#god i'm sorry for taking so long life just

[zepskies]

All righty, here we go, diving into more of the angsty love triangle!! *rubs hands together* 😈

However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Oooh my God, poor Dean. 🫣 This is literally torture for him! lol

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you.

I had a feeling this was why he insisted on her living in the room next to his, our big protective man, but now it's coming back to bite him in the ass. 💀

He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

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

Sobbbiiiiiingggg -- oh Dean. 😭😭

It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

God Dean! You can only bury your emotions under assholery and anger for so long. He can hate the fact that she's a hunter and want more for her, but he has to accept that it's her choice, and he can support her and be honest with her rather than succumbing to his assholery. 🥲🥲

But of course, his "I'm not worthy" mentality crops up as well. 🙃 Makes you want to throttle him (if in more than one way lmao)!!

The thought that he was suffering so much while trying to find her when she was in another world is also heartbreakingly on-brand for him. He'd so be tearing through every piece of lore and resource to try and get her back. 😭

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother. Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

💀💀💀 Come on now, Dean, don't be petty. 🤣

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

TELL HIM, SAM. SHAKE HIM UNTIL HIS GREEN EYES ROLL INTO HIS HEAD -- make him see how he's acting!! lol

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

Gahhh pain. so very pain, even though it hurts so good. 😭😭😭

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

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

Omggg finally!! Finally Dean's being honest about how he feels without being a dick about it. 😪

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

Ughhh such soul-rendering description, and the spice here is oh so delicious. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

But I have to point out that the reading is having a DAY loll. Two beefcakes in one night?? 😏

(Also, I'm afraid of how Ben is gonna take this. 😬)

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

Oh sure, pretend she meant nothing to you to spare your deep-down man feelings. 🙄

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

LMAOO Ben vs. Technology -- I think we all know who's winning. 🤣

And Ben secretly liking therapy just so he just has someone to vent to for an hour? Be still my heart, honestly. 😭

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

OMGGGGG I'M WEEAAAAK -- and he's already clocking IT girl's cuteness, I'm dead. 😂💞 The way he's already starting to like her better? I see what you did there. 😉

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

ahaha you charmer, you. 😂 A swoon-worthy line, even if we do know how sleazy this man can be lol. She really has no idea what she's getting into with this guy, but I love to imagine that with this nicely wrapped up ending! 💕💕

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

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part Four (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Every action has a consequence.

Words: 1540

Warnings: Arguments, talks of death, canon death, language?

A/N: I'm alive. I haven't forgotten this. I also have Covid so forgive me. K, thanks!

-X-

Agatha’s feet carried her forward, through endless expanse as she searched for Nicky before—

Two small, thin arms wrapped around her, his head pressing against her stomach as he barreled into her. “Mama!” his voice cracked, burrowing deeper into her grasp.

Breath catching painfully in her chest, Agatha sunk to her knees, gathering him into her arms and just… holding him, silent tears streaming down her face. He smelled just like she remembered—of earth and rain and everything good in her world. Everything good she’d ever done.

-X-

Trembling hands caressed your face, wiping away sweat and tears as your breathing grew shallow, lips paling.

“W-what’s happening?” Teen asked nervously, flinching at Rio’s cold, unwavering glare.

“Which part? The part where you shouldn’t exist right now and neither should this godforsaken Road? How your powers just sent (Y/N) and Agatha into the realm of the afterlife because you can’t control your abilities? Or the part where—” Rio choked on her words, staring down at your unmoving body, “—Life is dying?”

Teen’s jaw dipped open, eyes wide with horror. “W-what?”

The other witches took a step back, sensing the brewing storm within Rio, eyes flickering between the boy and the scene before them.

“You, Teen, are Billy Maximoff. Son of the Scarlet Witch and the creator of the Witch’s Road. Congratulations, you’ve turned a con into a reality and in doing so, have damned Life to die because you briefly gave Agatha Harkness enough power to drag my other half into the fucking afterlife!” her words were sharp, cracking around the edges. “The living can’t come back from the afterlife! In letting Agatha have exactly what she wanted, Life made a choice… and she…”

Shaking fingers drifted along your cheeks.

“God, why did you do it?” she asked your still form. “You idiot. You stupid, wonderful, selfless idiot.”

“Wait, wait, hold up. (Y/N) is Life?” Jenn repeated, her eyes jumping between you and Rio. “So does that make you—”

“Death,�� Lilia finished, though it wasn’t a question.

Tilting her head slightly, Rio’s eyes never left you. “Ding, ding, ding. Thank you for playing, witches. So, unless anyone has any useful ideas right this second, I need you all to shut the hell up while I think.”

For once…

The Road was silent.

And Rio had no ideas of how to solve this fucking mess.

-X-

Staggering towards Agatha and Nicky, you forced your body to keep moving, even as the afterlife demanded more from you the longer Agatha remained. Seeing her clinging to Nicky tugged at your heart and you hated yourself for what you were about to do. Dragging her away.

“Mommy!” Nicky gasped, peering over Agatha’s shoulder at you, his excitement fading into worry. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”

Stiffening slightly, Agatha glanced over her shoulder at you, eyes widening at the blackening veins pulsing on your face, the paleness of your lips, the shadows nipping at your heels…

“Hey, baby,” you rasped, collapsing beside Agatha and gently combing your fingers through his long hair. “I uh… I’m okay. I have to take Mama home though. I’m sorry, we can’t stay.”

Nicky’s expression dropped but he nodded. “I know. It’s not Mama’s time.”

Reaching up, his small hand touched your cheek, knowing something’s wrong even if he can’t understand it. His other hand touched Agatha’s.

“Please stop fighting,” he whispered to Agatha, holding her gaze. “It wasn’t their fault. Someday, we’ll be a family. All of us. You and Mommy and Mami… we’ll all be happy again.”

Maybe it’s the light shining in his eyes or the actual health keeping his face colored or maybe it’s the confidence in his voice but something—even if she didn’t want to admit it—began to warm in her chest, regret flooding into her eyes as she really took you in. How sick you suddenly seemed. The way you were panting, despite not needing air. The way your glow seemed…

Dim.

Smiling softly—in pain, in heartbreak—you grabbed Agatha’s hand and tangled your fingers together before closing your eyes, yanking both of you back into your bodies before she could try and stop you.

Then…

There was only darkness.

-X-

Agatha awoke with a gasp, sitting upright abruptly. The Road. She was on the Road again—lying in the wet mud—but…

Glancing around, she saw everyone surrounding… something.

“And here I thought this coven would be happy to know I’m fine,” she half-joked, staggering to her feet and wandering over to group, almost offended by the lack of reaction. “Really feeling the sisterhood here.”

Before she could even reach the circle, Rio’s hand was wrapped around her neck, shoving her into a tree. Scathing remarks on the tip of her tongue, she froze at the look of absolute fury on Rio’s face. Of all the things she’d said and done over the centuries, she’d never been on the receiving end of this expression…

This hatred.

