#beta!benny laffite

[flamencodiva]

Prologue

Description: Dean Winchester is slated to be the next Alpha of his pack. As with all Wolves, Dean is waiting to see who his mate is at 18. But when he doesn't find her within his pack, he wonders if he will ever have a mate at all. On the brink of going feral, Dean is sent away from his pack to search for his mate. He can only return once he's found her, or he must take on a chosen mate. Y/N is the daughter of the current Moon Goddess, Selene. Hidden from the mortal realm after an attack on the moon kingdom, Y/N has heard a lonely howl for the past ten years since she turned 18. When unexpected circumstances force her to leave her current home, will she be able to find the lonely wolf and help heal him?

Pairing: Shifter-Wolf!Dean Winchester x Shifter-Wolf!Female!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Benny Laffite, Castiel, Garth, John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer, Henry Winchester (in flashbacks), Nick (Lucifer), OMC Luke, Jack, OMC Zack, and many more!

Word Count: 2105

Warnings (For entire fic): Violence, Language, Sexual Content (Smut of all kinds).

This A/B/O is more werewolf centered than A/B/O-centered. I hope you all enjoy the world I have created through this fic. All characters, unless stated otherwise, are shifter-wolf. It is a world/lore that I stumbled upon and found myself wanting to write.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The full moon was high in the sky as it shone down onto the pack gathering below. Sixteen year old Dean Winchester stood with other his age as their bodies bagan to shift. His bones began to break and rearrange as tufts of shiny grey fur began to appear. He groaned in pain as his family stood near him and encouraged him to not fight the change. 

‘Just breath son,” his father, John Winchester soothed. 

“Just take deep breaths and let your wolf take over, Dean.” 

His mother, Mary Winchester, had instructed. He could only nod as his face began to change. His nose and jaw elongated to grow a snout and he found himself on his arms and legs as they changed into paws. It didn’t take long before he competed his shift and allowed his wolf spirit, Shadow, take control. 

‘Woah,’ Dean said as his vision sharpened. 

“Let us celebrate our children and the emergence of their wolves!” John’s voice roared as everyone sexteen asnd older began shifting. 

The entire pack ran as one through the forest that was a part of their territory. Dean was at the lead with not just his parents but with the rest of the adults that made up his father and mother’s Alpha and Luna units. His best friend Benny Lafeitte was slated to be his Beta. Castiel Novak was to be his Gamma and the one to help calm and keep him intune with his Luna. And lastly Garth Fitzgerald III who would take on the Delta position.  

 The Silver Moon pack was one of the proudest and strongest packs in the area. John and Mary Winchester watched as their son rolled around in wolf form, playing with their second son, Twelve-year-old Sam. 

“The pups are growing up fast,” John said as he looked at his wife. 

“They are,” she sighed, placing her head on his shoulder, “do you think they’ll find good mates?” 

“I think so.” 

“Dean will have to start training with you as an Alpha,” Mary reminded him. 

“He’ll make a great Alpha, my love,” John turned his head to kiss the top of his mate’s, “look at how he is with Sam and his friends. He will make sure our Pack stays strong.” 

two years later, 

Dean fixed his hair again. Today he would find his mate. When pack members turned eighteen, they would be brought together at the pack house to find their mates. Essentially it became one big party. 

‘Gotta find mate,’ his wolf Shadow whined. 

“We will,” Dean chuckled, “besides, who knows, it might be that we already found and sampled our mate,” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

‘No mate, not yet. Can’t sense her,’ Shadow huffed. 

Dean rolled his eyes before turning to the door to see Sam leaning against the frame. 

“How come I can’t go!” he whined, “I mean, I know I haven’t shifted yet but why can’t I find my mate?” 

“Sam,” Dean placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “you have plenty of time. Besides, it’s only four more years. What’s your rush?” 

“I know, my mate,” the young teen said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You do?” Dean raised his eyebrow at his brother, “who?” 

“Jessica Moore,” Sam whispered, lowering his head in embarrassment. 

