

“Ready for class?” you asked innocently, though the playful smirk tugging at your lips suggested otherwise.

Damian sighed, looking at you with the same exasperated expression as always. But this time, there was something different about the way he stared at you.

He couldn’t explain it. But for once, the rivalry—academic or otherwise—didn’t seem as important as the fact that, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as annoyed by you as he liked to pretend.

“Stop doing that,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up slightly. “You’re distracting.”

You grinned wider, eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint. “I know. But you like it, don’t you?”

Damian froze, his mind spiraling into chaos. He didn’t want to admit it, but... he didn’t have to, did he? The more you teased him, the more he realized just how impossible it all was.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, turning away before you could see the faintest flicker of a smile on his lips.

And in the back of his mind, despite every bit of logic telling him to keep away, Damian couldn't stop the thought from creeping in:

Maybe, just maybe, this ridiculous rivalry—this ridiculous teasing—wasn’t as bad as he thought.

-

It had been a week since you’d been absent from school. A whole week.

At first, Damian didn’t think much of it. Sure, he had gotten used to your teasing, your constant attempts to throw him off course, and your infuriatingly distracting presence. But no big deal, right? He could handle it. The quiet, the lack of you trying to “distract” him in class... it wasn’t like he needed you there. Not at all.

But as the days went on, something started to feel... off.

Damian found himself staring at his empty desk next to him in class. The seat that usually held you, with your smug little smile and obnoxious comments, was eerily vacant. The whole dynamic of the room felt empty. The lessons, the homework, the constant battle for first place—it was all so boring without you there. He didn’t have to think about your teasing or try to keep his cool around you anymore. And that, strangely enough, was the problem. He missed it.

He missed you. And it bugged the hell out of him.

It wasn’t like he was waiting for you to show up so you could mess with him, but... okay, maybe a little. There was something about your antics, something about how unpredictable and ridiculous you were, that had wormed its way into his heart. He never admitted it, of course, but he was more aware of it than he liked to admit. And now? Now, with you gone, there was a noticeable hole in his routine.

On the seventh day of your absence, as Damian sat at his desk, trying—unsuccessfully—to focus on an assignment, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

“Hello?” Damian answered, frowning. He didn’t trust random calls, especially when they were so cryptic.

The voice on the other end was distorted, obviously masked. “Damian Wayne. We have someone you care about. You know who they are.” There was a pause, a deep, unsettling breath before the voice continued. “If you want them back, come alone. They’re close, but not for long.”

Damian’s heart skipped. His mind immediately went to you. You were his rival, his annoyance, but—damn it—he cared about you. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

He clenched his jaw. “Where are they?”

“Come find out,” the voice mocked, before hanging up.

Damian’s eyes blazed with fury. He didn’t even hesitate. Grabbing his suit and mask from the nearby closet, he donned the Robin persona, immediately gearing up for what would inevitably be a chaotic rescue mission. He wasn’t going to wait for his father, or Nightwing, or anyone. This was his fight. His responsibility. His problem.

Within minutes, he was in the Batcave, and he went straight for the Batmobile. “Damian, where are you going?” Alfred's Voice rang out, calm and collected as always.

“I’m going alone. I don’t need backup,” Damian shot back, his voice hard and unwavering.

“Master Damian—”

“I said, I don’t need backup, don’t tell anyone else where I’m headed.”

Alfred sighed, but he knew better than to argue. Damian was already out the door before he could stop him.

-

Damian arrived at the location—a decrepit warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. As he stalked in, his senses went on high alert. There were too many men. Too many voices. Too much noise. But there was no sign of you yet.

“Where are they?” he demanded, voice low, as he threw one of the thugs across the room. The other men scattered, yelling in confusion. He had no patience for this.

One thug tried to come at him with a crowbar. Damian knocked him out with a swift punch to the face. He couldn’t afford to waste time with these idiots. All he cared about was getting to you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of beating up bad guys and tossing them out of the warehouse toward the police, he spotted you, tied to a chair in the far corner of the room.

You looked beat up—bruises covering your face, your clothes torn. But you were still conscious, still... you.

“Damian…” You smiled weakly, your voice still laced with that same mischievous tone. “Well, well. If it isn’t my knight in shining armor.”

Damian’s chest tightened. “Can you stand?” he asked, trying to hide how worried he was.

You chuckled softly, even though it sounded strained. “Well, it’s not every day I get rescued by a charming vigilante. This is definitely a new look for you, Robin.” You smirked, clearly trying to make light of the situation.

Damian was fuming, both angry at the situation and relieved you were still alive. “Don’t make jokes,” he muttered, quickly cutting the ropes that bound you. “You look like you’ve been through hell, don’t torture me now as payback.”

“I’m fine,” you said, rolling your eyes, but there was a flicker of gratitude in your voice. “I’ve had worse. I had to stitch a cut across my entire stomach once–”

“Stop being so difficult,” Damian snapped, not even trying to hide the concern in his tone as he helped you to your feet. “You’re lucky I even came for you.”

“Oh, don’t sound so upset, my little knight,” you teased, winking at him despite your battered state. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy the attention.”

Damian scowled. “You’re insufferable.”

“Only for you,” you replied with a playful grin, ignoring how wobbly your legs were. “Come on, admit it. You’ve missed me.”

Damian’s face flushed, and he quickly averted his eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, clearly enjoying making him squirm. “You’ve probably been lonely without me. Bet the whole school feels empty without my sparkling presence.”

He shot you a look that could kill. “I’m not answering that.”

You laughed, clearly amused by the whole situation. But it wasn’t lost on you that Damian’s icy exterior was starting to crack, just a little.

As the two of you walked out of the warehouse together, Damian’s mind was whirling. His usual irritation toward you was clouded by something else—something much more complicated that he wasn’t willing to acknowledge.

Once you were safely away from the scene, in a more neutral space to talk, you couldn’t resist one last jab.

“So, how’s the whole ‘I don’t need anyone’ thing working out for you, Mr. ‘I’m so edgy, and oh did I mention that I’m a lone wolf’?” you asked with a smirk.

Damian shook his head, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “You’re impossible.”

But, deep down, he couldn’t help but feel... relieved that you were safe.

“Yeah, I know. You’ve told me that like a million times” You grinned up at him, your usual playful attitude as strong as ever. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”

Damian just muttered something under his breath, refusing to admit anything, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

You were insufferable. And yet, somehow, you’d wormed your way into his heart.

[seobinghard]

PIERCING — k.hj

[ ☆ ] summary: hongjoong needs help with his ear piercings. or he just really needs you.