“Agatha Harkness, you selfish, thoughtless woman! Hate me all you want but she—” Rio choked on her words, emotion swimming so deeply in her eyes that it nearly stole Agatha’s breath. “—she always saw the best in you. Forgave you for whatever you said; whatever you did. But this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What fucking mess you’ve caused? No, because you don’t ever think about anyone other than yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” Agatha choked out, fingers wrapping around Rio’s wrist in an attempt to loosen her grip.

Dragging her by her throat over to your body, Rio snarled, “Look!”

There, motionless on the ground, you lied. Pale in the moonlight of the Road, eyes fluttering, chest barely rising—

You looked like a damn corpse, something Agatha never once expected to see. You, so full of energy and life, snuffed out like a candle in a windstorm, only embers remaining where your flames once burned. Your fingers twitched, as if reaching out for something unseen but too weak to find.

“Nothing living can return from the afterlife. It demands a price, a price, for any mortal that passes through—and she fucking paid yours.” Rio’s lip trembled, staring at the dying body of her counterpart.

Her perfect other half.

For the first time in her existence, Agatha Harkness was struck speechless. You, who always stood by her side even when she screamed and raged and hated… you, who vowed to love her even as Agatha scorched the earth around her… you who could’ve left her to the afterlife…

“(Y/N),” she breathed, dropping to her knees beside you, a trembling hand reaching out to touch your face, only to be caught by Rio and yanked away, nearly knocked backwards onto her ass.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” she hissed, carefully lifting your body into her arms to cradle you to her chest. Feeling the way your heartbeat was waning beneath her palm. Sluggish. Barely beating. “You’ve done enough.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but no words came. There was nothing she could say. For once, the woman who had spoken her way into and out of every situation imaginable—who always found an angle to tip the scales in her favor—was utterly, horrifyingly speechless. For all her dark knowledge… she was completely unprepared.

A broken, strangled sound escaped her lips, and she moved again, reaching for you instinctively. “Rio, please—”

“No,” Rio spat, pulling you tighter against her chest. Her arms curled around you as if shielding you from the very woman who had caused this, her visage flickering for a split second. An unspoken warning. “You don’t get to ask anything of me. Of her. Not anymore.”

Agatha recoiled like she’d been struck, breath hitching sharply in her throat. She wanted to argue, to lash out, to fix this—but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the first time, she actually felt how powerless she really was.

"Please, baby," Rio whispered, this time directed at you. At the barely-there rise and fall of your chest. "Stay with me. Don’t leave me; I can’t do this without you."

But even as she begged, even as she reached for something unseen, something that was already slipping between her fingers, trying to call upon something—anything, the truth sat heavy in the air.

You were dying.

And there wasn’t a damn thing Death could do to stop it.

Jenn took a step forward, hesitant. “There has to be something we can do.” Her voice wavered, but there was determination in her eyes, staring at your still body. “Life isn’t a mortal, so that means the afterlife can’t just… take her.”

Rio let out a bitter laugh, low and humorless. “Oh, sure. Go ahead, Jenn. If you have a way to defy the fundamental laws of existence and the cosmos and the afterlife I’ve cultivated for millennia, be my guest. Clearly a bunch of half-assed witches know more than an actual cosmic entity.”

Jenn bristled but she kept quiet, knowing this wasn’t just anger—this was unadulterated grief. The panic of not being able to stop what felt inevitable.

And if they didn’t hurry…

There would be no life left to save.

[featjunranghae]

Fatherhood - Lee Jeno

warning: none in this part. might get suggestive later

summary: when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much

single dad jeno was only 20 when he got his then girlfriend pregnant. the entirety of the pregnancy they were together. planning their future with their little angel. but that all changed after his daughter jiwoo was born. his girlfriend wasn't being her usual self for months. he took it as postpartum depression. but one night she just packed her bags.

"I can't do this anymore."

jeno was confused. everything seemed to be going okay. he tried reasoning, tried making her stay. but her only answer was. "keep jiwoo. if I take her she might end up in an adoption."

that night changed everything for jeno. how could he do this alone? but he had to manage. begged his parents to babysit his daughter at day time so he could go to uni and could take extra jobs just to make ends meet. he was devastated. and it was hard going back to normal.

but slowly with time he healed a bit. he needed to heal for his daughter. and for her he'd move mountains. but some days it got exhausting. he just wanted to give up. he was too tired.

it was one of those days. he just finished his finals. he hadn't eaten anything since dinner last night and it was 4pm. he had to take jiwoo for her monthly check up and was on the way back home. and for some reason she wouldn't stop crying. he tried everything. singing, giving her chocolate, toys, YouTube but nothing was working.

he apologized to everyone as he got on the bus. no one liked a crying baby. while some offered him sympathetic smile, for others, the annoyance was clear on their faces. he put his bag down on the seat beside him.

"c'mon baby girl..." he muttered rocking her. "help daddy..." he tried feeding her the bottle but she fussily pushed it away. her wails turned to screeches and jeno felt himself tearing up. could this day get any fucking worse. "baby please-"

"let me help you."

it was like the voice was sent from god himself as jeno looked up at you. your eyes full of understanding as you slowly put his bag down on the ground and sat beside him. "I can hold her if you don't mind."

jeno should question before just handing his daughter out to anyone. but he didn't. he couldn't. he just needed her to stop. so he handed you jiwoo. he watched as you slowly patted her back putting her against your chest.

"it's okay... you're okay..." you hummed and it was like miracle to jeno. jiwoo stopped crying. the wails turned to sniffles. she slowly buried her face in your chest eyes slowly fluttering shut.

"are you a magician?" he asked before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry-"

"I spent all my highschool babysitting." you smiled rubbing your hand on jiwoos back. jeno didn't even know what to say as he stared at his little girl in your arms. "you don't look okay..."

"I'm not... I just.... my baby... she's... I.." he tried thinking of what to say without breaking down. "I just had a long day... I had exams... and work I... I'm so exhausted."

"it's okay to be exhausted-" you waited for his name.

"jeno."

"it's okay to be exhausted Jeno. you're doing such a great job. taking care of a baby isn't an easy job." you whispered to him and that was it. jeno found tearing up.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

"it's okay... let it out." he didn't even know your name and here he was. crying beside you while you held his daughter. he wiped his eyes.

"it's so hard being a father... it's so hard... everything is hard... I just want to quit." he cried wiping his face.

"it is hard. going to uni and taking care of your daughter... but you're doing a great job." you whispered slowly moving one hand to pat his shoulder.

"I'm sorry... you must think I'm some loser crying in the bus-"

"I think you're a dad trying his best." jeno looked up at you then back at his daughter. "I'm yn, by the way. what's this princess's name?"

"jiwoo."

"how old is she?"