“Jess? Your mate is Jess? How do you know?” Dean asked. 

“Swift could sense it.” 

“You know you can’t know for sure until you’re 18, Sam.” 

“But Dean, I’ve read in some of the books that some mates can sense they are mates before they’re 18. It’s not all that uncommon.”

“Sam,” Dean said giving his brother a warning glare. “You know the rules. You have to wait until your first shift and on the full moon of your 18th birthday to know for sure.” 

“Fine,” his little brother grumbled and threw himself on the bed. “Can you feel your mate near by?”

“No,” Dean admitted. “But who knows, she might have been hiding from me. Or, it just takes me and shadow the full moon to feel them.” 

Dean sighed as he watched his brother through is mirror as he continued to get ready. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. His brother’s wolf had already found his mate before he was eighteen. It wasn’t fair. Here he was, the future Alpha, and his mate had not surfaced. Or at least he couldn’t sense her in the pack. 

Meanwhile, his brother, barely of legal age, could already sense his mate. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. His wolf let out a whimper before Dean shook his head. 

“Then, in four years, you and Jess can make sure you belong together,” Dean cleared his throat, “this is a rite of passage, Sam. So hopefully, my mate is out there, and the Goddess Selene blesses me tonight.” 

With that said, Dean gave his brother’s shoulder a soft pat before making his way down the stairs of the packhouse. He could hear his mother ordering people around to prepare one of the large rooms. 

“No, no,” he heard her cry in frustration. 

“The food needs to be placed in the next room. The main room is for dancing and mingling.” 

“Mom,” Dean made his presence known, “don’t you think this is a bit… much?” 

“Nonsense,” she dismissed him, “not every day your eldest is of age to find his mate. Besides, you know I do anything for you boys.” 

“You really think I’m gonna find my mate tonight?” Dean huffed. 

“Why not? I saw you and Cassie were together three summers ago,” she pointed out as she continued to direct older pack members around the house to help set up. 

“But that doesn’t mean she’s my mate,” Dean shrugged, “how did you know dad was yours?” 

Mary blushed and turned to her son, “I just knew. And so did your father. Our wolves just felt this connection given to us by the Goddess.” 

“What if my mate isn’t here?” Dean asked, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his shirt. 

“Then she will find her way to you,” Mary placed her hands on either side of her son’s face, lifting his gaze to hers. “You will find your mate Dean. You just have to trust that the Goddess has a plan.” 

Dean nodded before taking her hands in his and giving his mother a kiss on her cheek. Turning away from the planning, he noticed Sam near their father’s study, his brother giving off a low growl. 

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean whispered. 

“Dad’s got the council in there. I heard something about rogues near our border.” 

“What?” 

Dean stepped closer to the door, his senses tingling as he tried his best to use his wolf hearing. Much of what was being said was muffled, but he could make out a few words. He and many of his friends are mainly undergoing extra training in the next few weeks. 

“Do you think it’s Lucifer?” John sighed. 

“Is that what Nicks's runt is calling himself,” a voice called out, “Idjit.” 

Dean recognized the voice as Bobby Singer, one of the pack’s elders. Bobby had come to join their pack around the time his father, John, was just a young pup. He remembered his dad talking about Bobby being one of the best warrior trainers he had ever seen. Dean heard stories of Bobby having a son once, but the elder never liked to talk about it.  

“The rogues seem to be from Nick’s pack, and Luke seems to be leading the charge,” John sighed, “but all we can do is double that guard. Whatever he’s doing, we will need to find out.” 

“We need to beef up training, John,” Bobby sighed. “I’m too old for this.” 

John chuckled, “my dad trusted you, and our warriors are strong because of you. Benny is set to take over for Hypolite.” 

John’s heavy footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door. Dean could tell his father was worried. He only paced in his office when he needed to think of a solution to a problem. 

Dean and Sam continued to try and eavesdrop on the conversation when the door cracked open. 

“You know,” their father’s voice started them, “if you wanted to know what was going on, Dean, all you had to do was knock.” 

