and you nameless faceless stranger who did this i love you too

motherofmajesticflapflaps  asked:

Okay stupid question: why do you ship Andras and Lucien? Was there subtext that I, the English major who loves queer theory missed in ACOTR? I mean I'd love to read more fics and your headcanons of this!

omg someone is asking about Landras I’m DELIGHTED. Okay so like when I say I ship it (and I do, dear god I do) it’s…Like I don’t think it’s going to be canon/was ever canon/was ever really hinted at being canon in any way. I just…Enjoy the idea of it? And it adds another layer of angst to ACOTAR and a bit of extra depth to Lucien’s character and his early interactions with Feyre if you read it that way? So I choose to. 

That being said like…I didn’t pull it entirely from nowhere there are lines in ACOTAR that send the wheels a-turning. Which I will now take the time to point out. (Like I said I don’t consider any of this subtext or hinting or foreshadowing or evidence. I’m just like…okay but if you slap a landras lens over this it’s so much more fun to read so this is less…canon interpretation and more…okay but if you look at it like this it’s much more fun) 

“Is Andras dead, then?” (Lucien has….a habit of using snark to cover up his feelings) 


A nod from my captor—savior, whatever he was. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“How?” the stranger demanded, his knuckles white as he gripped his muscled arms.


“An ash arrow,” said the other. His red-haired companion hissed. “The Treaty’s summons led me to the mortal. I gave her safe haven.”
“A girl—a mortal girl actually killed Andras.” Not a question so much as a venom-coated string of words.

[…] 

“You’re joking,” he said quietly. “That scrawny thing brought down Andras with a single ash arrow?”

[…] 

“Did you enjoy killing my friend, human?” the red-haired one said. “Did you hesitate, or was the hatred in your heart riding you too hard to consider sparing him? It must have been so satisfying for a small mortal thing like you to take him down.”

[…]

She brought Andras down? We never should have sent him out there—none of them should have been out there. It was a fool’s mission.” His growl was more bitter than threatening. (Lucien feels guilty for sending Andras across the wall….which gets approximately 1000000x angstier if you consider them having been in a secret ‘in denial about feelings’ relationship beforehand)

 […]

I’m sure her life will be a fine replacement for Andras’s—maybe she can even train with the others on the border.”

A snarl of irritation resonated through the air.

 […]

“Please let me go. There must be—must be some other loophole out of the Treaty’s rules—some other way to atone.”

“Atone?” Lucien said. “Have you even apologized yet?”

Apparently, all attempts to flatter me were dead and gone. So I looked Lucien right in his remaining russet eye and said, “I’m sorry.”

Lucien leaned back in his chair. “How did you kill him? Was it a bloody fight, or just cold-blooded murder?”

My spine stiffened. “I shot him with an ash arrow. And then anordinary arrow through the eye. He didn’t put up a fight. After the first shot, he just stared at me.”

“Yet you killed him anyway—though he made no move to attack you. And then you skinned him,” Lucien hissed. ( :( ) 

[…]

Lucien clicked his tongue. “I’m Tamlin’s emissary for formal uses, but this was Andras’s shift. So someone needed to fill in. It’s an honor to do it.” (he is literally doing his old rounds and calling it an honour I??) 

I swallowed hard. Andras had a place here, and friends here—he hadn’t been just some nameless, faceless faerie. No doubt he was more missed than I was. “I’m … sorry,” I said—and meant it. “I didn’t know what—what he meant to you all.”

Lucien shrugged. (Lucien shrugging is like…Lucien speak for ‘I’m deeply hurt but have no idea how to properly verbalise my emotions so I’m just going to brush them off instead’ see also: the whipping) 

 […]

“No, no. Andras was High Fae, too. Tam can shift us into other shapes if need be. He saves it for his sentries only, though. When Andras went across the wall, Tam changed him into a wolf so he wouldn’t be spotted as a faerie. Though his size was probably indication enough.”

A shudder went down my spine, violent enough that I didn’t acknowledge the red-hot glare Lucien lobbed my way.

