#i literally love him so much but like 😭😭

[treatbuckywkisses]

one thing abt me is im going to read angst no matter how much it hurts me :')

their friend group is so cute & fun I loved the relationships you made between them

     “ Bucky, thank you for the offer, but-” Bucky interrupted you before you could continue,” Come on, doll. Just one date. I’ll keep it friendly,” there was a hopeful look in his eyes. There was a clear conflict of interest as coworkers if you said yes. If you said no, then things could go back to the way they were. You would, however, never get to see what Bucky was like on a first date. Something you found yourself intrigued to find out. He's so dreamy!! doll gets me every time 🥹

     You tensed up, Bucky pulling away when you did. “ Doll, was it bad? Did I do something wrong?” You shook your head profusely,” No, Bucky, you did everything right. This has been the best date I’ve ever had. It was amazing and you’re amazing, but this. . .this can't happen,” you tried to make yourself clear, but your voice faltered towards the end. He looked wounded,” What? Why? Y/n, I have feelings for you and I can tell you have feelings for me too. The way you kissed me now-” you stopped him there,” Please forget about the kiss. Forget about this ever becoming something more. It can’t and it won’t.” He was baffled and could barely form any words,” Why? You just said this has been the best date you've ever been on. How can everything be going so wrong now?” He leaned against the capsule, shaking his head in disbelief. The sight of him made your heart ache. NOOOO:( this hurts my tummy bucky is literally so precious and simply just trying to have a good time & follow his heart why would anyone break it 😭

     “ I’m not,” with that said, it's like you threw the key back at him. The ferris wheel came to a stop, neither of you moving to leave. Bucky was looking at you as if you were a stranger—maybe you were now.  I'm actually going to be violently ill over this for DAYS. how could you do this 😭😭 

     Nevertheless, Bucky insisted on convincing you otherwise, following you with the teddy bear in hand. You weren’t the only ones leaving, so the crowd was dense and easy to get lost in. In less than a minute, however, he lost sight of you. His hand no longer in yours making sure that didn’t happen.  UGH NO:(, the hand comment I'm ACHING :( this is so devastating 

so according to the law (my rb of the prequel thing) i must sue you, so pay up🫶🏻 (just make them in love)

Conflict of Interest

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning(s): angst + fluff / mentions of homicide and case details / cheating (from side character) / drinking / failed dates / heartbreak

a/n: In Five Years Part 2 is taking me longer than expected to write, so here’s a small fic in the meantime! My finals are in two weeks and I can’t wait to get them done and over with to finally have more free time to write! Thank you for reading! ❤️

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part II 

     “ No more, Nat. I can’t go on another date,” you shut down Natahsa’s latest offer, taking a sip of the freshly brewed coffee she made. She rolled her eyes, sitting next to you on the leather couch in your joint office.“ Y/n, you’re seriously going to turn down another guy? I haven’t even told you anything about him yet,” she egged the idea on. You shook your head, handing her the latest case you were assigned to prosecute. “ Can we please just focus on this case? The trial is in a few weeks and we need to be prepared,” you refused to entertain this conversation any longer. 

     “ I just think you’ll really like th-“

     “ No.”

     “ But this guy is really cute and a doctor an-“

     You gave her a stern look,” No, I’ve decided to stop dating all together. They never end well and at this point emotionally, I can’t handle it.” You stood up to grab one of your law books. You needed to brush up on the precedents for previous crimes of passion in New York. Natasha sighed, glancing over the first file,” Your dates haven’t been that bad.” 

Keep reading

[softestqueeen]

prompt: "Oh? Does that turn you on?" a/n: sub!spencer lives in my head rent free. i hope you like it, enjoy <3 so, this is a repost beacause the original post got literally 0 notes and i want to see if tumblr is the issue or if it was really my writing 😭 original post + request warings:18+ MDNI!!, smut, pet names, hand job, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!reader I 979 words special prompts I special masterlist

You were standing in the kitchen of your boyfriends flat. Spencer Reid could do a lot of things and knew how to do even more things, but the one thing he never quite mastered, was cooking.

By no means were you a good chef, but you knew you way around a kitchen and could whip up a few meals. Which is why you were currently in Spencers kitchen, showing him how to do a simple lasagna.

"And that's how you do the layers. The key is to stay consistent and make the layers even. Now you go ahead and try, Spence."

Your boyfriend didn't enjoy the cooking as much as the close proximity while you were showing him how to do all the steps, guiding his hands or just hugging him from the side while watching something cook.

Watching Spencer cook away made pride swell in your chest. This wasn't your first cooking lesson and it was definetely a dramatic improvement from your first one, where you had a quick bathroom back and once you returned he managed to completely burn the pasta sauce. He looked like a kicked puppy while you threw the sauce away.

But since then he had gotten significantly better, even surprising you with a home cooked meal on your anniversery.

Once Spencer successfully laid out the next layer of the long pasta and sauce, you couldn't help but smile.

"You did such a good job, you're getting better and better," you knew your boyfriend loved it when you praised him, so you decided to tease him a little bit with it ,"you're such a good boy, Spencer."

That made him stop. Spencer was glad that he wasn't facing you right now, but rather was standing at the counter with you standing behind him to his right, now looking at his face. You immediately saw his blush, but Spencer was glad you couldn't see the boner he was now sporting after hearing his words.

He knew you were teasing him in a way, though you were still earnest. Still, he couldn't keep his body from reacting, the words planting a seed inside of his mind in a place he hadn't dared to discover yet.

You could see immediately what had happened, how your words affected Spencer. A slow smile spread over your face and you stepped closer to him, your lips now directly next to his ear.

"Oh, does that turn you on? I didn't know you liked being called that, though you were always my good boy." Now you were being a bit mean, but you knew that Spencer would tap out if it got too much.

At you calling him a good boy again, Spencers breath hitched. He wasn't surprised that you almost immediately caught on to his feelings.

You reached around his hip, palming his length through his trousers, making Spencer moan. Starting to pepper kisses over his neck, while Spencer leaned against you, just teasing him for now.

"You like that, baby? Me calling you a good boy?" He could hear you so clearly with your mouth directlly to his ear and his cock twitched in reaction to your filthy words.

It took him a moment to register that you asked him a question, but once he did he nodded, putting more of his weight against you.

"Words, baby, I need words. Be a good boy for me or I'll stop."

"Y- Yes, I- uhm, do like it when you call me that. Please, please I need you."

You could feel him throbbing though his trousers, deciding to have some mercy. Slowly undoing his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. Reaching inside you pull out his length, the tip glistening with precum as Spencer let out a relieved sigh.

Taking him in your hand you slowly start to move up and down, spreading the precum on his length. His pretty moans and whines only spurred you on further, not yet increasing your speed, but the grip you had on him, making him gasp.

You knew this was a new situation for the both of you, the dynamic itself already familiar. You decided to test out the waters, Spencer now being able to think clear enough incase he felt uncomfortable with anything.

"Such a good boy for mommy, huh? You like my hand wrapped arounf you?" Spencer moaned at your filthy words, his cock twitching imaptiently in your hand.

"Yes mommy, please more." Jackpot.

You went faster over his length, your free hand wandering to his front as well, slipping under his t-shirt and sprawling out over his stomach, making his muscles contract.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. I can feel you're getting closer."

"Please, mommy, make me cum. I want to be good for you." His breathing was getting more irregular and you could feel him being impossibly close to his high.

"Don't worry baby, yo're already such a good boy for me. Cum for me, cum for mommy."

Your words finally tipped him over the edge, his cum spurting all over his stomach and your hand. You continued to stroke him, your movements slowing down while he calmed down as well.

You peppered kisses onto evey free patch of skin you could reach at the moment and retracted your hand, taking a paper towel to clean you both up. After washing your hands and cleaning up the evidence of your short lived passion, you were ready to get things done.

"Well I'd say you finish the lasagna and then we'll contine. What do you say, Spence?"

With those words you left a stunned and sputtering Spencer behind. He turned around, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But once you gave him a pointed look, he immediately went back to the lasagna. 

You were sure you've never seen someone layer anything that fast.

the requests for this event are OPEN until sunday (16/02)! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open! (now also for the x files)

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok

[reiding-writing]

in my head cold!reader fs has her silly moments because she’s a funny gal!!! she just hides it 😞 i also would love to see them all go ice skating because they tease her about being an ice princess all the time

SLIP ‘N SLIDE — SPENCER REID!

for someone often likened to all things icy, you don’t deal with actual ice all that well.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 1.3k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — not quite ice skating, more like ice walking, but close enough i hope 😭

Snow blankets the ground in an unbroken sheet of white, thick and heavy, muffling the world. The air is sharp enough to slice through layers of clothing, and each breath curls into a ghostly mist before vanishing. It's the kind of cold that settles in your bones, the kind that reminds you of all the reasons you despise winter.

The wind cuts like a blade against your cheek, biting through the layers of your FBI-issued winter coat. You bury your chin deeper into the fleece-lined collar, eyes narrowed against the sharp glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off the ice.

“The crime scene is on the other side,” Hotch announces, his breath fogging in the air.

“Great,” you mutter. “Just great.”

A frozen lake. Of course.

You glance at the ice stretching out before you, the crime scene a stark, crimson-streaked contrast against the pristine white of the snow on the far side. The local authorities determined it would take too long to go around, and in these temperatures, time is everything. The killer's trail is fresh, the evidence vulnerable to the elements.

So, naturally, your team has decided to cross the ice.

“Let's move carefully,” Hotch warns. “We don't know how thick it is.”

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Morgan says, shifting his weight as he surveys the slick surface between you and the body. “Guess we’re getting our morning cardio in,”

Beside him, Spencer adjusts his scarf, his breath puffing in front of him like smoke. “Technically, the increased difficulty of walking across an unstable, frictionless surface means our energy expenditure will be higher than normal. It’s not exactly—”

“Kid,” Morgan cuts in, shaking his head, “it was a joke,”

Spencer closes his mouth, but the corners twitch like he’s fighting the urge to clarify further.

You sigh, already feeling the first inklings of a headache forming. The case has been dragging on for days now—cold, bleak, and utterly relentless, much like the weather. The victim count is rising, and the unsub’s patterns are erratic, making it harder to form a cohesive profile.