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!kq employee!reader. tags: idol!au, older!reader (two years), fluff, suggestive. tw: suggestive, slight dubcon, hongjoong's very possessive. he's a red flag ngl. mind games. mind games. mind games. this work does not depict hongjoong irl in any way, obvi. wc: 0.5k i think.

there's something so intimate about helping hongjoong remove his ear piercings.

he'd injured his right hand during dance practice a week ago; ring finger, now wrapped in a splint, black like his hair, ruffled and a bit overgrown after the europe tour.

you're not supposed to be here—in the quiet of his studio, you should be back at your desk finalising the concept design for the boys' next photoshoot for dazed but how are to say 'no' when your favourite boy asks you so sweetly, "noona, can you help me?"

hongjoong sits comfortably in his studio chair, legs spread apart so you can stand in between.

he's wearing black jeans–washed out and ripped at the knees–with a plain black tee; simple, clean. nothing spectacular. yet you can't help but feel breathless in his presence; suffocating, almost.

breathing in, you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, fingers deftly removing his silver conch piercing, then the hoop, then another, placing the jewellery one by one on a the desk behind you. you can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath burn against the skin of your forearm as he slowly leans into your touch like a pet would its owner. "like you touching me." he purrs softly, voiced laced with a flirtatious lilt. without warning, his hand glides gently up the back of your thigh, pulling you toward him as he looks up at you with a feline smirk, "like touching you more."

surprise paints your face, but you don't move. "j-joong, what are you doing?"

"i missed you," he murmurs, arms slipping around your waist as he rests his head against your chest. "did you miss me too?"

you and hongjoong are close, but you've always kept it professional, at least you tried to. he can cross a line or two–like now, but you've always been quick to shut his advances down. you know he likes you. and maybe you do too, but with how green you are in your career, you wouldn't risk it for a coworker's affection, especially not one so prominent and promising.

so you choose ignore his question and the heat in cheeks, and quietly move onto his other ear. "just ... tilt your a head a little for me?"

he does as told, reluctantly pulling away from your body. you can tell from the hitch in his breathing that he's not pleased. "you're avoiding me."

you are.

"i'm not." your words left your mouth a bit too quick for your liking. "i'm here, am i not?" you smile, praying he doesn't catch onto your desperation to dash out his studio and back to your little safe corner in the marketing office.

"you're glancing at the clock every second, do you need to be somewhere?" hongjoong asks, feigning concern.

he doesn't care if you need to be somewhere; you're right where you're meant to be. with him. and now that he has you right in front of him after three long months of being on tour overseas, of not seeing your pretty face and hearing your pretty voice call out his name, he'd be a fool to let you slip away anytime soon—not now. not ever.

"you're nervous," he whispers, grabbing your wrist.

you freeze, turning to him with flustered eyes. "what are you–"

slowly and steadily, hongjoong rises to his feet and before you can even process what's happening, you're backed against the desk, caged in his arms. "don't be nervous, baby. it's just you and me. you know me."

do you? because the last time you thought did, you agreed to help him remove his piercings—only to realise his intention was to trap you here in his studio all along.

you avert your gaze when joong leans in, but your defiance only makes his grin grow even wider. "noona," he whines, caressing your cheek ever-so-tenderly, "don't be like this."

he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips on yours.

"joong, stop–" there's restraint in your voice, but it's quickly put out by his kiss as he tightens his hold on your nape, pulling you into him until your frown melts into moans, until your body completely gives out and you're nothing but a putty mess in his arms to catch, to protect, to care for. just like how he intended for you to be—all his.

"you have no idea how long i wanted this," he groans against your neck, leaving a trail of hot, heavy kisses on your skin before returning to your lips, breathing heavily, "you didn't answer my question. did you miss me? hm? tell me i've been on your mind like how you've been on mine."

there's an aching need in his voice, his eyes wide and pleading as if hearing a 'no' would crush him to pieces. you can tell him the truth; that yes—yes, you did think about him day and night, think about when you'd see him again, his name gnawing at you like a storm you can't escape. but, he also tricked you into his studio. two can play this game.

so, you tell him, "no. i don't."

hongjoong lets out a wry laugh, immediately catching onto the tremor in your voice. "fuck, my baby's a liar."

you're never leaving his studio.

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved. / m.list

a/n: chewing iron bars rn i need him so bad. this was supposed to be one paragraph LMAO tell me how we ended up here.

[revelboo]

REEVVEEELLLL

That Rumble fic DESTROYED ME. If you can or want to I NEED a part 2.

Bringing that sucker home and trying to sexily help take off his 'costume' but we find out 'HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK THATS A REAL ROBOT'

Thank you dear author xoxo

Hi! Rumble’s fic is an ongoing storyline. I’m just trying to go back and create proper first chapters for some of my fics

Alcohol Eyes Pt 10

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Loading up plastic totes with clothes, food, anything you might even possibly need and a lot of crap you probably don’t, because what do you even pack to move in with your two alien boyfriends who as far as you can tell are hiding from the government? And they’re both adding stuff to the totes every time you’re not watching them. You’ve already had to remove the manual for your fridge, a TV remote, and a stuffed tiger that had somehow escaped the purge of anything your ex had given you. That had been a fun little bonfire. “What do we say again?” Frenzy asks as he lifts one tote and Rumble grabs the other.

• “We’re filming a TikTok video and you’re cosplayers. Not aliens,” you say with a little frown as you look around your home. And Rumble really hopes you’re not having second thoughts about agreeing to go with them. “I think that’s it.” Turning, you flash him that same mischievous little smile you’d given him in the club right before you’d pulled him down for a kiss. The one that goes straight to his spike. How far out is Thundercracker? They might have time for a quickie. But you’re opening the door and he groans and dutifully follows you outside instead of bending you over the kitchen counter. Figures the Seeker probably wouldn’t appreciate them fragging in his interior, either. “Your guy is meeting us in the park?”

• Their guy had been annoyed that they’d commed him, words clipped and angry. Trying to blow them off with an ‘I’m busy,’ before finally relenting. Shifting the box in his hands, Frenzy follows you in Rumble. They’re going to owe the Seeker for this, but it’s at least delaying the inevitable. Explaining to the boss that they’re keeping you. And that they need their own habsuite now. “Said he would. He’s usually good for his word,” he says. Grinning widely at an elderly human walking a tiny little dog that yaps at them as disapproving as its owner. Primus, that human must be thousands of years old, skin sagging and bunching, hair gray and fluffy. Hears your cheerful excuse the old lady didn’t even ask for as the woman hurries her little dog away.

• Cutting across the street and through the woods to get to the park and avoid running into anyone else, you tug your coat closer around yourself. You’d dressed a bit nicer than normal since you’re kind of like a human-alien dignitary. Though, dignitaries probably aren’t supposed to be fucking the other diplomats. Or maybe that’s normal. Furthering human-alien relations one orgy at a time. You’re like an explorer discovering uncharted territory. And you stop short. “Is that a fucking jet?” Just in the middle of the woods?