 […]

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras’s old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn’t seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. (aaaand he keeps doing Andras’s patrol. It’s fine. I’m fine.) 

[…]

The wolf—Andras had just … stared at me before I killed him. Let me kill him. (Not exactly Landras related but let’s just TAKE A MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT MY BRAVE WOLF BOY OKAY? And also Andras doing this so Lucien could be safe :) that’s fun too :) ) 

 Literally none of this really implies anything more than a deep friendship between Lucien and Andras (which…makes me feel things in itself because fuck me Lucien needed someone on his side at the Spring Court, someone who might actually care about him) But it’s fun to imagine there was more between them. (And by ‘fun’ I mean deeply and utterly agonising, my soul is in pieces, please join me in the pit of despair. There’s plenty of room. 

And if you want more headcanons that are purely headcanons and nothing to do with the text…let me know I have plenty. 

and I’ll write to you too

sequel to write to me

for @panda013​, @gigiree​, @matchaball, and to all who wanted another part.

soulmate au where if you draw on your skin, the other can see


He’s six when he dreams of a girl with blue eyes and black hair whose smile is just as pretty as starlight. She’s little like him, if not littler and he wants nothing more than to be her friend. So, when he wakes up from the most perfect dream where he holds her hand and they just play, he cries and mourns and shouts when he realizes he’s all alone. 

Keep reading

An Open Letter

This is an open letter to both the Stand with Ward/Ward Warriors/Grantstanders as well as their opposition.  This letter isn’t meant to settle any debate, let alone start one, it’s an effort to describe why it is that I “stand with Ward”

First, a little background.  I’m 33, married, and have two beautiful children.  I know a lot of people feel people stand with Ward due to the attractiveness of Brett Dalton, the actor who portrays Ward on TV, and yes, I’m confident enough in my sexuality to say he’s an attractive man, but that’s not the reason I’m able to identify with and like the character.  And yes, I’m able to separate the actor from the character.

I stand with Ward because I do identify with the character.  I grew up in a similar situation that included physical, mental, and sexual abuse.  I don’t know how many people in either camp have dealt with abuse, but it totally colors the way you see the world and how you interact with it. Decades separated from my abuse, it still affects what I do, how I interact with people, and how I deal with my emotions.  The most important thing to keep in mind is that it severely limits your ability to form connections to people.  At least in my case it did.

I’ve struggled my whole life to just simply connect to other humans.  This isn’t to say I can’t and I haven’t, it just seems incredibly difficult for me.  At times, I’ve been in wholly unhealthy relationships because I had convinced myself that I had finally connected to someone.  I said and did things that were not me, trying to please someone else, worried that they would leave if I didn’t do and say what I thought they wanted, and then I’d find myself alone again.  I see that in the Ward character.  After being abused and neglected for years at the hands of his family, he finally found someone he connected to, Garrett.  He was desperate to not lose that connection, so did anything he could to please him.  People who have not been abused can’t understand the depths of loneliness abused people go through.  Being abused by family makes it even more difficult to connect with and open up to people.  If the group of people that are supposed to love, accept, and care for you are the one’s abusing you, how do you ever open yourself up to a stranger?  I got lucky and found friends who accepted me for me and I’ve been able to recover some.  I’m never going to be completely healthy, but I’m better.  In Ward’s case, the person he connected to turned out to be an abuser as well.  Someone who just wanted to exploit and use Ward for his skills.  An asset.  To Garrett, Ward was like a fast car or accurate gun.  A tool to be used in certain situations.  But that’s not how Ward saw Garrett.  Garrett was a lifeline.  Someone to pull Grant out of the darkness and to give him a life of his own  He was too close to the previous abuse to realize he was being abused again.  

And then he was planted on Coulson’s team.  At first he was there, just doing his job.  Trying to make Garrett, the one that had rescued him, happy.  But he started forming connections with the team.  He got to know them, and little by little, he let them in as well.  He formed connections, which is the hardest thing for him to do.  Something that, according to him, is a weakness.  That’s why he couldn’t kill buddy, (according to Brett Dalton, he doesn’t think Ward killed Buddy), that why he didn’t kill Fitz and Simmons, that’s why he says he doesn’t regret the things he did and the people he hurt, he regrets disrupting the team.  He was the one that sabotaged his own connections, and felt that pain more acutely than any others.  But he did it because he felt he owed Garrett for rescuing him.