"she just turned 2." he said wiping her drool that was about to fall on your shirt. "I'm sorry- I'll take her-"

"I can hold her up until you get off the bus, if that's okay." you offered. he nodded slowly. he needed this. "you mentioned exams... you're in uni?"

"last year." he told you and he saw your eyes widen.

"me too. which major?" you asked hands still rocking jiwoo.

"applied physics."

"damn." you whispered. "must be hard... never understood a word of physics like my whole life."

he found himself smiling at your words. "which major are you in?"

"psychology."

that explains.

the rest of the ride was quiet. it was jeno's stop. he slowly took jiwoo out of your arms. "thank you so much yn... I don't know what I would've done without you today."

"it's okay." you smiled back grabbing your bag. "do you live in 7th streets as well?" Jeno nodded. "the world is so small. I live on 7th street as well. the building beside the convenience store."

"I live on the one opposite to it." he told you as you both got off. no words were shared as you as you reached in front of your building.

"I'll be off then..." you smiled before cooing at jiwoo. "such a lovely girl." you slowly poked her chubby cheeks watching her snuggle even closer to her dad.

"she was anything but lovely today." he chuckled looking down at his daughter with so much adoration. "she's usually calmer I promise."

"I'll take your words for it big guy." you said before waving one last time and walking off. jeno stood there for a while watching you leave. something in his heart told him this wouldn't be the last time you two meet.

NCT MASTERLIST

[bnyf]

fawn over you ♡

yandere hunter x fawn hybrid reader

warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic

authoress note : first post :3 lowkey inspired by 'my sweet bunny cage' manga and i'm planning on making a bunny hybrid one too

his heart almost imploded and gave out upon sighting such a delicate, dainty fawn such as yourself.

little ole you had him in a rhapsodic trance, him whom's nature greatly differed from hers (you).

he, a mere man who's psychological disturbances causes him to hunt and kill. and you, a lovely creature who now gained the attention of a brute man who's main objective was to capture and claim.

the pattern on your skin like pearls, little dots trailing you. so perfect, almost impossible yet here you were.

it didn't help that by the beautiful white lily of the valley flowers surrounded you, like it was a symbol of how fucking perfect and graceful you are. you were ethereal. an angel or a goddess.

and god, those beautiful glassy orbs peaking his way held nothing but the universe and more in them. so innocent. the epitome of pretty and perfect.

he's sorry you had to meet him of all people, someone who'd ruin and corrupt you but he'd also worship you, others may do much worse to you anyway.

his movements were so still that you'd only notice him due to your instinctive feeling of being watched. your tailed and ears twitched.

you shivered, feeling bare and open to such preying eyes with selfish intent behind them.

his eyes held such a mad and malicious look, as if he were some sort of barbaric mad lad. he looks honcho and quite the opposite of you whom had a much smaller and soft physique.

his whole aura wrecked of death, he is, without a doubt, a true blood lusting predator's, a troubled psychopathy who needed to take his frustrations out on poor, unsuspecting creatures.

with that in mind, and thanks to your nimble agility and speed, you darted off before he could even approach you from the shades of the trees only 10 feet away from you.

he'd only chuckle to himself, engulfed by your beauty and elegance, and more than intrigued by the pretty, little doe-eyed fawn hybrid he just had the pleasure to encounter.

sure. you're quick witted. but being quick only gets you tangled up in a trap quicker.

and with that, his infatuation steadily mounts. he immediately started littering the leafy forest grounds in traps ever since that faithful encounter.

you've taken extra precaution after that day, hiding far away from his cabin and even further from that specific meeting sight.

like a lethal game of hide n seek, you both played your parts. and just like that, you started feeling more unsafe and uneasy knowing that he'd set up traps and cameras, watching your every move, both during the day and night.

sure. he had a life outside of this secluded forest he loves visiting. which is the only thing really giving you time to run and hide.

his work life was distressing as a lawyer, it was a very mentally, emotionally and sometimes psychically taxing line of work.

but that don't mean much considering whenever he got time or a day off, whether late night or not, he'd clear out an entire section of the forest with traps and cameras.

and eventually, you run out of both stamina and luck. you become dreary and tired, exhausted from fearing for your life. and your little stalker becomes impatient.

your little game of cat and mice becomes long over due, and sooner or later, you find yourself injured and trapped in enemy's territory.

it only takes 12 hours for him to finally come off work and whatever other things he may be preoccupied with in his life to come get you.

mean time, you kept your wound clean by licking it, fearing what he'll do to you once he gets there.

and boy oh boy, were you shivering when you'd hear the sound of twigs cracking under heavy boots approaching in the darkness of the light midnight. he's here.

you already cried a lot from the pain and realization of your situation but that didn't stop you from repeating the whole process again.

tears already brimming at your swollen, red eyes. the light from his flashlight becoming brighter as he gets nearer, near enough to shine the light directly at you, in your eyes and blinding you from seeing him.

yet he could quite clearly see you, those teary innocent eyes, your wound. every detail up close right in front of him as you lay right in his trap. looking at you with a sinister smile which you cannot see, leaving you guessing what smug facial expression he must have right now.

he let out a feral, maniac laugh.

"my little fawn, you're finally mine."

you had no where to run or hide anymore. grasping onto what little sanity you have now and praying for whatever great deity above to have mercy upon your innocent soul.

what awaited you next was a life of constant torment. the tears run off your chubby soft cheeks, colliding with your skin and the snot in your runny nose made the whole ordeal pathetic and shameful for you.

but to him? it was such an exquisite show! to him... that disgusting crying face of yours was nothing short of adorable.

he grabbed you away, kidnapping you from your carefree life of freedom. the last thing you felt was a prickling sting on your neck before you were enticed with an unknown sleeping drug that took effect instantly.

all the stress and negative emotions that were building up inside subsided as you were knocked out cold, remembering only his footsteps as he carried you to your new home...

the rest of your days were all a painful blur, you were cared for yes but you'd now have shackles placed on your ankles, a big enough cage and a collar. forced to comply to whatever rules he'd put in place for you. punished when disobeyed those rules. dressed to his liking, feed like a child and forced to learn tricks for his entertainment.

for lack of better words, you've been reduced to a pet.

his pet

your leg wound was still healing, which made escaping difficult. worse yet, his home in the city was large and difficult to navigate, with a built in security system that is literally impossible for anyone to get in or out without permission.

"shhhh don't be so scared, you're safe with me, my little fawn," he'd coax, all while keeping you sedated and locked up. you don't know why but for some reason he'd smell strange but also strangely good at the same time. you'd feel a bit oozy when around him, and inhaling his scent was addictive.

that's because his cologne is laced with pheromones and a special drug to get you addicted off him.

but you didn't know that, and you didn't need to know that. your innocent self blamed yourself for becoming addicted to him. he only smiled and hugged you, because he knows you can't think straight every time he's near.

keep this up and he might just send you into heat a little too early. not! that it's a bad thing for him, not that he wouldn't like that of course.

you hated every bit of this. hated him for making you into his glorified object rather than a living being, a person with thoughts and feelings.

but oooohhhh how he loved every second of it, loved dressing you up in all sorts of cute clothing like some little doll, loved pulling your collar when you misbehaved, and absolutely adored watching you get high off him.

the way your nose twitched, and your little tail sweep from side to side, that look you give him cause you're thinking this is all your fault when it's absolutely not.