Dean stood up and gave his father a sheepish smile. 

“Well--” 

“Samuel,” John huffed, “you know better than to sneak around. If I wanted you to know, you would know.” 

“But dad! How come Dean gets to go to all the Alpha meetings? I’m an Alpha too!” 

John placed a gentle hand on his youngest son’s shoulder, “Dean is going to be Pack Alpha one day. He is of age. He’s been training for this just as you have. Right now, I need you to be a kid and enjoy not having to worry about his” 

“No fair. I can fight and be helpful!” Sam growled. 

“I know you can, pup,” John ruffled his youngest son’s hair. “I promise when the time comes, you can help. 

Sam frowned and stomped his way up the spiral staircase to his room, grumbling along the way. 

“He’s trying to grow up too fast,” John sighed. 

“He’ll get over it once he gets back into training mode,” Dean assured his father, “is it serious? The rogues on our borders?” 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” John dismissed, “tonight you find your mate.” 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed as his father walked away, “if she’s even here.” 

The guests arrived with Dean hanging out with his friends, Benny Lafitte, Castiel Novak, and Garth Fitzgerald III. 

“Excuze me, Boyz,” Benny said as he pulled away from his friends, “seem’z Red and I have zeroed in on our mate.” 

“Already?” Castiel huffed, “how the --” 

Dean watched as Cas stopped talking and turned towards the front door. 

“I, um… I gotta--” 

Garth and Dean watched as Benny and Cas walked toward their mates. The couples seem to fall into easy conversation. 

“Don’t worry, Deano,” Garth gave the Alpha a slap on his back, almost making him choke on his drink, “I’m sure the next girl to walk in will be your--” 

Dean covered his face with his hands as Garth clumsily tripped over his feet at the next female that walked in. Garth had stumbled into not just the table the boys were standing by, but the following tables lined up with the front door. 

“Sorry, my bad!” Garth called out as he stumbled his way toward the female. 

As the night went on, Dean watched as his friends and peers paired off with their mates. It hurt that his own mate hadn’t shown herself yet. By the end, Dean was left alone, his head hung low as he walked towards the balcony overlooking the valley. 

The moon shone so brightly that its rays illuminated every corner of the pack's territory. Dean finished off the last of his drink before turning his gaze to the moon. Shadow could feel Dean’s pain. After all, he and Dean were one and the same. Their pain resonated so profoundly that Dean let Shadow take over as a mournful howl echoed through the sky. 

‘Goddess hear my plea,’ it seemed to say, ‘let my mate find me soon.’ 

Little did Dean and Shadow know that in the realm of the Moon Goddess, the goddess herself had heard his cry. 

“Dean Winchester,” she said, her voice a whisper as the howl echoed in the halls of her palace. “When the time comes, your mate will find you,” she said to the wind. “Strong heir of the Silver Moon Pack, your trials are just beginning. My Conor’s sacrifice to keep our daughter safe will not be in vain. I hope you can be patient.” 

She walked to her room, away from the enormous mirror in her chambers, where the reflection of Dean sank. 

This was to ensure the safety of her daughter, Y/N. The wolf, who claimed the name Lucifer, was no match for Conor's valiant efforts. The death of Selene's mate was ultimately felt by her. Her first concern was ensuring the safety of Y/N. Meeting Dean was still too soon for her. The young Alpha had to face his own struggles as her daughter trained. 

A second reflecting pool was entered by the moon goddess's palm. With her light, she extended her hand into a room that was otherwise dark.

Whispering to her daughter, "My little Y/N," she delicately gathered the stray hairs and placed them behind her ear. "For as long as it takes, I will shield you from harm. I can only pray that the web of destiny does not end in sorrow."