• “Meet Thundercracker,” Rumble mutters as the Seeker transforms and kneels to stare at them in dismay. Aware of how much sleeker and powerful the Seeker looks compared to them. ‘You didn’t say anything about a human. Why is there a human?’ The Seeker growls and Rumble shifts the box to one hand and hooks an arm around you. “This is our mate.” And the Seeker vents, servos lifting to press to his helm when you wiggle your fingers at him before curling into Rumble’s side, attention firmly on him instead of Thundercracker and that little flicker of jealousy fades. ‘Why not,’ Thundercracker groans, reaching for the totes to subspace them. ‘Soundwave has no idea, does he?’

Previous

[rhiannonsknife]

hc of yj characters asking fem!reader out for valentines?

— VALENTINE‘S DAY WITH THE YELLOWJACKETS

— it’s february, so valentine’s day is coming up, yellowjackets s3 is coming out, and it’s my birthday month!! if you don’t have a valentine yet, consider this your invitation for us to all be each other’s! 💌

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

৻ꪆ shauna spends weeks rehearsing how she’s going to ask you out for valentine’s day. she writes and rewrites little notes, practices lines in her mirror, and almost talks herself out of it half a dozen times because she’s convinced you’ll say no or think it’s silly. even though you’ve given her zero reason to think that.

৻ꪆ she eventually settles on something lowkey but heartfelt: she spends hours preparing her attic room, decorating it with string lights, candles, and little paper hearts she cut out herself. it’s simple but so intimate, so very her. the effort shauna put in is obvious, and she hopes you see that.

৻ꪆ when you arrive, she’s practically buzzing with nerves, immediately giving herself away. she ushers you up the stairs to her room, watching your face carefully as you take in the space: on her bed, there’s a handwritten letter waiting for you, sealed with a little heart sticker. she insists you read it, standing by your side the whole time. as you read, you notice her mouthing the words. she’s memorized every line.

JACKIE TAYLOR

৻ꪆ jackie is not about to settle for a basic valentine’s day ask. i mean, it’s jackie taylor. she doesn’t do things halfway, especially not when it comes to you.

৻ꪆ while you’re in class, she sneaks out to decorate your locker with perfectly arranged hearts and ribbons (color coordinated, obviously). inside, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a handwritten note, and a coupon for ‘one valentines dinner date with jackie taylor’. she delivers the whole thing while casually leaning against the lockers, looking completely unbothered but making sure there’s an audience.

৻ꪆ jackie acts like she’s totally confident (you see right through her from the start), but the second you say yes, that fake composure cracks just a little. she’ll beam at you, maybe brush your hand, and say, “great. pick you up at 7?” on the inside, though, she’s screaming with excitement.

LOTTIE MATTHEWS

৻ꪆ lottie’s approach is definitely gentle and thoughtful!! she decides to ask you out during one of your shared moments of quiet: she invites you over to her house one evening, leading you through the back door to her spacious yard, where twinkling fairy lights are strung between the trees.

৻ꪆ you’re sitting together on a blanket, knees almost touching, when she finally brings it up: “i was thinking,” lottie starts, “i’d really like to spend valentine’s day with you. just us. would that be okay?” shes holding your hands with both of hers, glancing up at you from under her lashes hopefully.

৻ꪆ when you agree, lottie’s face lights up with the softest, happiest smile, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. “i was hoping you’d say yes,” she admits, squeezing your hand before bringing it to her lips for a soft kiss. the rest of the night is spent planning your actual valentine’s date together: nothing too over the top, just something that feels right for the two of you.

NAT SCATORCCIO

৻ꪆ out of all the yellowjackets, nat is the least concerned with valentine’s day…at least, that’s what she tells herself. if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t even think twice about it. but because it’s you, she finds herself secretly stressing over how to ask you out. she wants to do this right. nat spends way too much time trying to come up with the least awkward way to do it, all while telling herself she doesn’t actually care that much. (she totally does)

৻ꪆ after practice, nat catches you outside the locker rooms, leaning against the wall with her hands awkwardly hidden behind her back. “hey,” she says, trying to sound casual. “you doing anything for valentine’s? no? cool. cool, cool, cool. uh- wanna hang out with me? maybe?” it’s simple, direct, and couldn’t be any more nat until she pulls out a slightly crumpled bouquet of roses when you say yes.

৻ꪆ the gesture is so unexpectedly sweet coming from her that you can’t help but grin. before she can fully recover, you lean in and press a quick kiss to her cheek, and nat lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. she stands there for a moment, stunned, before a slow, lopsided smile spreads across her face. “yeah…okay,” she murmurs.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Okay okay so like I absolutely adored your kinktober Logan fic ❤️😭 it was like, perfection!

I was wondering if you could make a sequel with that same reader, it can be anything you want, I just loveee their relationship!!

Love you gator! 💋

Logan Howlett x mutant male reader

Headcanons

This is connected to my kinktober post, which you can read here. I’m starting my internship Monday, getting my license, and listening to nothing but Rammstein. Other than that, I’m chilling, how are yall?

After your little romp in the hay, or should I say woods? The two of you became a thing.

Neither of you ever put a word to what you were, boyfriends, partners, mates? It didn’t really matter. You scented him and he scented you, and by god did you try to mark him, fighting his healing factor with all you had.

The wolf pack accepted your presence, mainly because the whole dynamic thing feral mutants had didn’t matter to them. You didn’t stick around at all times though, since coyotes don’t form packs but are social animals.

But you always like to bring whatever you’ve killed when you do come back. The wolf pack Logan is staying with also casually accept that whatever you bring is for Logan, even if he always shares.

Logan has a feeling that if the wolves could speak, then they would approve of his “mate”, since you singlehandedly chase down anyone threatening their territory and bring back prey, mainly to impress Logan

You’re like a new young alpha trying to prove themselves to the old scarred omega, doing everything in your power to woo Logan even if you already have him. The many shared moments of passion are proof enough.

This also means you’ve taken to guarding the packs territory, as well as your own. Which means that whenever the x-men show up to find Logan, you spot them first.

you get mistaken for Logan for a moment, since they only assumed there would be one guy running around naked in the woods. But your more lithe and much less hairy build makes it clear that you are not Logan.

Good thing Logan had a feeling and was nearby though, as you almost launch yourself at the closest X-men to rip into them for coming to take your partner away.

Logan doesn’t ask you to come back with him, since he knows how comfortable you are out here away from everything. He can’t get himself to demand that, even if he yearns for you to stay.

Luckily for Logan, you would never leave your omega behind, especially when his scent so strongly yearns for you to stay with him. Getting you to wear clothes is a lot more difficult though. In the end you only agree to wear one of logans tank tops which is just long enough to cover the most important bits.