Everything about this case feels unsteady, and now, looking at the vast stretch of ice before you, that instability has become a literal obstacle.

The team step onto the ice in what’s almost a single-file line, following the careful steps of the local detective guiding them safely across the lake.

You, however, stay firmly planted at the edge.

“You coming, Ice Queen?” Morgan calls over his shoulder, smirking.

The nickname grates, but you don’t react. You never do. You've heard it all before—it’s nothing new.

But today, for once, the title feels ironic. Because as much as you might be an ‘Ice Queen,’ you are not in your element.

The moment you step onto the ice, you know you're doomed.

Your boot slides, and suddenly, gravity isn't your friend. Your arms pinwheel as you scramble for balance, heart lurching into your throat.

Morgan barks out a laugh. “Damn, Princess. You sure you’re not playing it up for effect?”

You shoot him a glare. “Bite me, Morgan.”

He just chuckles, clearly amused by your suffering.

JJ glances back with a smothered smile, and Emily—traitor that she is—grins outright. “Need a hand?” she offers, but there's amusement in her voice, and you refuse to give her the satisfaction.

“No.” you say stiffly, planting your feet more firmly.

Except the ice has other plans.

Your boot skids again, and for a split second, you think you might recover—until you don’t. Your feet fly out from under you, and you hit the ice with a spectacular lack of grace.

The impact rattles through your bones, and for a moment, you just lie there, staring up at the grey sky, wondering if it’s too late to quit your job and move somewhere warm.

You hear Morgan’s laughter first—loud and unfiltered. Then Emily’s, followed by JJ’s soft giggle. Even Rossi looks vaguely amused.

And Spencer.

When you turn your head, you find him standing nearby, eyes wide, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

Your dignity is in shambles.

“Glad I could entertain you,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

Morgan wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “I gotta be honest, I expected better from you. All that ice in your veins, and you can't even stand up on it?”

You level him with a look that could freeze hell itself. “Say that again, Morgan. I dare you.”

That just makes him laugh harder.

You try to rise—carefully, deliberately—but the moment you shift your weight, your foot betrays you again, sending you skidding forward. You barely catch yourself on your hands before your knees slam into the ice.

This is actual hell.

You hear a quiet shuffling, and then Spencer is crouching beside you. “Here,” he says, offering his hand. “Let me help you,”

You stare at it, then at him. “I can do it myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says patiently, “but statistically speaking, the longer you struggle, the higher the likelihood of you falling again,”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you just calculate my probability of embarrassment?”

“Technically, it’s your probability of losing your balance,” he corrects. “But if you’d prefer, I could just—“

“Fine,” you snap, before he can retract his offer.

You grab his hand, and he pulls you up with surprising steadiness. His grip is warm, fingers wrapping securely around yours. He doesn’t let go immediately, waiting until you find your footing.

“Okay?” he asks.

You nod, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His lips quirk in the smallest smile. “Anytime,”

Behind you, Morgan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Man, that was cute,”

“I hope you drown.”

You manage to stay upright as you start moving again, though it's a battle with every step. Spencer stays close, occasionally offering a hand when you falter. You try not to let it bother you—try not to acknowledge the warmth lingering on your skin where his fingers brushed against yours.

Eventually, you reach the other side of the lake, and you’ve never been more grateful to feel solid ground beneath your feet.

Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder as he passes. “Nice work, Permafrost. That was real impressive,”

You resist the urge to trip him.

“Go die.”

“You wound me,” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “And here I was, thinking we had a special bond,”

“If by ‘special bond’ you mean I tolerate your existence, then sure.”

Spencer snorts beside you, and for a brief moment, you almost smile.

Almost.

But then the cold seeps back in, and the reality of the case presses down on you once more. The victim is just ahead, her body pale and still against the snow.

Your amusement fades.

There’s still work to be done.

“You really don’t like the ice, huh?” Spencer asks after a moment.

You sigh, brushing the remnants of frost from your jeans. “No. I really don’t.”

“Noted,” he says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their reaction to the fact that you asked them to obey you during sex🫦

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Park Min Su x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Gang No Eul x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

Warning: NSFW

A/N: It was written in classes at the university!😭

🫦🫦🫦

Cho Hyun Ju

Usually your girlfriend is the main one in bed, but it happens that you really want to be the main one. When you ask her to obey you tonight, Ju doesn't resist, she likes to watch you control her embarrassedly and incompetly. Ju like when you try to flirting to point her out.

- Baby, your face is so cute, I can only cum by looking at it. - the girl teased you when you ordered her not to cum.

- Ju, stop embarrassing me! Because of you, I'm leaving my role!

- I'm silent, I'm silent, baby.

Still, you like it better when your girlfriend orders you, so you rarely offer her to change roles.

Park Min Su

Your boyfriend is literally a timid rabbit, he is very shy and gentle in relationships, so you take the main role, both in ordinary relationships and in bed.

It doesn't bother both of you, because the guy literally has a fetish for you to order him to do something, but without any humiliation! You two don't like it at all! Everything is nice and very tender with you!

- Honey, do you know how you can please your beloved girl?

- What should I do?

- Give me a cunnilingus, and then I'll reward you.

You never force him to do something against his will, if he doesn't like something, he'll tell you right away.

Thanos (Su Bong)

No, no, no. Don't even think about asking him to obey you during sex, he will refuse you with a laugh. No matter how much he loves you, he's not going to agree to such an adventure.

He believes that a man should not lay in front of a woman, even if he has a strong love for her, so don't even think that he will agree.

And if you suggest, he will bring you to five orgasms, after which you will forget about your idea.

- Now I'll get this fucking dope out of your head, baby. So that you don't offer me to obey you anymore. - he said almost always when he stuck his dick in your pussy.

Gang No Eul

With her, also don't think that she will allow you to subjue her. She won't respond to your request with laughter, but will only show who is really in charge by fucking you well.

No Eul is not used to obeying anyone, no matter a girl or a guy, no matter she loves much or not, she will not allow herself to be subordinated to anyone.

And she herself understands that you like it better when you humiliate yourself in front of her, and all your ideas are just a small performance.

- My love, I love you very much, but let's be honest, you like to be humiliated by me and you like to beg to let you cum. So don't make an iron lady out of yourself, but let me give you real pleasure. - these words are enough for your panties to get wet, she knows you too well.

Nam Gyu

Your boyfriend is a good manipulator, he doesn't let anyone get to him, let alone allow himself to obey someone.

He is a very respectable man, the owner of the club, he is used to other people running in front of him on their hind legs and almost whining, as long as he would pay attention to them. And he only laughs at how pathetic they are and he will never descend to such a point.

But you are his exception.

You are the only girl, and in general, the only person in front of whom he himself can kneel and beg to pay attention to him.

So he does not refuse your offer to be a master in bed, on the contrary, he loves diversity in your sexual life, so he is ready for you to put a collar on him and give commands, he is ready for anything for you.

- Good boy. Good Gyu.

🫦🫦🫦

[searchingforbucky]

Good god. What a MAN. They are literally the sweetest two people in the world and IM in love with THEM. “You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s still early, but I’m sure.” Oh my goooooood he loves her so much, even with a mouth full of food, awkward as all get out, and a little all over the place. And him saying “I’m so happy to hear that” like he was gonna be perfectly fine with that being all she shared 😭 DO YOU GUYS NEED A THIRD PLEASE ( though I know his love could never stray from being wholeheartedly on her)

Line cook! Azriel x Reader (343 word drabble, part of my line cook modern au, found on my masterlist)

~~

“I love you,” Azriel said—almost mused. The chatter from the surrounding restaurant was too commonplace for the revelation he just let loose. 

“What?” Your response was far less articulate, a mouthful of the new dish Azriel was trying for the winter menu. 

“I said I love you. I thought you should know.” 

You blinked, and then painfully attempted to swallow. The actions were jittery and uncoordinated and you reached for your water when you felt the urge to cough. Azriel simply watched, his face in his palm as he sat across from you on the other booth as if your fight to breathe was breathtaking in itself.

“I—Azriel, what?” 

Azriel only smiled. He reached across the table to pry your hand away from your water cup and brought the tips of your fingers to his lips. “I love you, y/n. You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s still early, but I’m sure.” 

An incredulous breath left you, followed by a disbelieving laugh. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” 

Incredulation gave way to giddiness, which fought for your composure. Your night class started in 20 minutes, and the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with in just a few short months was professing his love for you. 

“I love your cooking.” 

Azirel’s brows shot up, joy and confusion mingling on his face. He brought your hand down on the table and intertwined your fingers together. “I’m so happy to hear that.” 

“Wait,” you shot out. Your phone dinged with a reminder to start walking to the bus. “That is not what I meant to say. I meant to say that I love you, Az. That I love you too. This—Oh, god.” 

With your final words ending in a mortified moan, you tapped at your phone and squeezed your eyes shut. In truth, speaking around Azriel hadn’t gotten any easier since you began dating. He flustered you at every possible opportunity and this had to be the worst. 

But with your eyes closed, you missed the elated grin consuming Azriel’s face. “Even better.” 