Once Garret took the GH 325 and began losing his mind, Ward got scared.  He had relied on this person to lead him, to give him orders, as he stated, because he had never been able to do that by himself before.  He had been molded to do what he had been told since he was old enough to understand words.   He wasn’t sci-fi TV brainwashed, but he was brainwashed by the years of torment he had endured.  Ask a battered wife why she doesn’t leave.  She just can’t.  She’s not her own person and can’t make it on her own without a solid support group.  It’s similar here.  Ward had no idea what to do after he was freed from Garrett.  He had no direction.  

After Garrett’s death, Ward realized what had happened.  He was taken by Coulson’s team and kept locked in solitary confinement for months.  He then attempted suicide on multiple occasions.  It’s understandable.  He was betrayed by every person he had been connected to.  His family, Garrett, Coulson’s team.  Granted, he did do bad things, but no one ever tried to help him.  As soon as his abuser (Garrett) was killed, he was immediately captured and tortured by S.H.I.E.L.D.  His entire life has been one abuse after another.  And as soon as S.H.I.E.L.D found someone that was of more use, they immediately hand Ward over to a previous abuser.  Is there any wonder at all why Ward lashed out?  He had been abused, neglected, and tormented his entire life. He watched every single person that had done evil things get their shot to be redeemed by Coulson (Mike Peterson being a prime example) but instead of trying to help Ward, Coulson turned Ward over to someone Ward had escaped from.   So Ward started living his own life.  Even still, he tried helping the team; turning Bakshi over, trying to reunite sky with her father, etc…  these were not things that benefited him, he was trying to make amends in the only way he knew how.  Even after being betrayed (yes, he betrayed them first, but only because of Garrett’s influence) he was trying to make it up to Coulson and his team.  And he did everything he could.  He never lied to them, he did everything in his power to keep his promises.  he did take Skye to her father, did not let the Hydra jets shoot down the bus after Whitehall had ordered just that.  He was still protecting the team.  

And then came Kara (agent 33).  He saw in her what he saw in himself.  Someone damaged, someone that needed direction, someone who had been taken outside of themselves and molded to be someone else’s tool.  He formed another connection.  What he did then was for her benefit, not for his.  He tried to help her overcome her past.  Yes, it was in a twisted way, but the motives were pure.  And how can we judge his methods?  He has no idea what healthy relationships look like. EVERY person he has cared about has tried to kill him up until this point.  So he does what he can, what he thinks is best, to help someone that he sees himself in.   Even Brett Dalton himself admits that Ward’s motives were to help Kara   Ward wasn’t using her or manipulating her.  Ward was trying to help her.  His entire life was dedicated to helping others.  The only times he was selfish is when he disobeyed orders and let his friends live.   Not killing buddy, not killing FitzSimmons, not letting Whitehall blow up the bus.  Every other time was him trying to make other people happy.

So let’s look at Ward’s body count then.  The only people he’s killed that haven’t been bad guys were Koenig, who was about to expose him, Hand, who everyone hated and thought was Hydra until the episode she died in, and Kara.  Everyone else was either evil, or a nameless/faceless S.H.I.E.L.D agent.  The only two here that are truly regrettable are Koenig, but he was still under the thrall of Garrett, and Kara.  I don’t understand Kara’s death, even still.  Ward trying to kill May didn’t make any sense to me.  He had actively gone out of his way to protect team members before so this seemed way out of character.  The trap was set I don’t know why they didn’t just leave.  