Logan does all the talking, since you two have spent most of your time just grunting and growling to communicate. You do yip though, compared to Logans more guttural noises. You have also perfected that howl scream noise coyotes do, which almost gives Scott a heart attack when you do it out of the blue.

Meeting the rest of the x-men has you on edge for a while, which results in you just kinda walking the perimeter of whatever property they are on, be it the mansion or Krakoa. They still can’t get you to wear clothes, outside of Logans laundry.

Its only when they start smelling like pack that you open up little by little, you even start talking to some of them, but most of that is kept for your lovely omega.

Speaking of feral mutant dynamics, you have a bit of a posturing problem when it comes to Hank. At least, in the beginning. Hes a big, very strong, very smart guy. And hes an alpha. Its very clear though that his secondary dynamic doesn’t matter as much to him, or control him.

But your instincts still want to square up, making you circle his lab every now and then, or give him a couple of nips before you jump back. These are not the same nips you gave Logan when you were flirting, these are more “don’t fuck with me, fellow alpha, and I wont fuck with you”

Hank is a great sport about it and knows its just biology and psychology, and that you will grow more comfortable over time. Like Logan, you will most likely always be close to your feral instincts, but it becomes more manageable with time.

You and Logan still like to spend time away from the x-men, be it to chase each other naked in the woods, or just to cuddle in the shade of a large tree.

Not being able to bring Logan big prey as gifts, you scramble for a while, since your instincts are still wailing that you need to woo him one way or another. Especially when you learn Logan has flirted with, dated, or slept with some of the many attractive mutants around you.

It results in you fighting extra hard during fights, it’s impressive when you somehow rip the head off a sentinel and bring it to Logan, presenting it to him with a puffed out chest and little proud yips. You look like you fought a blender and lost, but you are very proud.

The urges become more manageable with time like it does for Logan, but they are always present. And yeah, Logan and you have weeks off every spring and fall for biological reasons, that may involve getting naked in the woods again.

That, or wherever you guys live need to be soundproofed, something the x-men learn after the first time. But who are they to judge, everyone knows every member of the team are wild in some way.

Logan ends up being the more dominant out of the two of you , mainly because hes stronger and older. He may be an omega, but you have a type, and he fits it perfectly.

You are very much a “whatever you say gorgeous” kind of alpha, even if you want to square down for Logan with any alpha you guys cross. That’s mainly instinct, but Logan still finds himself at least a little charmed at the prospect of being worth fighting over.

He always makes sure you reward you for being such a good alpha to him, which only pavlovs you to do it more, even if it grows more subtle over time.

It just becomes a quirk of yours to be a little extra possessive over Logan, no one really thinks about it after you start actually wearing clothes, talking and joining the team. It’s only something people remember when you two leave to go live in the woods again for some time.

Before it was just logan, but now you go too, in the end its just a normal day for the x-men.

[eitaababe]

Could I request a Jj x reader angst but with a happy ending ? Reader and Jj get into a fight and he says nasty things to her and they don’t speak for days until he sees her at a party where someone is flirting with her and they talk it out ?

TALK IT OUT.

jj maybank x kook! reader.

[ a/n ; this took entirely way too long for me to finish but lol hope you enjoy! ]

—

"JJ?" you called out softly, hearing the familiar onset of knocks at your bedroom window.

You could spot him through the glass– wearing a new bruise on his cheek. Sleepiness long forgotten, you jumped out of bed, quickly opening your window and ushering him in.

"Hey, Princess." He grinned the same toothy smile, as if his left cheek wasn't currently throbbing. Complying with your fussy movements, he sat at the edge of the bed, watching you rummage quietly around for a first aid kit.

You huffed, heading to your bathroom before coming back, the small bag in hand. "Jesus, what happened?" You muttered, more of a hypothetical question than anything else.

"You should see the other guy." He lightly jokes, avoiding the question altogether. It was like this every time– he'd show up, beaten and bruised, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. And you knew it was coming from home, but JJ never let you catch onto more than that.

"JJ." You finally sighed out, tone stern.

"Y/n." He responded, grinning like a fool.

"I'm serious," you huffed. "You gotta tell me what's going on. This- this isn't healthy-"

"What, you want me to stop coming over here? I don't got anywhere else to go!" He scoffed, suddenly defensive.

"I want you to be honest with me!" You pleaded, still sitting at the edge of the bed, looking up as he paced throughout your room. "I know there's something going on at home, and I want to help, JJ-"

"You want me to be honest?" He breathed out, tongue poking at his cheek before he spoke up again. "Alright. Yeah, here's honesty- you live such a perfect life, princess. Nice house, nice family, living on figure 8. And you're what- hanging out with me? Some dirt bag from the cut? You wouldn't get what my life's like- alright? You can't understand."

"But I want to understand," you breathed out, standing and trying to meet his eyes. "If you'd just let me-"

"God, Y/n, I'm not some charity case! What, you gonna call CPS on me? Try and fix me? I'm already fucked up, I get that. But I don't need your fake pity. This- I don't know what you thought this was," he scoffs, each word digging further into your chest like a blade, "But this isn't a relationship, princess. It was just fun, okay? So stop tryin' to get all sappy-feely on me."

You recoiled at his words, going quiet. Your mind raced through all your times together, the pillow talks, late night rendezvous at the beach, or even the small and intimate moments where he'd come over, relying on you to patch him up and inevitably staying the night in your bed.

"Right," you agreed softly, missing the subtle regret on his face. "Sorry."

"Princess-"

"No, no, you're right," you shook your head, breathing out. "It's just casual. I shouldn't have overstepped," you cleared your throat, nodding towards the window. "You should go."

He went quiet, mouth opening and closing as if he tried to think of what to say in response. But he settled for a quick nod, crawling back out the window.

You don't reach out the next couple of days, ignoring JJ's attempts of trying to make small talk. But you'd caught yourself sulking in bed, deciding you needed to make a change. Sarah had coaxed you out of bed, deciding that a party with the kooks would be the best way to let loose.

You had your doubts, but she wouldn't take no for an answer.

So there you stood, next to the bonfire with a beer in hand. The night had been completely uneventful, until you were approached by some other party goer. You knew of the boy, his name has started with an E. Ethan? Evan? You racked your brain, plastering on a polite smile as he greeted you.

"Hey, Y/n," he grinned, nodding your way. "Having fun?"

"Hey, E..." you trailed off, a shy, slightly bashful smile on your face.

"Eden." He finished for you, chuckling. "Where's your bodyguard?"

You furrowed a brow, confused before it clicked. You and JJ always ended up at parties together, many aware of the unofficial official relationship you two had. It was another cruel reminder of his absence, but you pulled yourself out of it.