Chapter 1

Tag List: Tag List is Open and has room for more. (note: Everything means everything from M/M to OFC)

Dean (Female Pairing Only) 

@440mxs-wife

@virgosapphire79

@deans-spinster-witch

@sandlee44

@waynes-multiverse

@cookiechipdough

@magssteenkamp 

@akshi8278

Dean Everything 

@sexyvixen7

@kickingitwithkirk

@deandreamernp

@holylulusworld

@roseblue3733

@stoneyggirl2

@hobby27 

@stixnstripesworld

#flamencodiva #The Moon Goddess's Daughter and the Alpha #Shifter!Dean Winchester Fic #supernatural au fic #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #Angst #Dean Winchester AU Fic #Supernatural Fan Fiction

[geek-22]

Purgatory: Chapter 1

Summary;

After being pulled into the portal Artemis wakes up in a forest with no idea how he got there. He's stuck in Purgatory with an infuriating vampire, trying to find a way out. Unfortunately for Artemis, greater things are at work... Or: Heaven is really bad at orchestrating the universe. An angel loses Artemis' paperwork and all hell breaks loose. Literally. Or: Artemis is stuck in Purgatory, makes a friend, falls into Hell gets tortured/Stockholm syndrome and generally loses his shit.

Pairings/characters: Artemis Fowl, Benny Laffite

Word count: 2,535

Warnings: Violence. Later in the fic there will be torture in some scenes

AN: Full credit to my wonderful beta, Anastacius_Arklov

The first Rule

The last thing Artemis could remember was Butler and Holly running towards him, but it was too late. In truth, he hadn’t expected Holly to get his hint about the clone, but he was impressed none the less.

He opened his eyes, one brown, one blue and stared up at the forest canopy. Artemis frowned; he was most certainly not in LEP headquarters nor was at home. He wasn’t in the Fowl grounds, and no one was to be seen. Fog swirled around him, making the forest seem more sinister.

Standing, he brushed the dirt off his jacket. His questions could wait until he found civilisation.

-----------------------------------------

He stumbled through the trees though the ground was uneven, and his loafers were not built for this kind of stress. He caught site of a body. The closer he got the clearer it became that the body was humanoid and disembowelled.

Nausea swept through him as he knelt in front of the body. Fangs? Odd… they could be a realistic prosthetic. He checked the man’s pulse. Nothing. No beat.

He felt the gums, the fangs were retractable and there was no sign of any surgery. Maybe it was a sub-species of some description, could it be…

Vampires were mythical creatures just as fairies were so it would stand to reason that vampires could be real too. As soon as he made it back to Fowl manor he would look into it, but for now… He needed to avoid whatever had killed this man.

A machete lay in the man’s slack hand. Artemis looked at it then grabbed it, gingerly. It was like Butler said, ‘best to be prepared’.

He continued into the forest carrying the bloodied machete.

-------------------------------------------------

He only encountered more bodies lying in eerie silence. A feeling was beginning to churn in his gut, this wasn’t right. Where was he?

He heard a rustle and turned just in time to a see the snarling rabid thing hurtling towards him. After a moment he unfroze and pushed it off him with surprising ease. He scrambled away before looking back in the direction of his assailant.

His stomach dropped. A woman with fangs and claws half crawled towards him, her legs had been severed at the knee leaving her to use her remaining limbs to clumsily lumber forward at a snail’s pace.

However, he knew if she managed to get within an arm’s length of him, she could kill him with those sharp claws of hers.

He took a cautious step forward and jabbed the blade into her neck, she screamed and kept on crawling. How was she still functioning? He thought to himself idly.

Severing the brain from the body should dispatch the vampire. He tried to get close to retrieve the machete but was met with slashing claws which caused him to stumble back. He steeled himself and stepped forward and wrenched the machete from her neck. He backed away again coming away with sharp bleeding gashes down his face and arms. He swung for her head, sending it rolling away.

She stilled… He let out a breath and let his shoulders sag in relief. What a mess. He looked at the blood on his shaking hands then at the body on the floor.

He needed to keep going.

He stood and walked. And walked.

-------------------------------------------

Night fell, and by some miracle he managed to avoid running into any more… he wasn’t sure what the proper term was for what those creatures were, but felt hesitant to call them vampires, it just made him feel a little ridiculous. He sighed; it would simply have to do.