All this being said, I’m glad Ward wasn’t redeemed at the end of season 2. He would have been lost in the shuffle just rejoining the team.   Accepting Tahiti would have undermined who he is as well.  Saying that the only way to get over your past is to erase it is both dismissive and insulting to anyone who has a past. I love the potential of this story arc.  For the first time in his life, Ward is doing something for himself.  Taking over Hydra may be the healthiest thing he’s ever done. He’s finally in control of his own destiny.  He finally has a chance to find himself and come to terms with who he is and what he’s done.  It’s a fine line to walk.  I hope they take their time and develop this fully.  I hope he isn’t turned into the cliche mustache twirling baddy. I want him to be ambiguous.  Dark gray at first.  Trying to process his pain and gradually discovering who he is.  Eventually that gray lightens and he becomes an anti-hero or something of that like.  

I’m not saying Ward is a good person or his misdeeds need to be ignored.   I’m saying that he’s never truly been allowed to be his own person.   Grant Ward himself doesn’t know who or what he is because he’s been manipulated for as long as he can remember.  Redemption isn’t just given.  It has to be earned.  I hope the writers at Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D give Ward that chance.

I Stand With Ward because I can empathize with this character and what he’s gone through. I believe there is good in him and want Ward to find that good in himself

Feelings! (A Supernatural One Shot) - Dean’s POV


cooleditz requested Dean’s POV of the story so here goes! Sorry it took so long. Hope you like it :)


Original ImagineLink: “Imagine that you really like Dean, and it hurt you seeing himwith a different girl at night, and Sam knows and try to comfort you the best he can.”

You can also read the story in Reader’s POV!

Warnings: A little bit of language, may be. And mentioning of sexual content.

Word Count: 4235! Idk what happened! :P

Summary: Dean x Reader, Best Friend!Sam

Fic/Link to Fic: Fanfiction.net | AO3

I stared into her eyes as if there was no place else that I’d rather be, and listened to every word leaving her red pouty lips. “Yeah I’ve seen some new folk hanging around here often than they should,” she said, leaning in over the counter to make sure I heard her over the music emanating from the bar’s jukebox. Her breasts spilled over her low cut top and as in the case of any red blooded male, they caught my attention just like she had hoped they would. “Real rowdy lot too,” she continued. “Been here few times, drinking and dancing practically every night.”

I leaned in closer with a smirk. It was all part of the charming act, all part of my process of getting information. We were hunting a bunch of very nasty vampires and the path had led us to this dingy little bar which was practically home for all the drunken debauchery of the town. The bartender was a pretty little blonde with a pair of knockers made to knock a man out, just the way I preferred my women. She turned away to serve another customer a few seats away, making me realize that the view from the back wasn’t half as bad either.

It didn’t matter though. The thought itself sounded cheesy and right out of some chick flick but no other woman held any appeal anymore, not since I’d met Y/N. Just thinking of her made me instinctively glance in her direction. She was sitting in the far corner of the bar, barely sipping her beer and talking to Sammy.

So many emotions tend to bombard me at the sight of her itself. The feeling of belonging, finally having someone who knew all the terrible things I had to do in the name of righteousness, even if all she was to me right now was a friend. The elation that comes with having someone to laugh with and enjoy the rare moments of levity in this bleak life. The attraction, oh God the attraction, and just the sensation of feeling her near me, her touch on my skin even if it’s just a friendly pat on the arm or an innocent hug. If only she knew the thoughts running through my head every time she got close. She’d probably slap me, or worse.

“So why were you asking about those people, huh?” the blonde bartender broke me from my thoughts of Y/N, making me glance up at her from where I sat. She was pretty, just the type I’d usually take home with me for a night of mindless, meaningless sex. How much easier that would have been, compared to all these feelings messing me up from inside? I guess I didn’t really have a choice about it, did I? Feelings, ugh.

I cleared my throat. “They are a couple of my buddies I’ve been meaning to catch up with. Know where they hang out?” I asked her, smiling, confident in knowing my charm was oozing out with each word. I don’t know why I played them like that sometimes. It’s just gotten easier over the past to get information and to get strangers to open up. And open up she did, giving me all the information I needed to finish off this hunt for once and for all. That’s not all she gave though. She gave me her number, scribbled on a napkin, which I folded up and placed in my pocket. Then with a cheeky smile, and an empty promise of catching up with her later, I left my seat to find Sammy and Y/N.