"Maybank? He's not- we're not really.."

"So you're available?" Eden grinned, his once boyish grin morphing into something that could only cause discomfort. You glanced around, hoping for an outlet out of the conversation.

"Okay, even if I was-" you scoffed, eyes widening when he took a step closer, the alcohol all consuming from his breath.

"Nah, cmon, let's go-"

"Hey, dickwad!"

You'd never been so happy to hear the familiar voice, turning and relaxing at the sight of his messy locks. JJ's arms were immediately on you, wrapping over your shoulder. "Tryin' to steal my girl?"

"Woah, she told me-"

"Get lost," JJ cut him off, grinning and waving him off with a gesture. Once he was out of sight, the blonde turned back to you, expression softening with concern. "You alright, baby? He didn't try anything, did-"

"I'm fine." You muttered, pulling back from his hold. You didn't meet his eye, your cold tone causing his shoulders to droop.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He sighed, looking down at you. He paused, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. "I just- I've never really done anything more than hookups-"

"That's not an excuse-"

"Let me finish, woman," he huffed, pressing a finger over your lips to shut you up, suppressing a grin at the cute pout on your face. "I know it's not an excuse. But I got scared, and I didn't mean it, okay? It's just- you're perfect. You're from this great, rich, and nice family and I'm just- I'm just me. I'm broke, I have a dad who beats me, dirt poor-"

"You don't have to berate yourself so much, it's making me start to feel bad." You grumbled out, looking down at the space between you two.

"So you're sayin' it's working?" He grinned, lowering his head to meet your eyes. As the corners of your mouth quirked up, he pushed further. "Cmon, princess, y'know I'm sorry. Won't happen again."

You huffed at the promise, rolling your eyes. "Promise?"

"Scout's honor." JJ teased, eyes twinkling as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Any cold facade you'd put on melted at that, as you leaned in, head burying into his chest. "Asshole."

"I know." He laughed, playfully tickling your side. "And 'm sorry. Promise I'll talk with you about all that stuff."

"Good," you nodded, smiling softly up at him.

"Great," JJ added, grinning back. "Now can we please go back to the party so we can watch a drunk Kie yell about saving those damn turtles?"

[aerichives]

fwb loser!minjeong

kim minjeong x reader

synopsis. minjeong was just your awkward, inexperienced best friend until one teasing dare led to late-night hookups, stolen touches, and a secret neither of you could ever admit.

genre. friends with benefits, smut

words. 837

note. guess what... ive been writing this on class bcs of an edit on tiktok. im so down bad for winter mmmhmmhmggf

loser!minjeong, the friend who always got teased for having zero game. the one who got flustered just making eye contact with a pretty girl, who would stammer through the simplest interactions while your friends cackled at her misery.

"you wouldn't even know what to do with a girl if she threw herself at you," ningning said once, snickering.

minjeong scowled, ears red, grumbling into her drink. "i— i could if i wanted to."

that only made them laugh harder.

and, honestly? you believed it too. she was cute, pretty eyes, a little awkward, with a charm that made people naturally like her. but inexperience clung to her like a neon sign. she was your friend, your loser of a best friend, and the thought of her doing anything remotely sexual was funny.

until the day you caught her staring.

you had been minding your own business, scrolling through your phone, when you felt it, her eyes, stuck on you like she was in a trance.

it took you a second to register. the way her gaze lingered a little too long on your chest, the slight part of her lips, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

"like what you see?" you teased, snapping her out of it.

minjeong immediately choked. "i— i wasn't—"

you smirked, sitting up straighter, pressing her further just for fun. "if you're that curious, you wanna see what's under?"

you expected her to panic, to shove you playfully and change the subject but she didn’t.

she just sat there. swallowing hard. hands gripping her hoodie strings. not saying no.

something shifted.

"you serious?" you asked, voice dipping lower.

minjeong still didn’t answer, but the way she wet her lips, the nervous flicker in her eyes, it was enough.

and, well… who were you to back down from a challenge?

the first time was messy. minjeong was hesitant, unsure, hands shaking as they trailed over your skin like she was terrified of doing something wrong. but when you pulled her closer, let out the softest sigh against her lips, something in her cracked.

she kissed you deeper, pushed you down against the bed, her inexperience melting into something more raw, more desperate.

and god, the way she touched you. eager, like she needed to learn every inch of you, like she wanted to prove something. she was shy at first, but the second she had you gasping, thighs trembling as her fingers curled just right, she was hooked.

"this good?" she had whispered, watching the way your lips parted, drinking in the way you clenched around her fingers.

"fuck, minjeong… yeah, don’t stop."

her eyes darkened. and she didn’t.

what started as a joke, a dare, turned into something else entirely.

minjeong, who used to be hopeless, was now pressing you into the sheets whenever she wanted, leaving your legs weak and your voice hoarse from moaning her name. she learned quickly. obsessed over it. loved the way you squirmed when she kissed lower, the way you gasped when she buried her face between your thighs.

and somehow, you both agreed. this was nothing serious. just fun. no strings, no complications.

but then came the moment that almost ruined everything.

it was a usual night out with your friends, drinks flowing, laughter bouncing around the table. the topic turned to dating, naturally, and the teasing started again.

"i still can't believe minjeong’s never been with anyone," karina said, shaking their head. "you’d probably freeze up the second a girl took off her shirt."

minjeong, who was mid-sip, nearly choked on her drink.

you didn’t even think. just glanced at her instinctively, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

and that was a mistake.

because they saw it. the look you two exchanged.

the entire table went silent for a split second, before erupting.

"oh my god."

"no way."

"you guys aren’t—?!"

minjeong went rigid, eyes wide, looking at you like a deer in headlights. you, on the other hand, just shrugged, playing it cool, suppressing a laugh at how red her face had gotten.

"as if," you lied smoothly, rolling your eyes. "she’d probably cry if she saw a pair of tits in real life."

minjeong snapped her head toward you, shooting you a betrayed look. but she was too flustered to argue.

your friends weren’t convinced. they whispered amongst themselves, squealing like they had just uncovered the world’s greatest mystery.

and you? you just smirked, brushing your leg against minjeong’s under the table.

she sucked in a sharp breath. you knew exactly what she was thinking.

because if only they knew.

if only they knew how many times minjeong had already had you breathless, begging, shaking beneath her. if only they knew how desperate she got when she touched you, how her name sounded when you whimpered it against her lips.

but they didn’t. and they never would.

so you just sipped your drink, pretending nothing was wrong.

minjeong, on the other hand, was completely losing it.