[santapacman]

I'm a candle. The only other things like me in the house are the logs in the fireplace. They burn brighter than I do, but they never last as long. I tried talking to one of them once while it sat beside the hearth. It was a smaller piece of wood, more of a stick than a log. "You! Little one! Have you ever been on fire?" I called from my windowsill. "Never." The poor thing was clearly terrified. "It's warm. All your pain and sadness simply melt away." "Before they brought me here, I had a view through the window. Fire is gentle for you, but it will engulf me and reduce me to ash. It looks torturous." "But you burn so bright! What if instead of torture, you're headed for bliss?" "So it truly doesn't hurt you? You burn down, you're half the height you used to be, but there's no ash. You just disappear." "How could something so short-lived as you know anything of my past?" "Short-lived? I've been on the tree just outside the window for five years, and I've seen hundreds of candles sitting in your tray. Burning their lives away. Taking their time. I felt sorry for them." Rich of this stick to feel sorry for me, who would outlive it by days. Who had DAYS of happiness ahead of me. Who would be just fine for DAYS. I could only stare in disbelief. The paltry, deceitful stick spoke up again. "I'm relieved that burning is not agony for you. If we were the same in that, your life would be hell." The flame god entered the room and crouched down to the fireplace before I could reply. He snapped the stick in two, then into four. It screamed. He used its body to start the fire. It was gone in minutes.

[cakepoppresent]

You Lead I Follow

Veronica: There's two stores I plan on going to today. Are you ready?

Vaghun: Like I said Princess I'm ready to do anything for you today

Veronica: Do you remember when you were chasing after me the first time? All those items you left in my dorm room?

Vaghun: Of course. You still have all those things I bought?

Veronica: Don’t ask stupid questions. How much did you spend on them?

Vaghun: Around 12k give or take. Nothing too crazy

Veronica: Is that right?

Vaghun: No price is too much when it comes to you

Veronica: God. You’re so cringe. Just keep quiet

Veronica: Your name? Since you’re standing will you be assisting today?

Natasha: I'm Natasha and that’s right. Mr. Leary called ahead of time and set up a private room for you to shop comfortably

Veronica: Perfect. I’ve already seen a pair of Hermes slippers and a clutch that I’d like to add to my tab. If you could set those aside for me that would be great. I'll be adding more shortly

Natasha: That won’t be a problem, Miss Reeves. I can also set up some wine and an excellent charcuterie board for you.

Veronica: That sounds wonderful. Make sure its your most expensive bottle, the whole bottle

Vaghun: Understood.

Veronica: You’re so sweet. Thank you

Veronica: Now back to you Lover Boy. I hope you’re ready

Vaghun: When it comes to you I’m always ready and I notice everything

Veronica: Lets put that to the test. I changed something about myself. Real subtle can you guess what it is?

Vaghun: You changed your hair color...its darker now. I like it

Veronica: You observant freak how could you even notice something like that. Not even my mom noticed

Vaghun: I’m serious when I say you’re important to me. You are...everything

Veronica: I don’t want to hear that right now. Lets go, its time to run your pockets

Vaghun: Of course. You lead I follow~

Veronica: That’s what I like to hear

Vaghun: Tried on enough shoes Princess?

Veronica: Lucky for you I have. I’ll take all these boots...one in each color

Vaghun: I’ll get them to send these over to your apartment

Veronica: Im still hungry. Lets get something to eat after this

Vaghun: No problem

Vaghun: Veronica

Veronica: My first name? You must want to talk about something serious

Vaghun: I wanted to clear the air. We haven’t spoken about what happened

Veronica: I don’t think I’m ready to have this talk with you....or ever

Vaghun: Just humor me Princess

I’m sorry. I know those words mean nothing to you after hearing them all these times. The only way I can show you how much you mean to me is through patience, through actions that prove my sincerity. But I need you to know that I love you. I’ve loved you long before I confessed to you on that rooftop. Do you remember? You were talking about taking my Grams out shopping and I stood there wondering how a woman like yourself was so entwined in my life. I couldn’t believe my pestering got you as close to me as it did, I know I’m a man that doesn’t deserve you. But knowing that won’t stop me from trying. I have to try. Because losing you isn’t something I can bear

Veronica: You always had a way with words

Vaghun: Hahaha I could fill a whole library with how I feel about you Princess

Veronica: Is it a massive library?

Vaghun: The biggest one. I know you aren’t the type to be emotional I don’t expect you to say anything but I just want you to know. I’m ready and willing to wait

[vandme12]

I'm so sorry you got a NSFW asked in your inbox from someone, So I'm here to give ya a completely Different prompt-to make up for the random NSFW prompt.

Prompt: Ronin popping in at random into visit his darling, expecting to take them out on a bloody date he's got in mind, only to find them watching a marathon of Puppybowls as serious as can be- as in cheering for their favorite puppy when they score, laughing at the puns, wearing either something blue or orange. That sort of thing. I would love to see what his reaction to this whole thing would be and if he joins in lol.

Thank you so much!

Bloody Plans and Puppy

Ronin had a plan.

A perfect, beautiful, bloody plan.

He had it all mapped out—sweep you off your feet, drag you into the night, and paint the town red. Maybe he’d take you to a nice rooftop where you could watch some poor bastard’s final moments together, or maybe he’d let you pick the target this time. Romantic, right?

Except—when he strolled into your apartment, all smug confidence and sharp edges—

You didn’t even notice.

No, you were too busy cheering.

For puppies.

Ronin stopped dead in his tracks, blinking at the scene before him like it was some bizarre hallucination. You, curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes glued to the TV like it was the most intense thriller of the decade. Except instead of murder or mayhem—

It was a goddamn Puppy Bowl.

On screen, tiny, clumsy puppies in blue and orange bandanas were tumbling over each other, chasing around a mini football. The announcers were going wild, spewing dog-related puns at a machine-gun pace, and you—

You were into it.

Like, genuinely, seriously into it.

Ronin watched as you fist-pumped the air when a golden retriever pup barrelled into the end zone.

"YEAH! GO TEAM FLUFF!"

He blinked again. Slowly.

What. The. Hell.

"Babe." His voice was smooth, easy, as he strolled further inside, finally making his presence known.

You didn't even look away.

"Hey, Ronin," you said, voice distracted as your eyes flicked across the screen, laser-focused.

He raised a brow, waiting for you to acknowledge him properly, but instead, you just grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in your mouth, nodding at the TV like some grizzled sports veteran analyzing the game.

"God, that Pomeranian's got no game sense," you muttered.