I stopped just a few feet away from them, taking in the scene before me. Sam was staring intensely into Y/N’s eyes saying something, to which Y/N smiled and replied. I didn’t hear what she said but I could read her lips and I was pretty sure she said something along the lines of, “I’d trust you with my life but not about this.” What in the world were they talking about?

“Not about what?” I chirped in, trying to act nonchalant even though my curiosity was killing me. They’d been doing this an awful lot lately, having their own little secret conversations that I wasn’t privy to. It was driving me nuts and it was starting to put nasty thoughts about the two of them in my head.

“Oh nothing important,” she dismissed it with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Her shoulders, those beautiful perfect dainty little shoulders. Wait, was I just fantasizing about Y/N’s shoulders of all things? I mentally slapped myself. Head in the hunt, Dean, I reminded myself sternly.

“So did you find what we were looking for?” she asked snapping me out of my distracting line of thought.

I leaned in and regaled to them the information that the bartender had imparted. Then we were off to put a stop to those vampires, which was most definitely a good thing. I needed some kind of outlet to let go of all the angst building up within me. I needed something to erase the memory of seeing Y/N cozying up to Sam while practically dismissing me. I needed something.


[Lapse in time]

I pulled up the Impala at the same bar we had been at the previous night. I needed a drink. The hunt was easy enough but watching Sam and Y/N banter back and forth, nudging each other playfully like they knew something I didn’t was just too much for my peace of mind right now. So yes, I needed a drink…and I had half the mind to lose all these damned feelings for Y/N in some meaningless hook up with some random faceless woman.

“I thought we were going to get something to eat, not waste ourselves to oblivion,” she pouted from the backseat.

I looked at her through the rearview mirror, noticing how she’d plumped up her lips with something shiny and glossy. Was she primping up for someone? Was she primping up for Sam? What the hell? Was something going on between them right beneath my nose?

Rear it in, Dean, I advised myself. I chuckled trying to make things seem normal even though my whole world was slightly falling apart inside. “Oh buckle up, wuss. There’s food here too. And I think we all deserve a break after ridding this world of a little bit more evil, don’t you?”

“Right, of course, this is your idea of a well deserved break,” she said folding her arms around herself, and for the briefest of moments I could have sworn some unknown look passed between her and Sam. Maybe I was putting a dent in their little plan to be alone together tonight, I thought to myself bitterly.

“That’s right,” I agreed, with fake joviality in my voice and somehow managing to conjure up a grin. “Burgers, booze, and babes!” I slammed the door, still keeping the smile in place, and walked towards the bar not bothering to look back if they were following me in or not.

Let them have their alone time, I told myself, finding my way to the familiar face of the blonde bartender. It wasn’t as if I ever had a chance with Y/N, anyway. Why would she give someone like me a chance especially when she knows all the crap I’ve done? I’m the man who tortured souls for kicks in hell. I’m the man who’d killed innocent people to get at the demons within them. I slept around in every town we’ve been in, right before her watchful eyes. I’ve done things. I’ve done things that no woman in her right mind could forgive.

“Hey there,” I grinned up at the bartender. “What do I have to do to get a drink and a smile on that pretty little face of yours?”

“Hey there, stranger,” she smiled with sexual promise in her eyes, and leaned in towards me to pour me a drink. Maybe this was supposed to be my life. Maybe Y/N deserved a beautiful life with Sam. They were more alike with so much in common. And Sam would at one point get out of this life, settle down somewhere with a white picket fence. I, on the hand, was destined to die saving some poor soul from one demented evil son of a bitch or the other. Y/N deserved better than what I could offer. Maybe this nameless meaningless woman and many others just like her was all I was meant to have.

“What do you say, we get out of here once my shift is over?” the bartender asked pouring me another one. It was only then that I noticed I’d already finished my first one.