[milessunflowers]

poly yukierre - maybe driver!reader gets fucked over by red bull and his boyfriends are left to pick up the pieces

- spoon :)

spoon, you genuis. i've got it all figured out already!

yuki tsunoda x male!driver!reader x pierre gasly

synopsis: after dedicating your career to the redbull family, they screw you over. it hurts you a lot, leading to pierre and yuki comforting you and making things better

author's note:

you were devastated. you were promised that seat, checo made sure to advocate for you. they told you time and time again you were getting that seat. they promised you that seat. they lied. they signed liam, even after years of you being with redbull, testing their cars, and being their development driver. you were left utterly hopeless.

you had worked tirelessly for years to get that promise of seat; you spent time helping to make the car perfect, even did mechanics classes so you could be involved in every way shape or form when it came to the car. you showed redbull how dedicated you were to the team, and they still looked right over you. you couldn't blame them fully, not really. liam was remarkable, but you couldn't help to resent him.

that was your seat, not his. well, at least you had thought. the whole time, they planned to sign him anyway. you hadn't talked to anyone, not even yuki and pierre, in a few days. it was concerning, but they understood that you needed space.

you stayed in the guest room in the flat you three shared. most of the time, you were locked in there, sleeping, crying, anything that put your mind away from the seat. they made sure you ate and took care of yourself, even if you couldn't get yourself to talk. they let you take your time, giving you the space you needed to process your thoughts. they didn't want to pressure you and push you further into your self-deprecating hole.

pierre and yuki were absolutely livid with redbull. they knew how much you had been looking forward to racing alongside them, how much you had learned from checo and max, the tips they gave you. not even to mention the countless amounts of hours you spent, helping the team develop their cars and see where things needed to be fixed.

now, you were booted from the team entirely. no seat, not even a reserve driver seat. you were cut from the sport you loved with the snap of a finger.

it hurt your boyfriends to see you like this. you never cut them out for this long. sure, you had some times where you couldn't bring yourself to speak, but you still slept with them and spent time with them. then again, this was an entirely different situation. they had to let you work it out on your own.

it took four whole days before you even came out of the guest bedroom. even then, you wouldn't talk. you just leaned against them, letting them shower you with love and affection. in return, yuki would cook for you, pierre would make you laugh, and at the end of the day, you would be stuck between them in bed. after a week of them doing this, you finally felt up to talking.

"fuck redbull," were the first words you spoke in almost two weeks. yuki and pierre were startled at first but then had large grins on their faces.

"there's our amazing boyfriend," pierre exclaims happily, hugging you tightly and planting a kiss to your hair.

"i missed your voice. pierre was getting annoying," yuki comments, grinning at both you and pierre, who was now wearing a fake hurt expression. "hey!" pierre exclaims, playfully slapping yuki's arm before also giving him a kiss.

"you guys are ridiculous," you tell them, shifting a bit between them. you placed your head in yuki's lap and let your legs stretch across pierre's. "missed you. sorry i kinda just, i don't know-"

"shut it," yuki says, pressing a finger to your mouth. "no apologies. you had every right to take the time you needed. what redbull did was just fucked! i don't blame you. we don't blame you."

"honestly, redbull needs to piss off," pierre agrees, look over at you and yuki. he loved you two, and the look on his face showed. anyone would know that these were his people, the two he loved more than anything, just by the look on his face.

"yeah, they do," you say, nodding your head. you had cried a lot the past few weeks, and now you felt a lot better. "i love you," you tell them, sitting back up to give them each a kiss. "thank you for everything."

pierre and yuki share a look before responding with a synchronized "love you more". that night was spent cuddling and loving on each other, something you wish would never end. no matter how tough things got, you knew that you would always have your boys.

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[mack-writersblock]

Hello! I want Emily X reader.Rossi's sister arrives to help them with a case (she works at the CIA) and Emily begins to appreciate it both flirting and teasing each other and end up succumbing. ..

-Anges

More Than We Bargained For || E. Prentiss

Summary: The BAU get a case that reminds David of an old case of his sister. He called fem!reader in to help with the case, yet she leaves with more than just another solve case under her belt.

cw: one use of Y/N for introduction, reader goes by mother's maiden name, pet names, drinking, first kiss, barely edited.

Word count: 2286

First ask and first Emily fic here on Tumblr, hope you like it!

₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

It wasn’t every day you got a call from your older brother. Sure, sure you two talked, but it was once a month at most. So when your phone rang, the last thing you would have guessed it was, was David Rossi asking you to consult on a case.

“As I live and breathe,” you answered the phone, “David Rossi calling his dear younger sister two days in a row,” you teased and excused yourself from your conversation with one of your coworkers.

“I’d love to say it’s because I missed you but I need your help,” David admitted and you gently shook your head.

“What can I help you with?” You asked, sitting down at your desk.

“We have a case, it reminds me of an old case of yours,” David admitted and you blew air out of your nose.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” you told him, standing up and collecting your things.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You were in the elevator on the way up to David’s floor, you had reviewed the case information David had sent over in the car ride. The doors slid open and you saw David waiting on the other side of them, Aaron Hotchner standing with him.

“Dave,” you smiled, opting to gently push his shoulder instead of hugging him. You turned to look at Aaron. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. Dave talks about you,” you shook his hand before following the two into the bullpen and to the round table. Your eyes traveled the team before you, lingering on a brunette longer than they should have.

“This is my sister, Y/N Moretti,” David introduced you to the team, they went around in introductions before jumping into the case.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Prentiss, I’ve heard about you,” you looked over the brunette, you two being stuck with stake-out duty. “Faking your death is a pretty ballsy move,” you told her, watching her take a drink of her coffee.

“Is that all Rossi told you?” Emily looked over at you.

“You think Dave calls me enough for me to ask about anything but if he’s ok?” You joked, tilting your head back with your soft laugh, missing the tender look Emily gave you. “I get all my information about you through the grapevine of people, it makes it back to us. Especially since Interpol,” you told her, looking back at the house.

“What do you know about me, Moretti?” The teasing lit in her voice making you smile.

“Well, Prentiss, not much. What can you tell me?” You teased back, making her smile. And that’s how you two spent the remainder of the time, talking about yourselves and watching the house.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“There was no movement in or out of the house,” Emily told everyone and you sat down, looking over the files again. Your team joined you once you had confirmed that you would be working on it and they had brought over the old files with them.

“If this is the same guy, there’s no way he would wait this long for another victim,” you mused, focusing on the case files in front of you.

“Why’s that?” Derek asked you and you looked up at him. 

“He might be calculated, but he is compulsive. He was caught the first time because he couldn’t help but attack Sarah Winters when he saw her. He knew she was a cop and that her partner was a shout away, but she was his type. If this is him, there has to be another reason for him not striking again,” you told them.

“We find the reason we find him,” David said and you agreed. “What do you know about Jovan Orlov?” David and the team all sat as you started talking.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Tell me, Prentiss, you got a boyfriend?” You paused a moment. “A girlfriend?” You heard her laugh, not bothering to turn to her.