[with-my-calamitous-love]

i meant to finish this some time ago 😭 but anyway, back on my bodyguard rotting! special tag for @crushmeeren because i think i put this in ur inbox a while ago and never got around to it lol, anyway here it is. nsfw under divider, f! reader for that part 🤍🫧

bodyguard! eijiro, who has a smile just like sunshine. who has a dopey grin and the personality of a golden retriever. who, on paper, doesn’t sound like he’d be capable of even hurting a fly- until you see his rock hard muscles peaking through his shirt, or the jagged edges of his skin after activating his quirk. who, 90% of the time, is so sweet its tooth rotting. the other 10% of the time, he’s a nightmare to whoever threatens you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who genuinely loves his job. he’s level-headed and rational, able to solve most disputes with some talking or light physical action. who can’t complain, because after all, most of his day is being around a funny, beautiful person- so who cares if he has to rough up a guy for cutting you off or being too touchy? he’s happy to do it.

bodyguard! eijiro, who takes ‘doing anything to protect you’ and makes it ‘doing anything for you.’ don’t feel like driving? he’s got it. have a very specific craving at 2 in the morning? no questions asked. he’s also attentive, noting your mannerisms or idiosyncrasies that make you, you. he may not say it, but he knows those subtle signs of burn out, or anxiety, or exhaustion. as much as his job is to protect you from external threats, he cares just as much- if not more- about protecting your happiness.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is the best person to bring to bars or clubs. the first reason being that you’d trust him if you were hanging off a ledge, but the second being that he’s just may be the funniest, most charming guy you’ve ever met. who doesn’t even realize how attractive it is, the way he can make you lose your breath with laughter while maintaining an iron grip on your drink, placing his hand on your waist and protectively eyeing anyone who’s eyes seem a little too stuck on you for his liking.

bodyguard! eijiro, who asks if its okay if he take the two of you back to his place because its closer, and because he secretly doesn’t want the night to end. who sees your shoes by the door, coat laying on his couch, and you unwinding in his washroom and feels a little pang in his heart. who knows his feelings well and knows damn well by now he has a crush, but keeps it professional. until you can’t hold it in any longer and tell him how bad you have it for him. by then, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and towards his bedroom.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

bodyguard! ejiro, who is just as sweet as he is rough. who will tug off your clothes (shredding them if he has to) and apologetically kiss the bare skin underneath. who has sharp teeth, and won’t hesitate to sink them in even if you tear up a little. who manhandles you, tossing you around on the bed like its nothing, whispering: “you like this position, baby?” “let me know what feels good.” meanwhile, he’s folding you like origami.

bodyguard! eijiro, who loves your tits. who can’t resist grabbing himself a handful once he gets your bra off, captivated by the way the jiggle and spring free. who can be a little mean, pinching and twisting your nipples before taking one in his mouth. who makes sure you feel his razor sharp teeth graze the sensitive bud, alternating between the two, giving each the same amount of love and attention. who releases them with a slight pop! deciding he wants to taste more of you.

bodyguard! eijiro, makes sure your comfortable before going down on you like he’s starving. on any other day, he’d ease into it- slowly kissing, soft licks and light sucking- but who has waited so long to do this he hopes you’ll forgive his impatience. who makes sure your thighs wrap around his head, eating your pussy out like its his last meal. who literally will not move from between your legs until you make him, telling him that you’re already dizzy with pleasure.

bodyguard! eijiro, who smirks a little when he pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, seeing your eyes widen and your cheeks blush. who, quite frankly, knows he’s big, but also knows how to use it. who takes your thighs and folds you in half, giving him a better view. who’ll run the tip of his cock through your folds, hearing your whines and feeling it go straight to his dick. who meets no resistance finally pushing himself inside you, moaning in unison when he feels your pretty walls taking him in.

bodyguard! eijiro, who has god-like stamina. who makes that skin slapping noise he knows drives you insane, grunting and moaning when he feels himself reach mind-meltingly deep inside you. who wrecks your pussy and praises you while he’s doing it: “taking me so good, ah.” “making me feel so good, princess? shit, i’m not stopping anytime soon.” who makes a mental note to himself that he’ll probably run out the next morning to grab you plan b.

speaking of which… bodyguard! eijiro, who slows down just a little, asking you where you want him to finish. who could cum right then and there when you tell him you don’t want him pulling out, to which he’s more than happy to oblige. who feels his orgasm coming, but draws out yours as much as possible- massaging your tits, kissing you deep, rubbing little circles on your clit. who makes sure he’s buried deep when he feels you cum, groaning as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock. who pumps in and out a few more times before collapsing down beside you. who, 2 seconds later, gets up to grab you water or ice, but who can’t resist when you pull him back into bed, vowing to deal with the soreness as long as he’s next to you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is more than happy to carry you around everywhere the next morning, returning back to his jovial green like he didn’t just rearrange your organs the night before. <3

[slavicdolls4mangione]

have you seen that trend on tiktok where gfs prank their bfs by telling them they don't want to sleep over? i NEEDDDDD a blurb of that with luuu

I HAVEEEE omg i’m so glad you sent this anon because i was literally thinking of writing a little something about it with our lu 😭

before you and lu decided to move in together, you would be having your regular late night hangouts on friday nights that would last throughout the weekend and this time you happened to stay over at his place.

lu would be reading a book while you’d be scrolling through tiktok, your legs thrown over his lap (because the boy needs to be touching you somehow), and as you’re scrolling through your fyp you come across this video of a girl telling her boyfriend she won’t be spending the night anymore and it would make you wonder how lu would react to it so of course you decide to put the prank into action:

“lu i’m gonna go in like 15 minutes or so”

cue luigi whipping his head up like 🤨🙁 “what do you mean amore we’re spending the weekend together remember?”

and you’d be like “yeah but i don’t feel like it anymore i’m sorry”

and he’s pulling the puppy eyes on you right then and there, closing his book in a heartbeat, asking what’s wrong, if you’re feeling sick, if he did something to make you upset, if you’re getting bored and if he should put on a movie or you guys should go out 😭 poor boy is stressing himself out, and that’s when you’d start laughing and just pull him into a hug, kiss all over his face and tell him “it’s just a tiktok prank my love i’m sorry”

CUE HIS SASSY EYE ROLL LMFAO, he’d lovingly tell you how annoying you are and ramble about how much he hates tiktok while also dropping his entire weight onto you and shove his face in your neck (just in case you actually decide you want to head back to yours, but you can’t do that if he has you trapped duh)

[oikarma]

terrible things

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: people like to say love is a static thing-it sparks at first sight and never fizzes out. but maybe it just takes on a different feeling, quite like the ever-changing colors of a flame.

a/n: new month new ending! this is the last part to the number one girl series. hope you enjoy <3

part one / part two / part three

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liked by 703,924 others

f1gossipofficial: Max Verstappen was spotted walking Y/N L/N to dinner from electric lady studios! Two things are on our mind: new music and an old flame.

tagged: yourinstagram, maxverstappen

view all 53,681 comments

user1: i feel like this is going to get messy real quick..

user2: MY YNMAX HEART 🥺 ARE THEY FINALLY TOGETHER

user3: hello? what about lewis FREAKING hamilton?

user4: not y/n in her homewrecker era

user5: woah woah she was there WAY before kelly user6: kelly and max announced their split months ago user7: ikr how are people defending her

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@/charmschoolgirl She is definitely releasing new music. So happy! I hope the Grammy's don't snub her this year.

@/its2ayem freak bro 😭 she just said that her and lewis have never agreed to anything beyond friends & he is one of her closest friends

@/genericuser5 who is this diva 💜

@/bananas I lowk felt bad when the interviewer asked about Max. You could like...see it on her face. How she didn't want to talk about it.

@/charlesdannate but!! she said they were on talking terms again!! and they'd reconciled and also that photo of them leaving els!!!!!!! YN LOVE SONG ABOUT MAX?

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liked by lando, jennierubyjane and 3,910,514 others

yourinstagram: TOO MUCH TO LOSE / FEB 2

view all 702,193 comments

francolapinto: mother 🛐

user1: oh next year is going to be HELL for him user2: @/lewishamilton @/maxverstappen idek which one of you she's dating but DO SOMETHING yourinstagram: oh franco...don't you think i'm a bit too old for you? user3: @/yourinstagram y/n bae he dated a mother of like 3 kids or something age is nothing LMAOAOAO user4: franco's mommy kink allegations r never going away

user5: red is SO your color!!

user6: i love how even her looks r maturing? like on burnout it was all schoolgirl, teen, naive and this album is SERVING.

luxurylaw: pleasure to style you !!

yourinstagram: nono it was MY honor

user7: time to wager. is this a baddie (i eat men) album or a breakup (???) album

user8: well she's all cozy w max now so maybe something happened with lewis? user9: @/user8 WHYYY I LOVED THEM TOGETHER

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r/popheads · 1 wk. ago jammies_on_all_night

Y/N L/N - TOO MUCH TO LOSE [MEGATHREAD]

This megathread is to be used for discussion regarding Y/N L/N's second album, as well as articles and reviews of the album. The album, Too Much to Lose, comes out at midnight in PST.

Please keep all reviews to the megathread - I will attempt to keep the post updated with reviews, please feel free to DM me if I've missed any.

Links to any leaks, as well as asking for any, will not be allowed in this megathread.

Album Links:

Spotify

Apple Music

TIDAL

Amazon Music

Tracklist:

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

prelude in e minor

cornerstone

tis the damn season

i love you, i'm sorry

heavenly

terrible things

don't look back in anger

This thread will be updated with important links for release day events, reviews of the album, etc.

ynsgirlfriend: I was expecting another pop-y album but this was so much more heartfelt. WCBF eats so hard. SO HARD.

↳ dannyric03: Love her growth. Also, the way the album goes from distancing herself (we can't be friends, duh) until the time is right and finding so much beauty in what time you have (terrible things). I don't even want to speculate who the album is about. It's...beautiful. ↳ User5: calling it rn. wcbf (wfyl) is going to be a smash hit on the radio

CharliesPrelude2: literally came up w my user after charlie's prelude (based off of chopin's prelude in e minor) SO Y/N ACKNOWLEDGED ME

↳ SalsaBird: LOL. Loved her on that track. Didn't expect them but they were haunting. Honestly, I'm surprised at how insane her vocals are.

Sharks1039: Trying to decode this. bear with me. [1/2] 1. we can't be friends (wait for your love) - i feel like this is pretty obviously about max. not exactly, bcs i think we've garnered it was y/n who left him first after THAT night (thanks burnout!!) but the fact that she's learning to live without him. even though she still wishes they could be friends. just my interpretation. 2. prelude in e minor - i don't know. it's beautiful. it's chopin. it's y/n. it's just there and a good transition into the rest of the album? it really cleared up my mind and helped me appreciate the other songs. 3. cornerstone - seeing that person in every place. "thought i saw you at the X, but it was only a lookalike." idk who's perspective this is supposed to be from. the message is imo such longing you look for it everywhere. 4. tis the damn season - i feel like the lyrics point toward max (hometown, etc.) but i also feel like we've never really seen anything in the last 4 years indicating a reunion like that. after we stopped seeing her and lewis (we saw them SM last year) i thought something might've gone wrong? i'm p sure they're still on friendly terms, they comment on each other's posts, etc. but less close. maybe some regret from her side?