I grinned, resigning myself to my fate. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I watched her serve other customers. I watched people get drunk and drunker on the dance floor, making them bust out freakier moves by the minute. I watched the amber liquid in my glass, swirling it around. I looked at everything but Y/N. I looked at anything to make sure I didn’t turn around to see Sam do some sort of intimate gesture like tuck her hair behind her ear or gently touch her hand as they spoke in soft loving whispers.

I was a weak, weak man though for as always my eyes and mind could never resist. My eyes turned to find her sitting at the table facing Sam. Our eyes met across the crowded bar and I could see that she was very drunk.

Maybe I should take her home now. Then I quickly turned away thinking that it was no longer my responsibility. It was Sam’s job, wasn’t it? He was the one she wanted. I closed my eyes and took another swig of alcohol, feeling it burn down my throat. Like hell it was, I thought glancing at her once more. She was alone at the table now, slumped down like a defenseless rag doll, and something in me snapped. I wasn’t going to stop looking out for her just because they were a thing or whatever.

With that thought forefront on my mind, I reached her table and slowly sat down in front of her in the seat Sam seemed to have vacated in order to go to the men’s room. She didn’t look up. Maybe she had passed out.

“Is Dean gone yet?” she asked proving that thought wrong. She was waiting for me to leave? For some reason, hearing that actually hurt in some level. “I bet he already left with that bimbo. We should probably go to the motel then,” she said. She probably thought it was Sam returning to the seat. Can’t wait to be alone with Sammy, can you, Y/N? I thought bitterly even though I remained silent.

“Actually you know what?” she rambled on, “I do not want to go back! Not yet! I don’t want to hear him get it on with her. I don’t want to hear him get it on with anyone.” Was that a hint of jealousy I heard in her voice? “He’s mine, Sammy. He should be,” she said and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She was talking about me. She was talking about me in a way that said she wanted me. Not Sam, not anyone else, but me. How was this even happening? “He would be if he could get his stupid little head out of his ass and see how perfect we could be together!” she declared.

That was way too funny for me to even think of maintaining my silence. “So my head is in my ass?” I asked, chuckling.

She jolted right up. “Dean!” she exclaimed, her beautiful bright eyes widening in surprise. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” I answered, still laughing. The laughter was genuine this time for I was starting to like the direction this conversation was taking. Things were definitely looking up, though I had no idea how. She looked at the bar, probably searching for Sam to come to her rescue from the little pickle she found herself in. My grin widened. “If you’re looking for Sam, he went to the men’s room,” I told her. “So you were saying?”

“What? I wasn’t saying anything,” she practically squeaked, her voice reaching a higher pitch with every word. This smile on my face just wasn’t going away anytime soon, I knew.

“As I remember, you were telling me in quite vivid detail that you didn’t want me to leave with anyone,” I reminded her. She groaned but ignoring her, I continued right on, gently laughing. “You also said that I was yours and something along the lines of me getting my head out of my ass?”

She stared at me unblinking for a couple of seconds, watching my face with the pensive look I’d come to slowly love. Or maybe it was actually a glare but I was too gleeful to take note. “Well, Y/N, I didn’t know we were open,” I smirked at her. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here flirting with anyone. I’d be back in the motel room with you.”

Somehow this was the wrong thing to say for suddenly the atmosphere around us shifted. Things got serious and intense way too fast as a sheen of tears covered her usually lively eyes. “Y/N,” I whispered gently, not knowing what had triggered it. What the heck did I say? I questioned myself as another darker voice piped up in my head. Look at you, Dean, it said, she barely showed she might feel the same way about you and already you’re ruining it but that’s just what you always do, isn’t it? You ruin everything you touch.

“I don’t want to sleep with you! Are you crazy?” she laughed in my face. “Why would I ever want to sleep with you?”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “Then what were you saying just a few seconds before? About how you were jealous of the other girls…”

“Oh that? That’s just a little joke between me and Sam,” she laughed some more. “You took that seriously?”

I didn’t know what to think, but I was starting to feel as if I walked into something I had no place in and made a fool of myself. “Hmm. Right. You and Sam. Of course,” I muttered to myself.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, slightly punching me in the arm.