“Why do you wanna know, Moretti?” She was looking at you but you were more focused on the papers in your hands.

“Just curious, darling,” you responded.

“No, I don’t,” she told you and you nodded. “Do you?”

“Not anymore,” you said in a sing-song-like manner.

“What happened?” You could feel her stare boring into the side of your head.

“Guys tend to think that just because I also like women, I’m automatically open to a threesome with some other women they are attracted to,” you shrugged.

“Are you?” It was a joke and you could hear it.

“Are you offering?” You finally looked at her but cringed back when you saw David standing behind her.

“Are you two working or flirting?” He had a smile on his face and you narrowed her eyes at him.

“Working and flirting,” you told him and he shook his head.

“I knew bringing you here would have odd consequences, just didn’t think you flirting with Prentiss would be one of them.”

“You brought me here and then made me do a stake-out with the one person here who would be my type, try again, David,” you watched him laugh.

“Just more working and less flirting,” he pointed at you.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You and Emily ran after Jovan down an alleyway, you were slightly behind her as you started to run a little after she did. You rounded the corner right after her to see her standing over the unsub with her gun pointed down at him.

“Jovan Orlov, you’re under arrest for the murder of several women,” you walked over to pull him up and put the handcuffs on him. Your brother and the rest of his team rounded the corner and you handed Orlov off. You turned back to Emily as she walked up to you. “Good job, darling,” you told her, watching her smile and slightly turn away. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” You teased her.

“You wish,” she said back.

“You’re right, I do wish,” you responded, walking off as your team made it to the crime scene. Emily watched as you talked with your team, how you stood with your shoulders back and hands on your hips. You stood with confidence and it was obvious you were the person your team looked to for guidance. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at Emily as you made eye contact before looking back at your team.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“So, how’d you like it?” David questioned and you looked at him.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Did you like working here?” He clarified.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just asking,” he told you but you shook your head.

“Sure you are because this has nothing to do with the fact you’ve asked me to join the BAU since the beginning,” you raised an eyebrow.

“Well, at least now I have a better argument instead of just me working here.”

“And what’s that?” 

“Emily Prentiss,” he said her name and you looked him in the eyes with an eyebrow raised.

“Hm, she is a compelling argument,” you smiled.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You sat at the slightly sticky table of the bar watching Emily dance and have fun. You and your team joined the BAU for celebratory drinks after the case, mostly at the insistence of David. You had been slowly nursing the same drink the whole time, watching as everyone else slammed drink after drink. You made eye contact with Emily as she stopped at the bar to get another drink, you smiled at her before you looked away and down at your drink. You downed the last little bit of it before looking up to the roof.

“Here,” Emily placed a cup of water in front of you, making look at her.

“Thanks,” you took a sip of it. “You’re surprisingly coherent for someone who has been drinking all night,” you mused, watching her take a drink from her cup.

“I have a high tolerance,” she shrugged and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Had me fooled, you looked quite intoxicated,” you told her, watching her as she scooted closer and eventually put her hand on your thigh. “Darling, as much as I would love to see where this is going, try again when you’re sober,” you grabbed her hand and led it in yours.

“I am sober, babe,” she tried again but the hold on her hand stopped her from placing it on your thigh.

“You may not be drunk, but you have been drinking and that’s enough of a reason for me to think you aren’t thinking straight,” you placed your interlaced hands on the table as she just looked at you. “Do you want me to take you home?” You watched her nod. “Ok, wait here, I’ll go pay for both of our tabs then come back, ok, Tesoro?” 

“Ok,” she downed the rest of her drink and on your way to the bar, you stopped by your brother.

“Hey, I’m taking Emily home per her request,” you told him.

“Ok,” he nodded and you smiled at him before continuing to the bar.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“You have a nice house,” Emily was standing in your walkway, she insisted you take her to your place and you agreed.

“Thanks, Tesoro, right through here,” you guided her to the kitchen, dimming the lights as you walked in. You grabbed one of the glasses from your cabinet and filled it with water, you handed it over to her. You could tell she was sobering up by the way she wasn’t slightly swaying. “When you asked to come over, did you plan on staying here or did you just not want to go home at that moment?”

“Can I stay?” She sounded hopeful and you nodded.

“I’ll let you wear some of my clothes to bed then,” you took the glass back and placed it in the dishwasher, you could feel her eyes on you. “Are you staring at me, Prentiss?” When you didn’t get an answer, you turned to her and found her leaning against the counter looking ready to pass out. You wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom, sitting her on the bed to grab some extra pajamas you had. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” you directed her to the right door with a point, watching as she walked there.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You could hear Emily get up from the kitchen, the soft padder of her feet making you look up. You smiled at her as you continued to make breakfast, she sat down at the island of your kitchen with a groan.

“Does your house have to be so bright?” She groaned in pain, shielding her eyes from the sun and the lights you had on.

“Sorry, darling, here,” you reached over to dim the lights with a small laugh before returning to making dinner.

“You have dimmers on all your lights?” 

“Yeah, the house came with it,” you told her, placing a plate in front of her. “You watched her take it and the medicine you handed her moments later. “I called Dave, and he said that it was ok for you to be late,” you sat down on the chair next to her.

“What about you?” She looked over at you midbite.

“Oh, I don’t have to be in until 1 pm unless we are actively working on something,” you explained and she nodded.

“I’m jealous,” she went back to eating and you followed her.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Babe,” Emily called from your bedroom as she got ready, you told her you’d take her to work since she didn’t have her car at your house.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You stopped at the door, not wanting to open it just in case.

“Can you help me?” She asked and you opened the door to find her struggling with the buttons of the shirt.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry I forgot to tell you that the buttons are slightly too big for the holes on that shirt, it always shrinks in the wash,” you walked over and pushed her hands out of the way. You did the buttons for her, ignoring how her gentle breaths blew across your face. 

“How expensive is the outfit I’m wearing right now?”

“Not very, unlike my brother I did not write books and become rich, sure I have some money but I also don’t spend it on things like dress shirts,” you told her, removing your hands from the shirt you looked her in the eyes. You watched her eyes dart down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Am I sober enough now?” Emily asked and you sighed, looking over at the wall clock.

“After all my hard work, you’re going to have me unbutton this shirt again?” You joked, leaning closer to her. You brushed your lips against Emily’s before the two of you practically smooshed yourselves against each other. 

“I don’t think we’re going to make it in today,” Emily told you and you laughed.

“Yeah, neither do I,” you reached up to her shirt, and ripped it open. Emily gasped at the action and you smiled extra wide. “I didn’t like the shirt that much anyway,” you shrugged, pulling her closer to you.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Like this story? Here's my masterlist

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Eleven[END]

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the end of this series! The final series in this trilogy, Vaz Prizrak, will take place during Infinity War and Endgame!