He didn’t light a fire; he couldn’t risk it.

Slumping on the floor, he wrapped his arms around himself, “five, ten, fiveteen…”. Feeling drowsy from the blood loss and mentally exhausted from the events of the day, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

------------------------------------

The next few days represented a steep learning curve for Artemis, and he had come to realise a few things to be true about this place.

One: he discovered that everything here wanted to kill him.

Two: pretty much any creature he had encountered could be killed by beheading.

And three: if in doubt, run.

-------------

Confusion and anxiety had become constant companions to him, the uncertainty of his whole situation was getting to him.

Currently, Artemis was slumped at the foot of a tree, trying to catch his breath. He had spent all morning running and he was going to get all the rest he could get.

He heard the crunch of leaves, turned and froze. He had never seen something so grotesque. Gorilla-wolves were unusual, and vampires were supernaturally fast, but neither were gruesome. It was humanoid and crouched on all fours. Its skin was mottled and riddled with wriggling worms and veins so prominent they were popping out of its skin. He was on all fours, growling lowly, his eyes of a pitch black.

‘All fours’ Artemis thought hysterically, ‘four is bad, four is death.’ He tapped five times on his leg to counter it. ‘Five was safe.’

Artemis took a step back.

The creature shook its eyes on him and briefly those pitch-black eyes bled of darkness leaving a natural brown, “You’re a human. a child… you shouldn’t be here.” The shaking intensified “I’m sorry…” its eyes returned to an inky black, and the creature pounced.

He jerked into action and swung, they rolled to the ground, grappling. The blade fell from his hand and the creature knelt over him.  His hand skittered across the dirt, hand blindly searching for his lifeline. His palm finds purchase on the handle and he swings.

The body fell on top of him limp. He rolled it off him, wrinkling his nose.

That was the first time anyone had said anything to him in…. he wasn’t sure, weeks?

The monster had seemed remorseful, but it had appeared to lose control. The twinge of guilt he felt for killing the creature was quickly replaced with annoyance. What was this, Twilight?

His hands shook, that was close. He really should have listened to Butler more.

He felt his chest constrict and he sank to the floor next to the body. Breath, needed to breath. count, he could count his breaths, one, two, three, four, five. He stopped counting. Five was good, five was safe.

He stood; the body would be descended on by scavengers by sunset. It was getting darker, he needed to find somewhere to rest.

---------------------------------------

Artemis woke to a sound. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his blade

He was pinned to the ground, flailing gracelessly all the while. Suddenly the mess of gnashing teeth and claws were off him. A man had tackled his attacker to the ground then proceeded to cut its head off with a weapon fashioned from a sturdy wooden stick with jagged bits of bone strapped to it along its length. In a flash the man had dispatched the other vampires.

Artemis struggled to his feet to face the man. He was large and fanged, wearing a moth bitten black coat and a shirt that had once been white but was now flecked with grime and blood.

The man rounded on him retracting his fangs, speaking in a southern American drawl, “What? Not gonna thank me for saving your life?”

Artemis stayed silent, unsure. He kept his eyes on the man, fully aware of how quicky he could be killed.

The man sighed, “Relax, I’m not gonna kill you.” He took a step closer which sent Artemis scrambling back. The man backed off and held his hands up in placating gesture “Okay, okay. I’ll just stay here, see, not moving.” The man sat where he was in a bid to seem less threatening, “You can call me Benny by the way…”

Artemis looked at him trying to decide whether he should run or not. “Artemis” he said.

Benny sat back, an easy smile softening his features, “How’d you end up here Artemis? You’re an awful long way from home.”

Artemis relaxed but kept tight grip on his blade, “Where-… where is this exactly?”

This garnered a dumbfounded stare from Benny, “You don’t know where you are?” Artemis shook his head. Benny raised an incredulous eyebrow, “Do you know how hard it is for a human to get here?” he laughed “And you got here by accident, that is priceless.”