Ronin's lips twitched. Was this real?

"You're kidding me, right?" He flopped onto the couch next to you, propping his feet up, smirking. "You're skipping out on my very romantic murder plans for… this?"

You threw him a brief glance. "It's the Puppy Bowl."

"Right, and I'm the Pope. Babe, what the hell is a Puppy Bowl?"

You gasped like he just stabbed you in the heart.

"Oh my god, you don’t know??"

Ronin’s smirk widened. "Would I be askin’ if I did?"

You turned to him fully now, eyes wide with shock, hands gripping his jacket like you were about to tell him the meaning of life itself.

"It’s only the greatest event of the year."

He snorted. "Yeah? Thought that was our anniversary."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t let go of his jacket. "It’s a big, adorable football game where puppies ‘compete’ for the Lombarky Trophy."

Lombarky.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Ronin blinked at you, expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause—

"You are… way too invested in this."

"And you are way too NOT invested!" You pointed aggressively at the screen. "Look at them. Look at their little tails! Their tiny, stubby legs! Their over-the-top replays!"

Just as you said it, the slow-mo cam caught a Labrador puppy tripping over its own paws and face-planting straight into the goal line. The dramatic replay made it look ten times funnier than it should have.

Ronin stared.

Then—he actually snorted.

You gasped. "See? SEE? You’re enjoying it!"

"That was one laugh." He smirked, but the way his eyes flicked back to the screen? Yeah, he was already hooked and didn’t even know it yet.

You grinned and grabbed his arm, pulling him in closer. "C’mon. Stay and watch with me."

"Babe, we had a date planned."

"Puppies first. Murder later."

His grin widened. "You’re lucky I love ya."

"Damn right."

Five minutes later, he was into it.

Like, way too into it.

"GO, YOU LITTLE FURRY BASTARD! GO!" Ronin shouted at the TV, gripping the armrest with white-knuckled intensity.

You cackled beside him as he leaned forward, eyes dead serious, watching a tiny dachshund sprint toward the end zone with all the power of an Olympian.

"If this pup doesn’t score, I’m personally takin’ out whoever rigged this game," he growled, narrowing his eyes.

"It’s not rigged!" you laughed.

"That Pomeranian’s been hoggin’ the damn ball all game. It’s clearly a setup."

You buried your face in your hands, laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

Ronin, meanwhile, looked like he was watching the Super Bowl. He was all in. When a tiny beagle got distracted mid-play and just started rolling around on the field, he let out a long, suffering sigh.

"No discipline. No strategy. This team’s a joke."

You nudged him. "They’re literally puppies."

"AND? If you’re gonna play, play to win."

"Oh my god."

And then—it happened.

The dachshund—Ronin’s guy—made a break for it, zooming across the field, dodging bigger puppies left and right. The announcers were going wild.

"LOOK AT THOSE LITTLE LEGS GO!"

"UNSTOPPABLE! A TRUE UNDERDOG STORY!"

Ronin leapt off the couch.

"HOLY SH—RUN, YOU LITTLE DEMON, RUN!"

The dachshund dove—DOVE—into the end zone, ball clenched in his tiny mouth. The crowd on TV erupted. The score updated. Touchdown.

Ronin fist-pumped the air.

"YES! THAT’S MY BOY! MVP! MVP!"

You were cry-laughing at this point, clutching your stomach. Ronin was actually invested. You never thought you’d see the day.

He collapsed back onto the couch, running a hand through his hair, exhilarated.

"Shit," he exhaled. "That was better than half the fights I’ve been in."

"Told you." You grinned.

He glanced at you, then at the screen, then back at you—before smirking. "Guess you got me, angel."

You leaned against him, pressing your face into his shoulder. "So does that mean… Puppy Bowl is a new tradition?"

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Guess so. But next year, I’m bettin’ on Team Ruff."

"Traitor."

"Competitive."

You laughed, and Ronin, despite all his chaos, all his darkness, found himself smiling.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind nights like this.

Even if it meant postponing a little murder.

For now.

[11queensupreme11]

(don’t know if I already sent this ask 😭😭 I’m sorry)

if you know about EPIC the musical, there’s a song called ‘Love in Paradise’ that reminded me of Percy and the yans in that AU where she has all the children

Old friend

Maybe Grover by his empathy link??

It's been ten years since I last saw you

Remember me!

I am the infamous Odysseus!

👆 just Percy cause she’s really infamous lmao

Anyways, I've got all you could want here

All you could need here

Just you and me, my dear, my love for life

Soon, into bed we'll climb and spend our time

The yans. Literally. 😭😭 Especially with climbing into bed with her

I'm not your man

I'm what you want here

I'm what you need here

Just you and me, my love in paradise

Now 'til the end of time

From here on out, you're mine, all mine

Again. The yans. Even more with ‘till the end of time’ cause they’re gods 😔

Hell no, I could kill you where you stand

I'm no pet, I'm a married man

Oh handsome, you may try

But last I checked, goddesses can't die

Goddess?

You're adorable

Bow down now to the immortal Calypso, here to entertain

But fear not, I bring no pain

'Cause we've got

All we could want here

All we could need here

Under my spell, we're stuck in paradise

No one can come nor go, my island stays unknown

practically Percy’s helplessness against the gods — and the fact this isn’t her universe so she can’t go

No, no

I don't belong here

There's something wrong here

I won't be drawn to love in paradise

Not 'til the end of time, there is no way

You're mine, all mine

again, she can’t escape because this isn’t her universe and there’s no way back

Seven years, she's kept you trapped, out of your control

Time can take a heavy toll

this is more of a head canon for the au — like a Percy that lost all hope now??

Odysseus?

All I hear are screams

Ody, get away from the ledge

You don't know what I've gone through

You don't know what I've sacrificed

Every comrade I long knew

Every friend, I saw them die

And all I hear are screams

this could be her friends in the war (or all her dead friends, honestly) or even the loved ones she has back in the PJO! Universe. And the ‘get away from the ledge’ reminds me of the whole suicidal thoughts she has

It will be fine, dear

Come back inside, dear

Love of my life, come back to paradise

Let me close my eyes

I know your life's been hard

I'll stay inside your heart

All I hear are screams

I love you, my dear

I love our time here

Life would be so much worse

Just let me close my eyes

If you had died

Please stay from away from harm

Stay in my open arms

The whole ‘stay in my open arms’ reminds me of the yans so much — like, ‘you’ll be fine as long as you stay — why would you want to go back to that shitty life back in your universe??’ (At least those who know like beel or Loki)

and that’s all (am I onto something or am I on something??🧐🧐)

no this fits PERFECTLY

but technically a good portion of the EPIC the musical songs would fit her life well, especially since she canonically speed-runs odysseus' entire 10 year journey into like... a week or two in the sea of monsters 😭😭😭😭

[kkoga]

2. Unwanted reunion ┈─★ WC : 1034

Masterlist ! next !