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

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

I remember who she was, what she was to me. Hydra kidnapped her years ago and forced me to train her. They wanted her to be the female version of me, another winter soldier. I refused at first and was punished. They strapped me to that chair, burning my mind until I agreed. She was so beautiful, the first time I saw her she took my breath away. 

The way her hair hung past her shoulders or the way she would chew on the left side of her bottom lip when she was nervous for our training sessions. I remember being drawn to the beauty mark right below her right eye, dark and prominent. It looked like a piece of jewelry on her. 

My fingers shook as the tears fell from my eyes, staining the page, while I turned to the next one; Bucky’s written words mending my heart. 

She was always afraid to fight me, I could tell in the way her heart would beat through her chest. I could hear it from my room across the building. I knew when she was asleep by the way her breathing would slow and I knew when she was awake from the soft voice coming from her room, singing a tune I found myself loving. She was the one that made the hell we were in bearable. 

I may have forgotten everything at the hands of Hydra but there was always one thing I remembered; our last night together when we were captured together. 

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, knowing exactly what night he was talking about. 

I remember the way her back arched, chest exposed to the air, when I kissed my way down her stomach to her most prized area. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt my lips on her, savoring the way she tasted; salty with a tinge of sweetness. The feeling of her heels locking me into place, pulling me in closer and deeper. The beautiful sound of her moans was music to my ears; I could still hear it now. She was breathtaking that night and I hope to one day feel herself on me again. 

The night air had done nothing to help my burning cheeks as I read that paragraph a few more times. I had been on my own for a few weeks now, Shuri and T’challa came to visit every once in a while to check on me or give me updates about Bucky. Occasionally, the young kids would come to get a look at the “White Wolf”, a nickname they gave Bucky, but would frown when I would say he wasn’t with me yet. 

Steve sent a few texts every now and then on a burner phone that he had given me. From the few conversations we had, I found out that him, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and Vision were on the run together. He wouldn’t tell me where, obviously, but I always wished him well. 

The fire in front of me warmed my feet, keeping the night air from making me shiver, and I turned my attention back to Bucky’s journal. 

She’s sitting across from me right now, reading a book, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Her lip is sucked between her teeth as she’s reading, the words unfamiliar to her. She wanted to learn Romanian. Her eyes are so bright, the color bringing a sense of familiarity to me. Everytime she looks at me, I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until my last breath. The sun from outside had casted a warm glow around her like an angel. My Dorogaya. 

I can’t find the right words to say it to her face but I love her; always had. Even though Hydra made her into something she has no control over, she doesn’t let it bother her. She focuses on helping me heal that she forgets she needs to heal herself. We made a promise that life on the run wouldn’t be permanent. I don’t care, I’d go anywhere with her. 

A quick lick of my finger, the page turned easily between them. 

She told me about her past with Steve. This unfamiliar feeling burned inside when she talked about how close they were. She claimed that Steve and I used to be best friends but I don’t remember. All I can remember is her. 

The date on the last passage made my breath catch in my throat; the night before everything changed. 

She was attacked at work tonight. I tried to talk to her about it but her powers took over. I never wanted this life for her, she doesn't deserve this life. She deserves everything good in the world so I sometimes wonder if I’m enough for her. I love her with every single feeling inside of me but I can’t find it in my heart to tell her. The words burn on my tongue, wanting to scream it at her but nothing comes out. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have with her before she realizes that I can’t move past everything that happened to me. I’m trying, for her, but the screams are too much. I promised that I would take care of her, give her everything she deserves, but I’m afraid that she’ll walk away. I can’t lose her, I love her so fucking much. 

Feeling sad that I had finished reading the journal, I closed it with a loud sigh. It was full of memories of us and knowing that Bucky remembered all of that made me fall more in love with him. He loved me all this time and knew that I was the one for him, he was just afraid that I would leave him for taking too long. 

Never in a million years. 

“Rogers, leave Natasha alone! That’s her pile of food!” 

I chased around one of the goats before letting out a frustrated groan. It had been a few months now of my new life in Wakanda and to ease the loneliness I not only took up gardening like Steve had mentioned, I also decided to raise some goats. 

Bad decision. 

They kept me on my toes every single day, hence why I named them after Steve and Nat, but I had to admit that it gave me a reason to get up every day. 

Shuri continued to visit after her sessions with Bucky, saying that he was doing well. She wanted to be careful in removing the words from his mind. Hydra had done a number on his brain and even if she could remove the words, he would still have to deal with the mental thoughts of exactly what happened in his past. 

“You know,” Shuri said one day, “I saw a lot of memories involving you.” 

I went red with embarrassment. “You did?” 

She nodded. “He loves you very much. I think the thought of you is what’s keeping him alive. He’s dreaming peacefully now.” 

I raised my shoulders in confusion. “Then when will he wake up?” 

“I don’t know. Wherever he is ready,” Shuri admitted with a sigh. 

The sun had begun to set so after a long time trying to wrangle the goats into their pen for the night, I was ready to turn in myself another night of sleeping alone. 

“Dorogaya?” 

My heels spun around with a flash at the familiar name. Standing in front of me was a very refreshed and relaxed looking man. His missing arm was covered with a sling of fabric. The soft breeze had wrapped around us, blowing his hair away from his eyes that shined with the familiar light I missed so much. 

“Bucky?” I asked, words trembling. 

I was afraid this was another dream I was having. 

“I missed you,” he breathed while breaking out into a huge grin. 

The bottom of my feet sped through the tall grass towards him and even with one arm, he had caught me with ease. Our lips danced for the first time in months but they never missed a beat. It was a teeth smacking, tongue dancing, kiss that fueled the fire deep within and the pleasure I felt from the both of us was almost too much to handle. 

Reluctantly I pulled away but pinched his cheeks, just to make sure he was real. 

“Ow,” he hissed. “What was that for?” 

My smile reached my eyes, I was so happy. 

“Just making sure it’s really you.” 

He gave me another kiss. “I missed you.” 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, smelling the familiar scent; teakwood and mint. 

“I missed you too.” I admitted with a long sigh. 

Still in his grasp, he looked around our little home with a proud smile. “You’ve made a nice home for yourself.” 

Immediately I shook my head to correct him. “For us.” 

We shared another passionate kiss and I could feel his feet move, walking us towards our hut. 

“Show me around then, doll,” he hinted with a sly smirk. 

For the first time in a very long time, Bucky and I laid tangled together in a mess of sweaty flesh and knotted sheets. Everything was perfect again and I was going to hold on tight to him. Nothing would come between us. We would finally be able to start our lives together. 

My Soldat and his Dorogaya.