I stared at where her hand had touched me. Just an annoyed punch, and it tingled just the same as if she had caressed me. It wasn’t fair what her touch could do to me. It wasn’t fair that she’d be the first woman in ages that would make me fall head over heels only to have her fall for my brother instead. Nothing about any of this was fair.

“So that’s it then, right?” I asked looking into her eyes. “You have feelings for Sam, and you were talking about liking me to make him jealous or something?” I hoped her eyes would tell me something, something along the lines of No, Dean, you’ve gotten it all wrong. I knew the truth though. I’d blown my chance with the one girl I’d hoped to win…I’d lost her love even before I could have it. I closed my eyes in regret. I didn’t want to continue this conversation anymore.

“I don’t have feelings for your brother,” she said making me look at her questioningly. “Dean, the only person I have feelings for,” she went on, “…is you.” I stared at her in disbelief which mingled into shock and unease. What kind of game was she playing at? I wondered trying to playback our conversation in my head. “I have feelings for you,” she repeated. “I don’t want to watch you get into bed with other women, that’s true, but I also don’t want to just hook up with you. I mean I have feelings for you, Dean. I can’t just hook up with you and stay friends with you or something.”

She had feelings for me.

She felt the same way I did. She didn’t like Sam, she liked me. Maybe I could have that perfect life with her, even if we never get that white picket fence. I didn’t need anything else. I felt elated like a giddy teenager. I’d have her.

Then that voice in my head that never let me rest spoke up. But for how long? How long will you have her Dean? People around you keep dropping like flies. Is that the life you want for her? I would have liked to think it was the voice of some dark part of me refusing to let me have any semblance of happiness in this life but the truth was, I knew that the voice was right. It was the voice of reason, telling me to leave Y/N before I end up killing her.

I stood up abruptly. “I have to go. There’s something I have to do somewhere,” I uttered and rushed out before she could somehow change my mind. I had to protect her. I had to leave her not because I didn’t love her but because I did love her enough to want a better life for her. A better life, even if it wasn’t with me in it.

I drove around for hours listening to songs that didn’t even register in my head. Thoughts kept spiraling in my head and I didn’t know what to do or think. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t face Y/N. I couldn’t be with her. I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t stay here in this car alone forever either. I couldn’t do anything damn it!

My phone vibrated against the dash. I pulled over to answer Sam’s call.

“Dean, what the hell, dude?” his voice rang loud in my ear. No ‘hello,’ no nothing – just yelling. I didn’t have to take this shit from Sam. Not now.

“Back off, okay, Sammy?” I practically growled into the receiver.

“You know what? I can’t! Do you know what I’ve been doing for the past hour or so? I’ve been comforting Y/N. She’s been crying ever since you left. What the hell did you even say to her?” he asked accusatorily.

I sighed. Damn it. She was crying? I leaned my head back on the car seat. “She has feelings for me, Sammy,” I confessed. “And I have feelings for her.”

“So?” Sam asked. “What’s the freaking problem?”

“Don’t you get it, Sam?” I lashed at him. “We are hunters. Hunters! We don’t get to have feelings. We don’t get to be happy. God forbid if we do, it’s all ripped from us. I want Y/N to live a long healthy happy life. I’m doing this for her.”

“Yeah right,” Sam snickered in disbelief. “Keep telling yourself that, Dean.”

“It’s the truth, and you know it,” I insisted.

“She loves you, Dean. And she knows the risks too, don’t you think? She’s a hunter just like you and me. She’s lost people too, just like you and me!” he paused, calming down. His voice became gentler. “Listen to me, Dean,” he said. “Just come back and talk to her. You owe her an explanation if nothing else.”

“I have to go,” I said curtly, and cut the line.

I stared at the open road ahead of me. Maybe I could just keep driving and never look back, never having to see Y/N again. Something in me broke with that thought. To never see Y/N again. Or worse, to see her with someone else. Could I really do it? Could I let her go, knowing she feels the same? Should I have to?

I revved up the engine and turned the car around.