↳ ApplestoApples: I KNEW I wasn't the only one who thought "tis the damn season" gave Lewis. They hinted at a sort of romance. Especially when Lewis visited Y/N in her hometown (they took a few pictures with fans who'd spotted them). "It always leads to you, in my hometown" is probably about her thinking a lot about that. Sad they didn't work out. Loved how well he treated her and how happy they seemed. ↳ Sharks1039: @/ApplestoApples how did i not know that. omfg it's so about lewis. ↳ Shakes1039: anyway part two of my yap. [2/2] 5. i love you i'm sorry - "you were the best but you were the worst, as sick as it sounds i loved you first" ??? i don't even know what this means but damn girl i hope you're ok now. 6. heavenly - this is such a love song. lowkey found it a TINY bit jarring when we went from ilyis to heavenly but it's more like. i love you (im sorry) to i love you (i'm not)? that's the only explanation i can think of. banger, though. 7. terrible things - MY FAVORITE SONG. ALSO SHOULD BE YOURS. "i can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me" hello. i bawled hearing this. i'm so glad she's found love because it seemed like the max thing shook her up so bad. "don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose ... i beg you to choose to walk away" oh my god. she still sounds pretty worried about how strong love is and how losing a loved one will hurt... 8. don't look back in anger - oasis cover. live. i feel like given the previous song (terrible things) it's like when you walk away to protect yourself from love, don't look back in anger. and at the end of the day, i think this is an album about max. some people talk about how she has growth through the album but honestly idrk about that. it's just her coming to terms with her actions. it's an album about being in love and all the bad things that happen when you're in love. it's an album about deciding to walk away to not hurt yourself. but at the end of the day, people are overcoming that desire to protect themselves. they want to love, even if it hurts.

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liked by lewishamilton and 1,203,864 others

yourinstagram: hello everyone! happy valentine's ♡ i just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for the support you have shown my music. everyone says this, but the songs i put out are pieces of my heart. they are lessons i have learned and stories i want to tell. some of you have already figured this out, but a little piece of advice:

don't be afraid to love. there are much more terrible things to experience.

view all 291,473 comments

yourinstagram: i mean don't be afraid to love in reasonable circumstances!! 😭 don't be afraid to love if people discourage it, if your heart truly wants it. pls be afraid to love if you're being forced against your will. love you all so much, take care and make good decisions!

user1: she's so real for freaking out over misinterpretation user2: sorry ma'am reading fics of your man as a mafia boss has stopped me from mafia reasonable decisions

lewishamilton: happy valentine's, y/n

yourinstagram: hope the grapes did something for you user3: roman empire unlocked. user4: omfg 😭 not the grapes

user5: hold up. why is no one talking about that photo. it's not in any of her music videos?? she's in that dress in the dlbia live performance but WHEN WAS IT TAKEN

user6: i bet it's max. user7: it's totally max. user8: RELATIONSHIP UPDATE PLS @/yourinstagram

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liked by yourinstagram and 5,019,432 others

maxverstappen: Home is where the heart is.

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 715,893 comments

user1: HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user2: it's real omg!!

user3: haven't seen y/n in ages THANK U FOR THE CRUMBS MAX

user4: the way he looks at her...

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liked by 732,891 others

f1gossipofficial: Max Verstappen spotted crying after last Dutch GP. All our hearts are equally as heavy.

view all 13,405 comments

user1: poor man. last year of zandvoort. i'll miss it too

user2: i'm sure y/n will cheer him up! missed seeing her at the last few races

user3: omg what if she's pregnant... user4: girl 😭 i like to think max would've learned from kelly and put a ring on her BEFORE the baby user5: @/user3 yea the last photo we saw of her was like months ago and she was wearing a fur around her waist so we couldn't see much

user5: rip dutch gp.

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maxverstappen: Life can do terrible things. But you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

tagged: yourinstagram

Comments on this post have been limited.

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BREAKING: Max Verstappen has retired from racing. He has reportedly moved back to the Netherlands with remaining family.

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INTERVIEW WITH HUGH L/N-VERSTAPPEN

...

INTERVIEWER: Moving on, congratulations on the Best Actor award!

HUGH gives the interviewer a shy smile. He takes a sip of the coffee in his hands: Thanks. I was so surprised. I didn't think people enjoyed my performance that much.

INTERVIEWER: Well I guess you were proven wrong. How do you feel about following in your mother's footsteps, instead of racing like your father?

HUGH pauses before speaking: I suppose...I sometimes wonder if I would be suited for it. If I could've done more. At the end of the day, acting feels like keeping my mother's legacy. Many people remember her as my dad's wife, or just a songwriter. She went into acting because she loved it. I just wish she was more recognized for it.

[ There is a moment of silence as Hugh plays with the cup in his hands. ]

INTERVIEWER: I know your acceptance speech brought quite a few people to tears. It was very moving.

HUGH nods: I didn't mean to. I just wanted to thank my mom one more time. And my dad, too.

INTERVIEWER: It was a good kind of tears, I'm sure.

HUGH laughs.

INTERVIEWER: Which of your mother's songs is your favorite?

HUGH: Well, my dad used to try singing "terrible things" to me. He's not a great singer, so emphasis on the try.

INTERVIEWER: If I'm not wrong, the song does say "now son, I'm only telling you this because life does terrible things." Is it like a message to you?

HUGH: Yeah. I know the song is about how hard love is and how painful it is. But she did it anyway. What's my excuse? Life is short and there's so much to experience.

INTERVIEWER is handed a note. THEIR eyebrows furrow, looking at HUGH: Sorry, would you be comfortable answering a question about your dad? I know you only agreed to talking about Y/N. We can cut this part out if you mind.

HUGH shakes his head: No, it's quite alright. What was the question?

INTERVIEWER: Well, your father hasn't made any public appearances save for your Academy Award win. It's been many years...would he like to pass on a message?

HUGH: Oh, my dad loves to talk. Let me think. He's old, you know that. I think he enjoys the quiet life. He wouldn't survive in an F1 car nowadays, but he still enjoys driving.

[ HUGH thinks. The INTERVIEWER doesn't prompt him. ]

HUGH smiles to himself: I don't think he'll be showing up at any of my future premieres. Don't expect that. It's been a while, yeah. But he's happy with his years. He said he's close to seeing her again.

INTERVIEWER only nods. There are tears in both their eyes.

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a/n: it's over! lowk felt bad for the ending. but i think i like it this way. sorry ynlewis stans. i just think. at the end of the day they would find their way back to each other.

[searchingforbucky]

LOOOOOOOOVE this. Girl, I understand your hesitance, I DO! But if Eris VANSERRA was there calling me “My love” and “my girl” I’d do literally anything he wanted me to, no questions asked. For real though this was soooooo sweet. I know hearing her say that she doesn’t want his money, just him, healed something so deep within him. Like wow, she just loves him, and he doesn’t need to buy it. But that’s also probably the only way he’s learned to show his love 😭 he makes me feel so many things. And him just so desperately wanting to show her how much he loves her, and how much she DESERVES????? Girl you better lock him down, not that I think he’d willingly go anywhere she wouldn’t be, but STILL.

How about sugadaddy eris who wants to buy the world for you, and who goes crazy when you refuse, because you want a real relationship with him, but can't imagine how you survive with your small salary :(

All I Want is You

Pairing: Sugardaddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: Read request

Warnings: All fluff, a tinge of jealousy from Eris

A. Note: This writing slump is dragging my by the hair, pls request guys!!

2.8k words.

The soft chime of the café door echoed through the cozy space, and I didn't need to turn to know who it was. The faint, heady scent of smoke and cloves curled around me like a familiar embrace as I finished pouring the last bit of a perfectly brewed evening cup of coffee.

I turned just in time to see Eris shrugging off his winter coat, hanging it neatly on the rack by the door. His amber eyes found me instantly, a slow smirk curling his lips as he approached the counter. My heart, traitorous as ever, skipped at the sight of him, all sharp edges and commanding presence wrapped in a sleek, tailored suit.

"My favorite customer," I greeted, offering him a warm smile as he drummed his ringed fingers along the counter. The simple movement, elegant and deliberate, felt like a reminder of just how effortlessly he commanded attention.

"Your usual?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Please, love," he replied, his voice smooth as velvet. He glanced around the café, his gaze lingering on the subtle upgrades I'd made since his last visit—winter garlands, twinkling lights, and a fresh coat of paint.

I slid the steaming black coffee across the counter, accompanied by a neatly bagged blueberry scone. His favorite.

"You always spoil me," he murmured, eyeing the scone as he reached for his wallet.

I frowned, shaking my head. "Eris, you don't need to pay," I insisted, a soft chuckle escaping me. But he was already pulling out two large bills and sliding them into the tip jar, the gesture as infuriating as it was endearing.

"Eris!" I protested, crossing my arms.

"What?" He took a slow sip of his coffee, his molten gaze watching me from over the rim. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, daring me to argue further.

"You can't just—" I let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair as I locked up the register.

His gaze softened. "You got the heater fixed? I thought the cost was too steep." He gestured toward the corner of the room where warmth now radiated comfortably.

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Emlas helped me fix it."

The name of my co-worker made his jaw tighten, his fingers drumming once against the countertop before stilling. "If you'd let me help you, you wouldn't have to rely on anyone else." His tone was light, but the undercurrent of possessiveness sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned forward, somehow managing to loom over me despite the counter separating us.

"It's bad enough you're driving me around while my car's in the shop—which, no, you can't pay for either," I added quickly, cutting off whatever rebuttal was forming on his lips.

He only smirked, stepping closer. His lips hovered just above mine, and his voice dropped to a low murmur. "Just let me handle it, love."

My resolve wavered under the heat of his gaze, the warmth of his presence pressing against my frayed edges. "But I'd still be relying on you," I argued weakly, pushing off the counter and moving around it to regain some distance.

"I don't know how else to show you how much I love you," he shot back, his smirk widening. "Just let me, please."

Ignoring him, I grabbed the bills from the tip jar and marched back to him. "I'm serious, Eris," I said, forcing the cash into his hands. "I don't want your money."

"You already have it, though," he murmured, holding the money loosely in his fingers, his gaze dropping to mine. "What's mine is yours, and what's yours is yours."

"Eris," I groaned, shaking my head. "I don't want what's yours. I just want you."