Y/n turns her phone off after Yunjin drunkenly yells for her. The girl approaches over to Yunjin's voice, only to find Yunjin basically clinging onto Sakura for dear life. Y/n felt bad for Sakura, but atleast Yunjin made some progress with her 4 year long crush on the older member.

''C'mon Yunj, get off Sakura.'' Y/n says as she tries to pry the red head off of Sakura. The girl groans in protest.

''But I don't wannaaaaaaa'' Sakura giggles at Yunjin's behaviour, and Y/n just felt embarrassed. She was trying to save her ass, and this is what she gets in return??

''Bro, let Sakura enjoy the damn party too. She hasn't gotten a single drink in. Get off her and—''

''No no, it's okay Y/n. I can handle this, you should go enjoy too!'' Sakura gracefully cuts Y/n off, and before Y/n could tell her otherwise, Sakura's stern look told her all she needed to know.

''Well, there's no saving her now. Might as well get a pic and tease her for it tomorrow.'' After swiftly asking Sakura for a picture and taking it, the girl leaves the two alone.

Daniela enters the common area for HYBE. This room was commonly used for parties and what not, so Daniela wasn't so surprised to know this was the set place for Le sserafim's party.

Manon immediately books it to the nearest area with booze, Lara not far behind. Sophia sighs, knowing the bullshitry she will have to deal with on the way home.

Daniela notices Megan looking around. Trying to find some random girl to flirt with probably. Daniela knows she probably won't find this party any fun at all.

''At least it got me out of the house I guess...'' The Latina mumbles to herself. The girl was going to hang around the drinks area, get a couple more down, and probably pass out on the couch or something. That was until she bumped into someone.

''Oh, I'm so sorry—'' The Latina's words got stuck in her throat. The person she bumped into was none other than Hyunsik. Her fucking ex.

''Well look who it is... My wonderful ex girlfriend! Nice to see you hours after you sent that damn breakup text yeah?'' The guy grabs her arm, and forcefully pulled her close to him.

''Wanna have some fun? C'mon.. I know you still want me.'' His once sweet and cute smile turned into a sick and disgusting look. How did she ever fall for his bullshit?

''What the fuck are you— let go!'' Daniela struggles to get out of his grip, the girl reminded of the reasons as to why she even fell for him. His strength was known by all his fans and members. Fuck.

''Stop struggling already honey, it was only a few days ago you were basically begging me to meet up with you no?''

Daniela felt so disgusted. She did not needed to be reminded of their relationship. The thoughts of their intimate moments made her feel so... dirty. Good god, she let this man touch her like that? Daniela was damn near close to puking.

What was love making to her, was nothing but sex to him. Daniela hated men like that. The Latina was on the verge of tears, when suddenly, someone slapped his hand off of hers.

''Hey, what's going on here?'' Daniela couldn't look up. She was trying too hard to keep herself from bursting into tears.

''None of your damn business.'' Daniela could hear Hyunsik grit his teeth. She was sure he was sending whoever was next to her a death stare right now.

''It is going to be my business when I see a man clearly harassing a non-consenting woman. Now fuck off.'' The person defending her gently put an arm around Daniela. Strangely comforting, Daniela thought.

''What if I don't want to?'' Hyunsik tries to grab her arm, but the person stops him.

''I said, go. I'm getting you kicked out of the party. I know Le sserafim personally. Expect to hear from management tomorrow.'' Hyunsik looked threatened, and decided to just leave it be.

Daniela let go of a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She turns around to see her savior, and it met with fucking Y/n L/n. Someone notorious for her confident and rude behavior, along with her very obvious bitch face she constantly gives to everyone.

''Are you okay? Look, I will get him kicked out. Promise. Do you want me to find your members?'' Daniela doesn't know whether it was the booze or not getting to her head, but all she wanted to do right now was get comforted. So, drunkenly, she hugs and clings onto Y/n.

''Oh— oh... okay, yeah this is fine.'' Y/n gently pat her back, as if telling her it was going to be okay. Daniela couldn't hold it in anymore. The Latina burst into tears, staining Y/n's T-shirt with her tears.

''Uhm... we should go to a more private place. Are you alright with crying out here? I could call your members...'' Daniela shakes her head. She doesn't want any more people to see her vulnerable right now.

''No. Take me home please?'' It was definitely the booze talking right now. The only thing on Daniela's mind right now was comfort and rest.

''W-what? To your home? I don't know your address... We should just get your members Daniela—''

''No, please,'' Daniela pleaded, looking into Y/n's eyes, a tired and drained look on her face. ''I don't want any more people to see me right now. Just take me to yours? Pretty please?'' Y/n looked reluctant, Daniela could tell. So after a few more ''are you sure''s, Daniela found herself in Y/n's car, on the way to Y/n's as she sobbed and ranted to the girl. Completely forgetting who she was even talking to, the drinks keeping her mind hazy and confused. All Daniela knew at this moment, was that she was being taken somewhere, and that she was currently ranting about Hyunsik to someone. But at this point, the girl had forgotten who.

Taglist 13/30 : @itzkatflixs @yjiminswallet @hydrardz @wtfisthisnoclueman @yeetaberry127 @gtfoiydlyj @kristalag @haerinkisser @sunshinez4 @xochitlisbest @sirenontheloose @arihiu @harajuku

[sir-fenris]

Took me a little while to get to this 'cause my head was elsewhere yesterday, but I'm always here for the commmentary :D

I'm in the middle of an allergy attack and running on 4 hours of sleep, I'm gonna do my best.

Vi had lied to him, essentially. Paris was a prisoner just as long as he was here. But, as she reminded him frequently, he could leave at any time. They’d give him his sword back at the door. They’d take it away at the next base they crashed into. 

Lorelai was in her element, though. She was one of them now, clear as day. There was a little medallion around her neck, the gold markings which he recognized as distinctly imperial.

So funny to see Paris thinking about his kinda imprisonment, and then Lorelai is just having the time of her life.

He indulged her. He had to. And it was good for him too, to see the last stop before leaving Empire. Some kind of closure. One last goodbye.

I love Paris "having to" do stuff, it's delightful. Especially about Lorelai.

And love closure 👏👏 I know not always it's realistic to have one, but I really enjoy closure in whump.

It was a tundra. The frozen kind, though some stages were now in thaw. It was painfully beautiful. 

Ohhhh you didn't............ 😵‍💫

Only in the middle of the night, when they were already tangled in between each other’s limbs, did he realize the fever was upon him.

Own, Paris has a fever? Fucking god, he can't have one chapter of peace 🤣

“It’s my ship,” she said, the same way she ended all her arguments. “I could leave anytime I wanted. Why are you always trying to get rid of me?”

He desperately did not want to be rid of her. 

Then, as if reading his mind: “You give yourself way too much credit. I wanted this too.”

Well, Paris does actually give himself "too much credit" (I would say too much guilt). but that's to be expected after everything.