She was sleeping when I let myself into her room. I could see the stains left on her cheeks by tears. She had been crying, and I cursed at myself for that. First things first, I stealthily slipped my hand under her pillow, keeping in mind not to jar her, and removed her handgun from its usual place.

She woke up, I could tell, even though she didn’t make any sudden move. Her breathing changed and she slowly reached under her pillow only to find the resting place empty.

“Looking for this?” I asked holding up her gun. “Knowing your reflexes, I had to remove it before waking you up in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, about that,” she squinted up at me. “What are you doing here, Dean?” She looked over at her phone checking the time. “It’s freaking three in the morning.”

I knelt down before her bed, bringing our faces to the same level. “I had to talk to you, Y/N,” I said solemnly, staring into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have just taken off like that. Sam pretty much gave me hell for it. But I had to take a walk. I had to think.”

“Thinking about what?” she asked, her apprehension evident. I suppose I deserved that after my sudden disappearance act at the bar earlier that night.

Noticing a stray tendril of hair, I gently reached out and tucked it behind her ear. I smiled, remembering how many times I’d wanted to do that but never had the courage to.

“I had to think about what to do, Y/N,” I told her, watching her closely trying to gauge her reaction. “I mean while I thought it was just me falling for you it wasn’t that much of a big deal but knowing you feel the same way about me, made things get serious a lot faster than I could have imagined,” I went on. “I mean, Sam told me you felt the same but I never believed him,” I said slowly smiling remembering that one drunken time Sam had insisted of Y/N’s feelings for me. I’d dismissed him of course. I hadn’t even dared to hope. I gazed into her eyes, revealing more of myself to her than I had ever planned to reveal to anyone else. “I never dared to hope that someone like you could ever love someone like me,” I quietly confessed.

“Sam told you?” she shrieked in surprise and embarrassment, making me laugh.

“Seriously,” I raised an eyebrow pretending to be annoyed. “I’m trying to declare my intentions towards you and that’s your biggest concern?”

She giggled and her mood was infectious. I found myself feeling more optimistic than I had any right to feel. “Sorry,” she said innocently. “Carry on. So what are your intentions towards me, Dean Winchester?”

I couldn’t hold back my returning smile. I felt warm all over like the sun was shining in me in the middle of the night, like anything was possible as I stared into her eyes. Was this what love felt like? My gaze bore into hers. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,” I told her. No grins, no smirks. I wanted her to know how serious I was about her. I needed her to know. “I am in love with you and it terrifies me. I’ve lost too much. I’ve given too much. I’m scared to love you and lose you too but it’s all too late now. I’m already in love with you. It’s been driving me crazy for months!”

“Months?” she raised her brow in disbelief. “Is that why you screwed everything in a skirt all the way from the East Coast to the West?”

I looked down at the floor. I should have known I’d have to answer for that sooner or later. “A part of me wanted to make you jealous,” I confessed. “And another part of me wanted to fight it, Y/N, because I had never felt anything like this. It’s scary.” I hoped to God she understood.

Maybe she did because she reached out to touch my face. I worried my overgrown stubble would prickle her but I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and leaning into her touch, taking in the feel of her. How long had I hoped for her to touch me like this, willingly, intentionally? It felt like forever. “Dean,” she whispered making me look back at her again. “I love you too.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I realize that now.” I took her hand in mine as I swore to her. “I can’t promise you a perfect life, Y/N. Heck! We are both hunters. Our lives are everything but perfect. But I promise you this…no matter what happens, I will always fight for you. I will always love you no matter what.” I meant every word.

“A promise huh?” she grinned up at me. “Is the word of a Winchester worth anything?”

“This word is,” I replied solemnly.

She reached up, bracing herself on her arm and looked at me. We were just inches apart that I could feel her breath on my lips. My gaze dropped to her pout, and as if she read my mind, she kissed me so gently it felt like a feather on my lips. A beautiful, blissful feather or promise and feeling. “Okay, then it’s good enough for me,” she said. I smiled into her lips as I grabbed her for a longer, more passionate kiss.

I didn’t know what the future held, but for this moment, everything was perfect.