His amber eyes flickered, something raw and unguarded crossing his face for the briefest moment before he spoke again. "You have me," he said, his voice quiet but firm as if it were an unshakable truth. His hand came up to cup my cheek, tilting my head back so I couldn't look away. "So why won't you just let me give you everything?"

"Because..." My voice faltered, and I swallowed hard before continuing. "Because I need to know you'll still love me if I have nothing."

His brows furrowed, and then he exhaled a quiet laugh, the sound low and warm. "My girl," he whispered, leaning down and brushing his lips against mine in a featherlight kiss, tender and deliberate. "Of course I will."

My cheeks flushed as he pulled back, his molten gaze drinking in my flustered expression. "But I hate seeing you so stressed," he murmured, his hands sliding to my waist. "Let me take care of it."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but he was faster, slipping the bills into my back pocket with a smirk. "Eris!" I scolded, but his free hand slid into my other pocket, his fingers curling around the curve of my ass to keep me close.

"It's more for me than you," he teased, his lips brushing against my ear. "I'll feel better knowing you don't have to shoulder everything alone."

I sighed, leaning into him despite myself, his warmth chasing away the chill that had lingered all day. "You never give up," I muttered, burying my face against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath my cheek, grounding me in a way that nothing else could.

"And you love me for it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "Now, let me take you home where I can spoil you properly."

I huffed, my arms tightening around his waist. "Fine, but no more money."

"Then what is it you want?" He replied, his chuckle vibrating against me.

"A warm meal, and possibly a glass of wine. It's been a long day." I say through a long breath. "And maybe some cuddling too—" I add, smiling up at him but his teasing smirk makes me half.

"Look at you, askin' for what you want."

"Don't push it, Vanserra." I huff, moving away from him and fetching my jacket from the rack and bundling myself in it—a jacket Eris had bought me as a winter present, I told him seasonal presents weren't a thing, but he persisted in one every time the leaves changed.

He grabbed his coffee and scone off the counter then followed me outside into the frigid air, waiting for me in the cold as I locked the doors to the cafe.

His car—a sleek, obsidian-black luxury sedan—was parked right outside, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights. He'd insisted on picking me up tonight, even though I'd told him it wasn't necessary and that I could walk the half mile. But he got his way in the end.

He opened the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. "Your chariot awaits, love," he teased, gesturing for me to step in with an exaggerated bow.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my smile as I slid into the warm, leather seat. The interior smelled faintly of him—with the faintest hint of something woodsy. It was both intoxicating and familiar.

As he slid into the driver's seat and started the car, he reached over, ringed fingers placing themselves over my leg, tracing shapes along my inner thigh. "You know, you're setting the bar ridiculously high for yourself," I said, buckling my seatbelt.

"Good." He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "I'd hate for you to think you deserve anything less."

I shook my head, but the warmth in my chest was undeniable. "You know I'm perfectly happy with less."

"Which is precisely why you deserve more," he countered, pulling out onto the quiet street. The city lights blurred past the windows, their glow soft against the dark sky.

Eris turned the car down the winding driveway to our home, the snow-covered pines lining the path like sentinels guarding some secret, magical retreat. His thumb tapped against the leather of the steering wheel, a nervous habit he likely thought I didn't notice.

"You know, I still think you're compensating for something with this car," I teased, breaking the silence as I sank into the heated seat.

His lips quirked up in that signature smirk, his amber eyes glancing at me briefly before returning to the road. "And here I thought you liked the car."

"I like it," I admitted, propping my elbow on the door and resting my chin in my hand. "I just think it screams Eris Vanserra: Look at me, I'm loaded."

He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar. "You think people need a car to know that?"

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Fair point."

The driveway opened up, and the sprawling estate came into view. Snow blanketed the grounds, the glow of the house's lights spilling out like a beacon. It was a sight I'd grown used to, but it still managed to take my breath away sometimes.

Eris parked the car and stepped out, rounding to my side to open my door before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt. I raised a brow at him as I stepped out. "You're really laying it on thick tonight, aren't you?"

He didn't respond, just placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the house. God, how his brothers would tear him to shreds if they could see him like this.

Inside, the warmth hit me immediately, the fire in the living room crackling softly. I shrugged out of my coat, handing it to him without a second thought as I kicked off my boots, left them by the door, and headed toward the kitchen.

"Wine or tea?" I called over my shoulder, knowing full well he likely left his coffee in the car.

"You," he replied smoothly, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a smirk that made my cheeks heat.

I groaned, shaking my head as I reached for a bottle of red wine. "You're so cheesy."

"And yet, here we are."

I poured two glasses and handed him one, leaning against the counter as I sipped mine. He stood across from me, watching me like I was the only thing that existed in the room, wine untouched.

"What?" I asked, arching a brow.

"Just admiring," he said, his tone casual but his gaze anything but.

I rolled my eyes, pushing off the counter and heading toward the living room. "Come on, love. You can admire me from the couch."

He followed, settling beside me on the plush sofa. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that only seemed to enhance the sharp angles of his face. I tucked my legs beneath me, sipping my wine as I stared into the flames.

"I don't get you," he said suddenly, his voice soft.

I glanced at him, tilting my head. "What do you mean?"

"You're sitting in this house—a house most people would dream of—drinking wine from my family's personal vineyard, and yet..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hands. "You don't care about any of it."

"Of course, I don't," I said, setting my glass on the table and turning to face him. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, Eris. I didn't fall in love with your house or your car or your money. I fell in love with you."

He looked at me then, and for a moment, I saw past the confident, sharp-tongued lord and into the man who still doubted whether he deserved to be loved for who he was.

"I know," he said quietly. "But I wish you'd let me show you how much you mean to me."

"You already do," I replied, reaching out to take his hand. His fingers threaded through mine automatically, his touch warm and grounding.

"Not enough," he murmured, his gaze searching mine.

I squeezed his hand, leaning closer. "Eris. You don't have to prove anything to me. I see you. I know you. That's enough for me."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. Instead, he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. "You deserve everything, love," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I flipped over, throwing my leg over his hips and straddling his lap. "I already have everything," I murmured, my free hand coming to cup his jaw.

He smiled faintly, pulling me closer. "You're so cheesy, you know that?"

"Learned from the best," I teased, earning a low chuckle from him as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

And at that moment, as the fire crackled and the snow fell quietly outside, I knew that no matter how much Eris wanted to give me, the only thing I'd ever need was him.

Eris shifted on the couch, pulling me closer until I was practically lying on top of him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my lower back, exposed by the riding up of my shirt. The soft crackle of the fire filled the silence, and I couldn't help but smile as his chin came to rest on the top of my head.

"You're in a particularly clingy mood tonight," I teased, resting my hand on his chest. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath my palm, grounding and soothing all at once.

"Am I not allowed to hold my favorite person in the world?" he countered, the faintest hint of a pout in his tone.

I laughed softly, tilting my head to look up at him. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Cute?" His brows shot up, his expression full of mock offense. "Darling, I am many things, but cute is not one of them."

"Oh, you're definitely cute," I said, grinning as I reached up to trace the strong line of his jaw. "Especially when you do that little pouty thing when you don't get your way."

He narrowed his eyes at me, but there was no real heat in his gaze. "Don't be ridiculous, I always get my way."

"Is that right?" I asked innocently, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw.

His breath hitched, and I smiled against his skin, satisfied that I could still fluster him after all this time. "Love," he murmured, his voice lower now, raspier.

I pulled back, settling into his embrace once more. "Hm?"

"I know what you're doing," he said with a soft laugh, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

We sat like that for a while, the warmth of the fire and his arms lulling me into a content haze. His hand slid up beneath my shirt, his touch so natural and familiar it made my chest ache with affection.

I knew it was hard for him to show admiration after growing up in the same house as his father, knew the only way he thought he was worthy of me was if he bought that love, like he's always done, but I wasn't interested in anything else except him and seeming him smile, which coincidently happens the most when I let him buy me things. It was hard to show my gratitude when I was denying him every time.

"You're thinking too hard," he said after a while, his lips brushing against my temple.

"Am not," I mumbled, though I wasn't entirely convincing.

He hummed, clearly not believing me. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

I hesitated, not because I didn't want to tell him, but because I wasn't sure how to put it into words. Eventually, I settled on the simplest truth. "I just really love you, Eris."

His grip on me tightened slightly, and when I looked up at him, his expression was softer than I'd ever seen it. "I love you, too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I think I'll ever be able to show you."

"You don't have to show me," I said, smiling as I leaned up to kiss him. "I already know."

He kissed me back, slow and sweet, like we had all the time in the world. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

"You're my everything, you know that?" he murmured.

"You've mentioned it a few times," I teased, though my voice was thick with emotion.

He smiled, pressing another kiss to my lips before pulling me back against his chest. "Good. I'll keep saying it until you believe me."

"I already do," I whispered, closing my eyes and letting myself relax fully into him.

And as we sat there, wrapped up in each other, I realized there was no place I'd rather be than here, in his arms, with nothing but love between us.

[icallhimjoey]

I miss poppy and mark still and I miss that version of joe (and always bookstore joe) but that joe please he was such an idiot😭 I miss him and this is all your fault (said with so much love bye going to reread everything (again))

ok so it took me a good second, but, here you go bby <3 to the girls unfamiliar with poppy and mark: maybe have a look here Wordcount: 2.3K

---

Won’t Say It Until You Will

Sometimes you still don’t quite understand how you’ve gone literal years thinking Joe couldn’t fucking stand you.

You’d gotten so used to his stand-offish demeanor. To the arrogant smirks you’d catch just before he’d bite them back, just in time for Poppy or Mark to notice. To his overall unapproachability, and the heavy judgment that would drip off of him.

For years you thought you didn’t like Joe, simply because you were convinced Joe didn’t like you.

Didn’t like you as a person.

As Mark’s friend.

As someone that, through Mark falling for Poppy, was going to be in his life now.

You think you’re still adjusting to the sudden change. And the change was definitely sudden. Learning that, actually, Joe was trying to keep as much distance as he possibly could for the exact opposite of what you thought had been quite the shock. You might be adjusting for a while longer, still.

Which makes sense.

It is all quite the adjustment.

Joe used to be so weird around you, and you were always left to figure out why all by yourself.