He wondered if he regretted it. Really, he regretted everything.

There we go. Love love love. Whumperflies.

If she was surprised by the change in topic, she didn’t show it. He suspected she wasn’t shocked at all. Delta was on the cusp of his thoughts, all the time.  Everything lead back to him. Lorelai raised one eyebrow at the new proclamation.

I need to say it.

👏HAUNTING👏THE👏FUCKING👏NARRATIVE👏

🗣AAAAAAAAAA

He didn’t mean to say that last part. Because he had killed Delta — and it had not felt kind. The ice felt colder beneath him as he went on.

Oh my fucking god, I need him metting face to face alive Delta so much, please, please, please, please.

I LOVE THE GUILT <333333

She barely reacted. He thought she might argue. Maybe he wanted her to. Maybe she saw another way out, some path that he didn’t. If he could do it all over, what would he change? Or would he always end up here — and Delta, dead on the ocean floor?

I'm......... AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“They told me I needed to. It’s his conditioning. He needed to feel powerless, all the time, or he would stop working. I was fucking terrified of what would happen if I lost control of him, if I lost the only edge I had. I was scared of him. And I needed him.”

“I hated needing. I hated feeling like I was losing control. And that’s all I was doing, the entire time. Just losing control, constantly. Over everything. Over myself.”

THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING AAAAAAAAAA-

I'M KICKING MY FLWOWOWIRJDIAOQOKW GIGGLING

No words, just feelings. Fucking christ.

“I’m sorry, Lorelai. For everything.

I wish I could take it back.”

this is effectively the final chapter of Crash Out

paris and lorelai will return in Destroyer

I'M DYING WITH THIS OMG YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS-

-

Just a reblog and like isn't enough for the last chapter.

Here it is the super like, super kudos, super heart of "I really liked this"

Very very excited about what comes next (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Crash Out - Love

(Content: fever, drug mention, bruises, discussions of past abuse, guilt)

He was in and out of sleep for a long time. He remained supervised. They didn’t trust him with as much rope as he could hang himself with. 

Vi had lied to him, essentially. Paris was a prisoner just as long as he was here. But, as she reminded him frequently, he could leave at any time. They’d give him his sword back at the door. They’d take it away at the next base they crashed into. 

Lorelai was in her element, though. She was one of them now, clear as day. There was a little medallion around her neck, the gold markings which he recognized as distinctly imperial.

“Did you scavenge that off a corpse?” he asked.

He had meant it as a joke.

He got the distinct sense that he had killed something beautiful. Like setting a butterfly on fire. Had she been changing all this time?

And yet she didn’t leave him. She changed all the time, but that didn’t. Over the border was still the goalpost. CTRL sheltered them at most stops. She’s their own now, of course she can stay. He offered what he could — intel when he had it, labor when he didn’t, when his body allowed him to. Sometimes he merely slept, looking sheepishly at the night guard for the time they were both wasting.

The border was a stone’s throw away and she wanted to make one last stop. 

He indulged her. He had to. And it was good for him too, to see the last stop before leaving Empire. Some kind of closure. One last goodbye.

It was a tundra. The frozen kind, though some stages were now in thaw. It was painfully beautiful. 

She had an eye for it more than he did. He’d have followed her up into the mountains and along the frozen stream, walked the whole length of tundra ten time over. Anything. Lorelai pulled winter weeds out from the ground to press into the journal she still carried. Small, living things dashed across the dead-land. Foxes and rabbits. Owls and swans. Living things, not so unlike them. Hot blood flowed through all of them, proof they still existed. Alive.

It was her idea to break into the cabin, which to him did not seem very altruistic, but he had no better ideas. Luckily enough, it was empty, seemingly abandoned for a time. They’d get better use of it.

Only in the middle of the night, when they were already tangled in between each other’s limbs, did he realize the fever was upon him.

A real one, this time. Not induced, not even dopesick. An honest to god fever.

Paris stood up blearily, feeling some of the heat recede when he’d detached from her body, but not much. It was still bright outside, something to do with the equinox. The sky was an odd, soft color. It was freezing out, which felt nice against his flushed skin. Lorelai groaned slightly from the bed. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself before she shuffled over to the door. At that point, he’d already stepped out.

Paris was on his knees in the snow. He pressed some of it to his face, still appreciating the contrast between the cold and the burning. It felt nice. It was strange, the things that felt nice to him now. As the last dregs of the drugs cycled out from his body, he found pleasures unmuted in their absence.

“You okay?” she called from the doorway. She was barefoot by the entrance, where the carpet was still warm.

He nodded, though he probably wasn’t. The fever was cooking his brain. 

The blanket hung off her bare shoulder. He hadn’t seen it as well in the dark, but the bruises marked her skin just as much as the love bites. She’d been busy. She’d been through a lot.

“I’m sorry for dragging you out here,” he blurted out. He’d been meaning to say it for a while. 

“What?” She blinked. “I wanted to come. This was my idea.”

“But you didn’t know what you were getting into. I didn’t tell you anything. It was taking advantage.”

“Did you know?”

He shook his head

“I knew it would be bad. I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“It’s my ship,” she said, the same way she ended all her arguments. “I could leave anytime I wanted. Why are you always trying to get rid of me?”

He desperately did not want to be rid of her. 

“I don’t understand you.” he said. He couldn’t fathom the thought of anyone staying with him by choice. If he could’ve left himself behind, he would’ve. He’d have done it in a heartbeat.

“What part don’t you get?” she asked. It tickled him how annoyed she sounded then. Like her clarity was being taken for granted. 

Then, as if reading his mind: “You give yourself way too much credit. I wanted this too.”

“This?” he laughed.

“Not all of it. I never wanted you to get hurt, Paris. I just wanted us to get out. I didn’t know how hard it would fight to keep you.”

A pause. She said:

“I had fun, though. Is that horrible to say? I had fun. I don’t regret it.”

He wondered if he regretted it. Really, he regretted everything.

When he didn’t answer for a while, she sat down on the wooden steps. The blanket shielded her from the cold contact. She lit up a cigarette, holding it delicately between her lips.

Another pause. He said:

“…You know I couldn’t have let him go, right?”

If she was surprised by the change in topic, she didn’t show it. He suspected she wasn’t shocked at all. Delta was on the cusp of his thoughts, all the time.  Everything lead back to him. Lorelai raised one eyebrow at the new proclamation.

“I couldn’t just let him go,” Paris said, because he had been thinking a lot about it. “He was too dangerous. Nobody would ever let that kind of power live in peace. He would have always be wanted, always somebody’s captive. He never could have had a happy life. It’s not his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve it. But its true. There was never any hope for him. The kindest thing to do would have been to kill him.”

He didn’t mean to say that last part. Because he had killed Delta — and it had not felt kind. The ice felt colder beneath him as he went on.

“I know I didn’t have to treat him the way I did. I’m not saying anything about that. But yeah. I never could’ve let him go.”