The big difference now, though, is that every time Joe sees that you doubt yourself in whatever interaction you have with him, he’s quick to set the record straight.

He’s not allowed to say I love you yet.

You have to say it first for it to feel normal. Granted, barely anything about how this started feels normal to begin with. But this is something you hold onto. You tell him to shut up all the time, because you have come to know this look Joe will throw you.

This soft, adoring sort of dreamy stare Joe has a hard time containing. It’s truly quite something to be looked at like you’re the single best thing in current existence to someone. Like you’ve got shimmery diamonds and liquid gold where your heart should be.

It’s a shame it makes you frown the way it does.

“Shut up.” You’ll warn before he’s even gotten the chance to say anything.

And Joe used to reply with, “I didn’t say anything.”

That has since changed to a very dopey, a very smiley, “Okay.” that makes your nose scrunch.

Joe knows the rule.

Won’t say it until you will, no matter how many times the words will pop into his head and will beg to be released into your ears via his mouth. It’s nothing short of agony, because there’s moments where you’ll look at him like you used to. Before. When he kept his distance and would say the wrong thing, crack an unfunny joke that accidentally hurt your feelings, and – God, if he could just say those words and put your mind at ease the way the so desperately wants to...

He’s found different ways.

Has had to find different ways.

If you can’t hear the words, that’s fine. He’ll make you feel them just the same.

When you get into bed, one night, over at Joe’s place, you suddenly pause, halfway in.

“What?” Joe asks, already sort of smiling at your expression as he slides his legs under the covers on his side of the bed.

“Remember when...” you start, and immediately Joe’s aware that this can go one of two ways. You could either end up a giggling heap underneath the covers, or he’s going to end up kissing you silly to reassure every doubt from your mind.

You glance at one of his wardrobe doors and squint your eyes a little.

Joe’s scared it’s going to be the latter of the two options.

“I’ve actually never seen you wear that shirt again– have you...” you don’t finish whatever you were about to ask, and instead walk around the bed to check something. To see for yourself.

“What shirt?” Joe asks, sat up in bed, both hands in his lap over the covers, tongue pushing into his cheek as he watches you open the wardrobe.

You’re met with a meticulously well-organised row of shirts, jackets– Joe’s even got all of his trousers and jeans folded over hangers. All pressed and ironed, ready to make Joe look far smarter than he’ll feel.

You used to fall for it all the time, but you’ve since learned to see through most of it.

“How often do you get rid of clothes?” you ask, hands filtering through.

“All the time,” Joe says a little sheepishly, and jokingly adds, “You know I really only like... three things.”

Joe watches you filter through hangers at lightning speed, metal wire gliding over the rod and clanging together in your search.

You’re looking for something specific. Unsure of what made the thought pop into your head, you’d just remembered a specific shirt Joe wore once and wanted to see if he still had it. If there was maybe a reason why you hadn’t seen him wear it ever since that one night.

And, morning.

“Hmm... it’s not here.”

“What shirt are you even talking about?”

 You throw Joe a look over your shoulder, eyes squinted, and for a moment you look like you’re contemplating something. Like you’re milling something over.

Then, suddenly, Joe gets it. He knows exactly what you’re looking for, and is immediately embarrassed.

“Oh. Yea, no. Do you mean the white– my white button down? I, um… that shirt, it’s… you’re right, it’s not– it’s not there.”

Joe stutters through a bad excuse, and for an actor, he’s a fucking terrible liar. You shove aside some of his jackets, and then…

“Come back to bed, please.”

There it is.

The white button down shirt you were looking for.

You grab the hanger and pull it out, ready to happily show Joe you found it, but as you move the fabric into the light, you notice it.

See it.

“Found i– oh, my God…”

This is the shirt Joe wore to Mark and Poppy’s wedding shower. The one he said he’d get dry cleaned after he wiped your face with the sleeve, after he dabbed both your make-up covered cheeks. The one of which he’d pulled the cuff into his palm to get the fabric real close under your eyes to get rid of the wet mascara that had traveled there through tears.

You’d shown him the brown and black marks right after he’d done it, and he’d said he was going to get it dry-cleaned.

“Joe, what the…”

You’re holding a dirty shirt.

Had this stains not come out?

Clearly not.

You’re both looking at a dirty shirt. At old make-up stains that… well, this shirt is ruined. Your eyes quickly glance at the tag in the collar, and you wince.

That is too expensive of a brand for a shirt to be ruined like this.

This is the reason why you hadn’t seen Joe wear it again.

You’d ruined his shirt.

God, and you had even told him that next day, that next morning, that a regular cycle in a machine wash was going to get the stains out fine.

Obviously, it hadn’t.

Because you’re staring at caked blotches of bronzer and dark streaks of mascara and– ... you can feel how you shrink in on yourself, stood there, in his bedroom, with a stupidly expensive badly stained shirt he’d been hiding from you because he hadn’t been able to get it clean and–

Upon the sight of your face dropping, Joe gets out of bed, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Um.. I’ll have that.”

Two slow hands come into vision and carefully take the hanger from your grip.

“Thanks.”

The shirt, in all its dirty glory, gets gently put back in its place, hidden behind Joe’s jackets, before Joe closes the wardrobe doors entirely.

“Sorry,” is all you can think to say, voice small, a little wobbly. “I’m sorry, I thought… I ruined your shirt. That should’ve come out in the wash. Sorry. I will– I’ll replace it. I’ll–”

“No you won’t.”

You drop both your shoulders just as Joe grabs hold of both of them. His grip is strong enough to bring you into the room a bit more.

“And don’t look at me like that. I didn’t… that’s… I’ve never washed it.”

What?

“You didn’t ruin the shirt. It’s just unwashed.”

Joe softly chuckles at your face and you get lead back to bed as you try to puzzle together what you’ve just been told. What that even means.

There had been plenty of whispered conversations, late at night chats in the dark, where Joe would reassure you that he had never hated you. The outward dislike had always been an awful way to hide how he really felt, and Joe was going to be kicking himself until the end of time for how that had always make you feel.

Joe is never going to be able to make it right, he thinks.

But he can fucking try.

“That’s…”

“Disgusting? Yes. Absolutely.”

He’ll die trying.

“Why haven’t you…”

You’re scared to finish the question because you fear you already know the answer.

“Didn’t want to. So don’t worry about it.”

You get tucked in as your worries easily get dismissed, but it’s difficult to make your confused frown disappear.

Joe sighs when you keep looking at him like that, sits down on the edge of the bed next to you and goes, “You’ll make fun of me. But... that’s the… that’s what I wore when you slept in my bed for the first time. It’s not ruined. Washing it would ruin it, actually.”

Everything about that is confusing and will take a minute or two for you to process. Now, here, in the moment, it just makes you grimace with horror, and that in and of itself makes Joe laugh. Makes his eyes twinkle as he bites into his lip, head titled back and to the side a little.

He can’t really help it.

“To be fair... you were never meant to find that. Can you not tell Poppy?”

“Okay. I won’t tell Poppy.” You easily agree.

“But you’ll tell Mark?”

“But I’ll tell Mark.”

Joe drops his head forward in a silent laugh. Of course you will tell Mark.

And, that’s fine. Because it’s a memory he’ll cherish forever, even if you were violently drunk that night, and your hair still smelt of vomit even though Mark’s mum had really done her best to rinse most of it out. You had found Joe’s bed on your own, and had pulled him in to nap with you and– ...he doesn’t think that it was the exact moment where things changed a little, but it was a moment momentous enough to want to keep a souvenir.

It’s why he never washed the dirty button down shirt that proved to him he hadn’t dreamt it up.

He’ll never tell you how he also still has the empty yoghurt carton he had found in his kitchen after you’d left the next morning.

And he’ll also ignore the weird fall out you had after when he lied to Poppy about it. That’s not part of the memory.

Only the good stuff.

Like how he’d barely slept at all.

How he’d gotten to stare at you all night long.

How he’d finally, after hours of collecting courage, had softly let one of his fingertips stroke along the skin of your arm.

How that made you hum contently in your sleep.

If he thinks about it for too long, he could easily make himself cry. Looking at you now, all relaxed into the pillows of his bed, he could make himself cry.

When Joe looks at you a little too long without saying anything, dopey grin and all, your frown only deepens.

“Shut up.”

Joe knows it was bound to be said, but it still tickles him and he lets a throaty laugh escape him before he turns faux-serious.

“Ah. It’s made a return.” Joe scans your features and talks like he’s in a film, speaking to a villain. “That face. Are you even aware of how powerful it is? Makes me feel how much my soul wants to escape my body.”

That gets a little grin out of you, and it’s cute enough for Joe to want to tell the whole entire world how much he loves you. He wonders if you know how much it pains him. How often he can feel the scratch of the words in his throat, the violent urge to just let them free ever present.

But he won’t.

You’d just told him to shut up, so he will shut up, and instead will let those three words seep out in other ways. Through his hands that wander up to your neck. Through his fingers that swipe under your jaw, tipping your head back a little so he can easily kiss you.

You happily accept his kisses, because even though you’re still adjusting to all these little changes in your truth, it all ultimately means that Joe really, really likes you.

Really, really, really likes you.

And of course you know it’s more than that to Joe.

And that he really wants to tell you already.

But he’s not allowed.

Not yet.

Which is fine. He can just kiss you. And he will. Like he’s doing right now.

Joe still can’t quite believe he’s kissing you in his bed, and he can’t believe there was ever a time where he wasn’t.

When he pulls back, still sat on the side instead of under the covers with you, he hovers over you a little. Gives you a quiet moment, just in case you want to tell him.

And you will.

With time.

But not now.

“Shut up.” you repeat, giggling now at how lovesick he looks, and Joe can’t help grin in the way that he does.

He used to reply with, “I didn’t say anything.”

Instead he says, “Okay.” and goes for another kiss when he sees your nose scrunch.

Joe knows the rule.

Won’t say it until you will.

---

The Taglisted

@almightywdm, @alwayslindie, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @dailyobsession

@eddies-puppet, @elvendria, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee

@ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @gri959, @hazelenys, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @kravitzwhore, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia

@mandyjo8719, @munsonluvrr, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles

@notverywise, @overthinking-raccoon, @pepperstories, @pinchofhoney, @readergf

@royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

Add yourself

[akawifeyy]

LOVESICK | smau pt.2 (AKA12)

description: it's getting harder for you and kimi antonelli to deny your attraction to one another. but even the best-laid plans can go awry.

tropes: best friend's little sister, childhood friends, one-sided love, ob87 sister!reader

face claim: daniela avanzini

trigger warnings: suggestive content, hate speech (misogyny & covert death threats), swearing

| note: ahh this was a crazy smau to write 😞 also this is part 2 / 3 fics!

@ yourusername: out and about

tagged: @ f1, @ olliebearman, @ kimiantonelli

comments (394):

@ user1: help why did she post a big ass pic of the mercedes team logo? 💀

-> @ user2: Didn't you see she also tagged Kimi? I hate to be nosy, but like... This is getting a little...

@ olliebearman: No picture of me in my Haas is crazy

-> @ yourusername: maybe if you won, i would include it in my posts 💁🏼‍♀️

-> @ user3: DAMN GIRL

@ user4: the nails eattt 👀👀

@ f1gossip: Rookie Kimi Antonelli has been spotted with best friend Ollie Bearman's twin sister, Y/N! Wonder what the Haas driver thinks of this...

tagged: @ kimiantonelli, @ yourusername, @ f1wags

comments (245):

@ user4: this is such an appalling invasion of privacy. what happened to respect and decency?? why are we lwk stalking ppl now??

-> @ user5: HELP it's just one pic? 😭

-> @ user4: imagine if someone was doing this to you. i feel so bad for y/n and kimi 🙁

@ user6: They're soooo cute together omgg

@ user7: sigh, i can't even be jealous. she's literally y/n 😩

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (2025):

comments (1984):

@ user8: bruh this is just rage bait, no one knows if she actually was with any other driver 😒

-> @ user9: Yeah Lando has said before that they were just good friends but that Y/N was too young for him

-> @ user10: the fling w paul might be true but it's never been confirmed either 🧐

@ user11: I honestly believe it tbh. She seems like the kinda girl to go around and fuck a ton of guys

-> @ user8: this is so disgusting i might puke 🤮

Instagram conversation between Y/N and a hate account:

@ yourusername has temporarily deactivated their account. (June 13, 2025)

comments (127):

@ user12: NOOO STAYYY PLS WE NEED YOU 🙏🙏

@ olliebearman: Love you sis, sorry you have to deal with all of this.

@ user6: chat I just failed a chem exam and now I see this? Worst day of my life

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (2025):

comments (3329):

@ user14: i hope she comes back. i'll fight every hate bot and troll till she does 🤺

-> @ user1: We'll miss her

-> @ user9: her life is no one's business. I hope she finds peace and solace after all of this because the internet is a cruel place

@ user15: This is what happens when ppl don't realize how lucky they are. Y/N doesn't owe us anything.

-> @ user11: I don't know why everyone cares about this so much, Y/N is another nepo baby who's just popular bc of her face and body 🧍‍♀️

Further excerpt from the Instagram conversation between Y/N and a hate account:

@ kimiantonelli: So thankful to be P5 in Montreal!

tagged: @ f1, @ mercedes

comments (694):

@ user16: Help he's so dry

-> @ user9: we all know why smh... 😵‍💫

@ olliebearman: Great job!

@ user17: Not seeing Y/N in the comments feels so wronggg

-> @ user18: ikkk i'm so sad 🥲

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (Three weeks later):

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[illbegottenfaith]

kiss me better, love

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (theo nott x reader)

a/n - valentines fic #2 !!!! thought of this idea in a class literally 5 hours ago and idk if its the sleep deprivation but this is sooo self-indulgent writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet frfr 😭 all I have to say is if this isnt me and my future partner I dont want him I send him BACK

tropes/warnings - physical touch as a love language, angry theo but also soft theo 🥰🥰 no (read: minimal) proof reading we die like men etc etc

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts @friedfreyfries @allie-sturns

The door shuts behind you both, plunging the room into near-darkness. You barely take a step before bumping into Theo, your knee knocking against his thigh, your hands flying to his shoulders as you stumble.

"Merlin,” he mutters, steadying you with a grip at your waist. “Can you - ”

“You're the one barging into me,” you shoot back, tucking a lock behind your ear as you tighten your grip on Theo’s shoulder, making him wince.

“Anyway, like I was saying, it hasn’t even been a week since Missy - ”

Theo exhales sharply, blindly reaching for the zipper at your back. “Is this something I really need to be hearing right now?” he asks somewhat waspishly.

“Yes.” You barely register his tone, still preoccupied. “So I walk into Charms in Tuesday, expecting to find Josh understandably distraught and/or in mourning. But who do I see him chatting up instead?"

"Hair."

You gather your hair up in one hand to hold it up and go right on talking. You barely notice Theo's largely ineffective attempts at pushing your sleeves off your shoulders.

"Pansy Parkinson! Pansy flipping Parkinson. What, does he think he's a free man now or something? Melissa's halfway across the world, she's not dead."

"Mhm."

You sigh exaggeratedly at his lackluster responses.

“Well? Don't you have to anything to add?"

“Yeah - hold still.” You This is just ridiculous, Theo was thinking. What kind of dress needed buttons and a zip?

You huff, switching your hair to your other hand. “Honestly, Theo, have you listened to a single thing I’ve been saying the past hour?”

Theo groans, still fumbling at your lower back. He had figured out the buttons were decorative, bless him, but your dress was on the more delicate side, and if he ripped it, he'd never hear the end of it. “Uh, yeah, that Abernathy guy...he’s two-timing Melissa?"

“He is not,” you say, peering over your shoulder to see what was taking Theo so long. Seriously, what was going on back there? It doesn't help, though, not when you can barely make him out in the dark. “not yet at least. He might. And if he's going to, well, isn't it better she finds out now rather than ten years down the road? Or am I an awful friend for thinking that?"

"Thinking what?" Theo asks distractedly.

"Willing my best friend's boyfriend into cheating on her."

Before he can formulate a response, your stubborn zipper finally decides to cooperate and moves down an inch - snagging at his finger. A sharp hiss cuts through the dark, followed by some emphatic, muttered swearing.

You pause.

“…what was that?”

Theo slips his injured finger out of his mouth briefly, his voice strained as he struggles to keep the pain out of his tone. “Nothing.”

You shift slightly, trying to catch his expression in the dark, but he’s suspiciously still now, his hands nowhere on you anymore.

“Theo.”

“I’m fine.”

Your brow furrows. Then, his suddenly subdued demeanour and oddly neutral tone clicks in your head.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

There’s an immediate rustle, followed by Theo’s very delayed attempt at nonchalance.

“…no.”

Oh, you could throttle him. “Was it the zip again?”

“You keep saying that like I do it intentionally - I never mean to-”

“And now you're trying to suck the pain away like a child?”

“Would you rather I bleed all over your dress?”

“I’d rather you watch what you’re doing so you don’t get maimed by a bloody zip in the first place!”

Theo exhales sharply, his frustration palpable. “I keep telling you - I don't-”

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“First, you burn yourself on my curling iron -”

“Okay, one, you shouldn't be leaving your things out like that.”

“Then you cut yourself opening a tin of biscuits -”

Theo tips his head back in exasperation. “You sh - you literally shoved it at me!”

“ - and now my zipper is out to get you?” You throw your hands up. “What are you telling me, Teddy? That every item I own has a personal vendetta against you?”

"Mattheo agrees with me, you know," you continue smugly, in a so-there kind of tone. "He told me about that time you nearly broke your neck falling down that flight of stairs on the way to Transfiguration, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't - "

"Rushing, I know." Theo steps back as if to escape. “Merlin, you are insufferable - ”

“And you are reckless.”

“I don't need you to lecture me.”

“You’d be fine if you just listened to m - show me your finger.”

A brief struggle ensues.

You lunge; he sidesteps. You fumble blindly for his hand; he twists out of reach.

“For fuck’s sake -”

“Stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, you’re being a menace.”

“At least I don't get mauled by zippers.”

“I'm telling you, that zipper has it out for me."

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always in such a bloody rus - ”

“Enough with the rushing!”

“I can't help it if you never learn - ”

“I do learn,” he snaps, stepping back further - only for you to grab onto his wrist and pull.

There’s a shuffle, a scuffle as Theo stumbles back into the dresser with a thud.

“Oi - ”

“Oh, stop squirming, you big baby.”

“You stop grabbing- ”

“Theodore, you are injured. Act like it.”

“I am n- ”

“Then give me your hand.”

A long, heavy pause. Then -

“No.”

You groan, exasperated. “Merlin, you are the most - ”

“And you are relentless - ”

But at last, in an impressive show of determination, you manage to latch onto his wrist, wrenching his hand towards you before he can twist away again. Theo groans in frustration, but you’ve already found the wound—his fingertip, warm and damp against yours.

“Oh, for - ” You tighten your grip as he tries to pull away. “You are bleeding!”

Theo tenses, his entire body bristling. “It’s nothing.”

“On my zipper,” you say incredulously. “Again.”

He exhales sharply as if this is somehow your fault. “You don’t need to make a whole production of it - ”

“I told you to be careful - ”

“And I was - ”

“Clearly not enough!”

Theo groans, tipping his head back against the dresser. “I’m buying you a tear-away dress next Valentine’s.”

You bite back a smirk. “I’d like to see you figure that one out.”

He mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re already bringing his hand up, brushing your lips over the wound.

He stills.

The fight, the irritation, the tension - all of it dissolves instantly under your touch.

You press another kiss there, softer this time. Through a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains, he sees your face - your impish expression, your eyes, alight with amusement and plain adoration. You watch his face too - his furrowed brows relaxing, the slight part of his lips, his sharp features softened by something indiscernible.

His eyes flick to yours.

And Merlin, it’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair how you can drive him to the brink of insanity one second and then look at him like that the next, like you could never get your fill. It's enough to make him think you're worth all the trouble you put him through. It's enough to make him want to slow down. Merlin knows the last thing he wants is to rush through his days with you.

“…better?” you murmur against his skin after a moment.

Theo exhales, rolling his eyes as though he isn’t already relenting. "It's a start," he says grudgingly.

Your smile widens as you bring his hand up again, pressing another kiss there, then another, then another.