Clearly.

“I don’t know. That’s beside the point, now.”

She barely reacted. He thought she might argue. Maybe he wanted her to. Maybe she saw another way out, some path that he didn’t. If he could do it all over, what would he change? Or would he always end up here — and Delta, dead on the ocean floor?

“Why did you treat him like that?” Lorelai asked, leaning forward slightly onto her knees. “…You didn’t have to.”

It felt like being stabbed. But it was a miracle he’d even avoided the question for this long. She’d been patient with him, endlessly. He could afford to be honest. The fever would make it so, regardless.

“I was so angry,” he admitted.

“All the time. At everything. I couldn’t stand it. I hated my life and I hated myself. I still hate myself. The only reason I had to live was to try to keep empire running — and I didn’t even want that. It felt like the whole place was fucking diseased. There was this rot at the center of the machine. He was just the worst of all of it, the worst thing it had ever created. It wasn’t his fault. I know that, it wasn’t his fault.”

“They told me I needed to. It’s his conditioning. He needed to feel powerless, all the time, or he would stop working. I was fucking terrified of what would happen if I lost control of him, if I lost the only edge I had. I was scared of him. And I needed him.”

“I hated needing. I hated feeling like I was losing control. And that’s all I was doing, the entire time. Just losing control, constantly. Over everything. Over myself.”

“It just became a habit, after a while. It started with just…punishment. Then it was just because he was there. Because I could.”

He was acutely aware of how cruel the word punishment sounded in his mouth. He was aware of how absurd it was, without any of the false authority he’d once put behind it. Who had he thought that he was? He’d never had the right.

He forced himself to look up at her, scared as he was of what he’d find. The scars of his body ached in the cold.

“I’m sorry, Lorelai. For everything.

I wish I could take it back.”

~~~~~~~

this is effectively the final chapter of Crash Out

paris and lorelai will return in Destroyer

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen @sir-fenris

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[thats-how-i-like-it]

hi, here's a little vijinx - another love (tom odell) edit (feat. caitvi)

[sskk-manifesto]

Next time we should just skip over ep 3 and do a chapters 84-87 reread

[prebeat]

The guy wasn't supposed to be awake.

Charles' breath halts, however momentarily, in the raised state of his chest.

It's not the first time he's had to look a person in the eyes and kill them. It wouldn't even be the last. But in that moment's pause, he ends up being spoken to, and...

"What?"

The disbelief in his tone is clear. Here he is, stood in front of someone's bed with a gun pointed at them, and they're calling him miserable. He's not sure if it's a lack of self-preservation instinct, a terrible ability to evaluate a situation, or a shitty attention span. Hell, it might be all three.

Charles walks around the bed, keeps the gun pointed, and asks once more: "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Or, perhaps more accurately, what kind of idiot asks about his murderer's well-being? It's such a laughably stupid concept he's almost stunned by it.

Almost, except his gun clicks as he takes the safety off, like a reminder. If you say anything wrong, that's going to be the end of it.

Leo's first thought when he hears gunshots from the bathroom of his Favorite Diner isn't so much a thought as an explosion of color and panic. His knees collapse under him and he covers his ears, pressing his back against the wall across from the sinks, as ripples of mustard yellow and splatters of rust red swim across his vision, even with his eyes closed.

Too bright, too bright, too bright. It's the same mantra that has repeated in his head for as long as he has memories, even though he knows now that what he needs to say to have any chance of getting it to stop is actually "too loud," and it loops in his head while the sounds slow and he remembers how to breathe. Synesthesia always has and always will be a complete bitch, no matter how "cool" his classmates think it is.

His next thought is to be pissed off that his Favorite Diner is ruined, and he's not going to be able to study there ever again, which means he needs to find a new place to study, which sucks.

Hearing sirens in the far distance and a complete absence of screaming and gunshots outside the door, he decides he wants to know what the fuck happened outside the bathroom, knowing full well he's going to be hit with a miasma of emotions as he does so. (He likes this restaurant specifically because of its thick walls, and the way they keep frustrated sighs and anxious footsteps from assaulting his ears as thoroughly as they do in, for example, his apartment, or even worse, the echo chamber they call the university library).

He takes a deep breath and cracks the door, only to be paralyzed when there is only one source of any breathing at all. Miserable. Aching.

The sirens get louder.

The man's face finally clears in Leo's vision... the set of his shoulders. The rise and fall of his ribcage. It's all heartbreaking. And then it's gone. And Leo is alone, hitting his right radius against his left ulna until the police start trying to take questions. And more questions. For hours. He'll scream if he has to explain one more time that he's autistic, he knows what he knows and nothing else, and he wouldn't hide anything from them or lie in the first place, that's counterproductive to leaving and getting back to his life. And furthermore wrong, which is reason enough in itself.

The bruises bloom on the skin under his sleeves as he walks back to his apartment. He doesn't know why everyone was so insistent on figuring out why he survived. It bothers him.

It doesn't bother him as much as the killer himself. Why? Why put himself through so much agony when there are a cornucopia of other vocations he could pick from, all with 100% less murder? It can't be money, or else he could have just held the cashier at gunpoint and demanded the contents of the register. Which would be a middling amount for so much effort.

Leo watches YouTube clips of handguns being fired until he finds one that creates a similar mustard yellow hue in his vision, but even that is distorted. Moreso than audio recording aberrations can account for.

His eyes ache, and he hasn't finished studying, but it's gotten late, so he flips the lights off (reducing the intensity of the sounds of electricity running through the light-bulbs and in the walls) and starts getting ready for bed. Is it a stretch to his budget to have his own apartment? Yes. Is it worth it to always find things exactly where he left them? Definitely yes. He can go through his routine with his eyes closed, and does so, pulling an extra weighted blanket on top of himself as he presses his back against the headboard.

The sounds that annoy him so much when he tries to study are comforting when there's nothing left to do but process the day and let his mind wander until he feels tired enough to sleep. His neighbor's TV. His other neighbor's parakeet. The eclectic music playing constantly from the apartment above his. The cars and the way the air conditioning cycles through the vents. He's almost resigned himself to leaving the murderer's intentions in the "Confusing Social Behavior" box in his mind when he hears footsteps in his apartment. Outside his door.

His eyes meet the same pained eyes he'd seen hours ago. He's going to die. Which was inevitable, but this was sooner than he'd planned on. He has to know though. "If you can spare a minute... Could you tell me why? I won't fight back or try to run, I promise, but I've spent all day trying to figure out why you would kill all those people when it made you so miserable. I mean, especially when your xiphoid process and left 7th and 8th ribs are injured? What's so important that it couldn't wait for you to heal up?" Shit. He's rambling. He's definitely going to get shot before he gets an answer now, if he ever was going to get one in the first place.

[discocactusblogs]

🕯️

[kerosene-saint]

I hate being an aroallo autistic person whose sexually matured before I'm allowed to have sexual liberation