Theo groans, tipping his head back again, his frustration dwindling with every sympathetic brush of your lips.

“You like this,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, but his voice has softened, his body relaxing into yours.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Then his palm.

Theo groans again, for reasons unrelated to his earlier irritation, his fingers curling at your waist.

You laugh softly. “Want me to kiss you better everywhere?”

Theo smiles weakly, pulling you closer. “That's the best idea you've had all night."

[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

[11queensupreme11]

I Need to know what the other siblings think of dory!! To they have beef with him like axiandros or to they just not care for him?

I need to know the yan opinion on dory especially hades!! To they like him bcs he is basically Percy 2.0 or they hate him for being Poseidon son?

BEELCY babies! I need to see how the other beelcy babies look like!

P.s. you are an ✨AMAZING WRITER ✨ your writing is chefs kiss✨

axiandros: he has the most intense beef with eudorios ever and the funniest part is that it's ONE-SIDED 😭😭😭 dory does not give a shit, he's too busy being smothered by his mother's affections to even notice his eldest bro silently seething in a dark corner LMAO 😭 just seeing dory ruins his day. he hates the way dory looks, acts, smells, BREATHES. dory could literally be walking down the hall and goes "morning, ax! 😄" and axiandros would mutter "disgusting, deplorable piece of shit 😠🔱" and poor dory's like:

"what'd i do????? 🥺" 😭😭😭😭

kymon: mildly irritated. there are very few places he likes to be in and that's either his bedroom or by his mother's side cuz that's where he's most at peace, but in comes fucking DORY again whining and whimpering for mother to pay attention to him 🙄 he rolls his eyes and shows the barest hint of annoyance whenever he sees dory ambling towards them and is already teleporting away because he knows his presence beside their mother only makes dory more annoying and he does not want to deal with that 💀

thalassandros: "can you fuck off, you little shit???????" no seriously, dory spent HOURS with their mother yesterday, it's his turn now, this is SO unfair ugh 😒 he would absolutely hit dory and tell him to screw off, only to get scolded by their mother but he doesn't actually mind cuz you know... mother doesn't actually BEAT THEM unlike a certain asshole (looking at you, bitch (poseidon) 🖕) plus, mom's paying attention to him now, so a win is a win lmao.

as for the yans......

hades actually adores eudorios! mainly because, in his eyes, eudorios is the sweetest of the posy kids. he's so much like percy and is NOTHING like poseidon. ofc, he has no idea that dory is actually completely insane, but oh well! 💀

beelzebub does not like eudorios. he literally gets the tingle every time that kid is around, and he KNOWS that dory's more evil than he looks. he may act all sweet and uwu like percy, but he knows the kid's actually super fucked up inside. tries to warn percy to be more careful, but she loves her son too much to abandon him or let beel get rid of him

loki is another one who knows the kid's unhinged LMAO 😂😂 literally took one good look at him and immediately sensed the insanity asdgvajdf lowkey entertained by percy's naivety but also hopes this doesn't end TOO badly

anubis likes dory a lot! eudorios is his favorite amongst the posy kids cuz he's just sooo nice and friendly! he reminds him so much of his beloved mate 💖💖💖 (reminder: gods don't have souls so anubis can't tell the type of person dory actually is 💀)

cú chulainn is..... somewhat okay with eudorios. he acknowledges that dory is definitely the nicest out of all of the posy kids, but he just can't help but feel that something's..... off with him, but he just can't put his finger on it. he keeps a close eye on him whenever he's around, but other than that, treats him decently

apollo considers dory his favorite amongst the posy kids just like many of the yans do lmao. he's just a sweet kid, what's not to like? he's always nice to him and his children whenever he's around. sure he's a little clingy towards percy, but she's his mom so it's only natural!!!

poseidon is THIS close 🤏 to bashing eudorios' head open. he has no idea where he and percy went wrong with him. he's infuriating and an embarrassment in poseidon's eyes (which is ironic considering he's literally like PERCY who poseidon absolutely adores 💀)

beelcy and poki babies are coming!!! dw. poki babies are mostly ready so they'll come first

[craziertogether]

mike’s behavior shift & byler endgame confirmation

little yap moment (long rant):

just to start, i wanna say that i was a m*leven lover from s1-s2. given i was young asl, it was a wonderful ship for kids, but as i’ve grown and gotten more into analyses for media it has become clearer to me why my dislike of mike wheeler’s character despite my love for him originally, actually came from a lack of understanding.

so yeah, i truly think the moment i started developing my own byler agenda was in season 3. i had always known that will was queer, season 1 episode 1 with joyce and episode 4 with troy, it was just so clear to me. but i never saw it actually developing into a love story, i actually saw it as a little bit of queerbait when i saw the “crazy together” scene (ik crazy to say but i was also literally 11). but season 3, was like a huge smack in the face that oh mike is 100% the queer one WITH some kind of feelings towards will. i love how we as bylers joke about it? but truly will’s feelings for mike were so masked it’s insane to me.

back to my rant, i was a little caught off guard by mike’s CRAZY behavior switch from likable friend and leader to el’s personal make-out buddy and actual hater of his own best friends (mind you mike was always my favorite character originally, he was the protagonist that was a little unlikable but that’s my favorite kind of character). it wasn’t until my rewatch recently that i totally clicked for me again that mike was so in love with will, i can’t remember who mentioned it but mike inviting will to his house after el dumped him was absolutely unnecessary, lucas was needed but mike just had will there because of his genuine need for will to be there. rain fight outburst and post breakup crawling back to will was so clear that mike valued will on a level unbeknownst to anyone else around him. even beyond the el breakup, mike is lowkey such an ass to everyone else 😭. he needed to be guided by everyone else to apologize to el, lucas, and dustin. but will was like air to mike, he breathes will, the second he hurts will, he immediately crawls back to him because he knows at the minimum that will’s feelings are greater than his own arrogance.

and now season 4? there are so many wonderful analyses out there regarding mikes straight up queer behavior, but i really feel like this season is what fully converted me. btw i was still afraid of this possibility of queerbaiting, i had a strong feeling that maybe i was still reading into it too much but when will’s feeling were CONFIRMED in the first like minute, i knew in that moment that byler endgame was real. like i said above the way will’s queerness was clear to me was no shock, but seeing it be visually shown that he was IN LOVE with mike i was truly convinced in that moment that this was it, they were setting them up to be THE endgame couple. (ps i had NOT interacted with any byler content until very recently, i just had this instinct). and after now having read the analyses and rewatch the season again, i literally felt like my eyes were opened and like the show was spelling it out for us. the california plot line being the MOST boring without byler development, the fights and apologies, the heart to hearts, and van scene all just either fed my confirmation bias or proved to all audiences that this is what we need to be looking at. it is insane that season 4 has like 6 incredibly byler focused deep moments and there’s still byler doubt in my opinion. anyways yeah back to my original point the complete decline in mike’s character development the last two seasons completely confirmed it for me in my most recent rewatch. there was no reason to absolutely nerf his character like that, and if they do set up m*leven endgame, i actually will have lost respect for the duffers but also for my favorite character. but i have full faith that this show would not destroy everything it spent the last decade building up to.

TLDR: byler endgame is imminent and as a once byler skeptic and even m*levin fan, i cannot wait to see this story wrap up in season 5. i need the trailer, actually the whole season but the trailer will do for now.

[meanbossart]

Triple question here (started as one, then I got to thinking).

We've all seen Bhaalist Drow (that man can get it), but what would an Absolutist Drow look like? How'd he turn out if he controls the Elder Brain?

Alternatively, what would the dynamic between Bhaalist Drow and Ascended Astarion be like? Or AA and non-Bhaalist drow?

This is kind of a cop-out, but the supposed aftermath of the "control the brain" endings are really boring to me 😭 don't get me wrong, the actual cinematics and lines since patch 7 are AWESOME, but I can't think of any interesting followups after you become the literal absolute leader of the whole Sword Coast, y'know? Maybe that's a failure on my part.

Which is why in DU drow's evil ending I canonize that he can't fully control the brain with the stones - but he can keep it UNDER control and therefore uses it as a bargaining chip to further his own political games on the long-run and govern with fear.

Regardless of alignment, post-amnesia DU drow is always strongly opposed to the concept of the Absolute and relying on a more powerful force to achieve his goals (besides his own father). He used to be on-board with it pre-game, but that changes after everything that happens during the campaign and ESPECIALLY once he finds out how Orin used it to take him down.

So, basically, it's hard for me to come up with an answer to your first question because that would have to be a very different character. There isn't really a version of himself where he becomes that specific brand of evil without Bhaal's influence - even without Shadowheart or Jaheira to lead him down a slightly better path, a redemptive DU drow is more likely to become a full on murderer and cannibal rather than want to strip the earth of the ability to fight back - that's half the fun of it, after all.

As for Ascended Astarion, that's another branching path in this story that I'm still planning on exploring 😇 similarly to how we occasionally dip into the Bhaalist timeline for the drow.

An universe where both AA and Bhaalist DU drow exist would be tricky, since AA gives a tav the ultimatum of either being turned into his spawn or ending the relationship. I realize I could retcon this, but I don't want to - it feels core to that version of his character to want to have control over his partner IMMEDIATELY, and take the rejection as a betrayal. "Normal" DU Drow would never accept to be turned into a vampire spawn - Bhaalist DU drow would take the offer alone as an insult, not to mention do everything in his power to keep Astarion from ascending in the first place.

So, a romantic relationship between Bhaalist DU drow and Ascended Astarion simply wouldn't survive. In fact, I think they would very shortly after kill each other because of the ever-competing size of their egos.

Things wouldn't work too differently between normal DU drow and Ascended Astarion, save for the fact that DU would leave him alive and (hopefully) vice-versa. The person he fell in love with isn't there anymore and now encompasses everything he finds most irritating and off-putting - the exuberance, the pompousness, the thinly veiled desperation - he would lose his patience with AA right off the bat and from that point on they could hardly be in the same room together. Fortunately, Shadowheart and Jaheira would be around to keep DU drow from going off the deep-end after that.

There is one timeline where Ascended Astarion could really thrive, though:

I haven't gone much into the third possible outcome for a Dark Urge yet, but it is one where A.Astarion proposition would seem a lot harder to turn down - if not be the only choice he has left.