Artemis’ jaw tightened minutely, prickles of irritation needling at him, “That does not answer my question.” He said, his voice hard despite the thin veil of calm he tried to hide it behind “Where are we?”

Benny still seemed amused, “Purgatory, the place where all us monsters end up when we die.”

Artemis started, “So… am I dead?”

Benny shook his head, “If you were dead, you would be in Heaven or Hell.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that Heaven is a real place” Artemis said derisively.

Benny shrugged, “Believe it or not, that’s just what I’ve heard. Anyway, we are in purgatory, I don’t see why that’s any more ridiculous.”

A silence followed as Artemis tried to digest this. A thought struck him, “The ones that attacked me, were they you friends?”

“They were my friends, now you’re my friend.” Benny said

“And why is that?” Artemis said, feeling thoroughly perturbed by the vampire’s flippancy.

“You’re my way out of this hellhole. I can get us out into the real world.” said Benny.

“So, just how do you intend to do that” said Artemis, who was finally at ease now he understood why he wasn’t dead, now understood what this was. This was a transaction and he understood transactions. Understanding of a situation led to the ability to hold greater agency, and greater control could be key to survival.

“This place was made to cage all the monsters of the world; it doesn’t want you here. At the first opportunity it’ll spit you out. There’s a portal, a human portal. Now, I’m just close enough to human I might be able to hitch a ride. You’d just have to carry my soul to the other side.” said Benny.

“Am I just supposed to take you at your word?” asked Artemis distrustfully.

“Basically, yeah.”

“And how do I know I won’t end up like your friends” Artemis gestured to the body on the floor.

“You don’t. First rule of purgatory kid, you can’t trust nobody.”

“You just asked me to trust you” Artemis said.

“You see? You’re getting it now.” Benny said with a smile that was all teeth. “Now, what do you say? Are you in?”

It took a moment for Artemis to realise that Benny was asking his consent. Artemis nodded slowly, “Yes, I would find that arrangement… agreeable”

Benny frowned at him, “Do most kids talk like that now or are you just weird? The last time I was on earth was about, fifty years ago.”

“You could say I am unusual in comparison to my peers” Artemis said

“So, what did you do? Kill a leviathan? Must have been some stunt to break your way in here,” said Benny curiously.

“You would never believe me and even if you did it is a long story, and not one I have the inclination to tell.” Said Artemis, not really in the mood to have this conversation

“If you say so.” Benny said, standing with an ‘oof’. “We’d better get a movin’, all sort of critter will be after us soon. When word spreads of a human in purgatory, everything’ll want a chunk of you.”

“Lovely thought” Artemis said sardonically. He began to tap in multiples of five against his leg. “What is a ‘leviathan’ anyway?”

Benny grinned, “I’ll tell you if I see one ‘cause then at least you can know what’s gonna kill you.”

--------------------------------

After an hour of walking in a tense silence Benny tapped Artemis on the shoulder, putting a finger to his lips and pointing out into the forest.

Artemis nodded in understanding adjusted his grip on the machete, ‘here we go’ he thought.

A group of four vampires emerged from the tree line and rushed Benny who was able to most of them at bay with his claws and quick reflexes. Artemis beheaded two, leaving Benny to wrestle with the other pair.

Artemis heard a twig snap behind them and spun.

A vampire was approaching Benny from behind at an alarming pace. Benny had just finished dispatching his assailants and was completely unaware of the vampire hurtling towards him. The vampire bowled Benny to the floor and Artemis took his head off while he was grappling with Benny. The body fell to the forest floor next to a slightly shaken Benny.

Artemis offered him a hand up and Benny accepted it with a surprised “Thanks”.

Artemis looked at him, “What?”

Benny shrugged, “Didn’t expect you to stick around to save my hide. Specially as we barely know each other.”

“Well, I was hardly going to let you die; you know where the portal and you did save my life earlier.”

“Also didn’t expect you to be any good with a blade,” said Benny

Artemis gave him a withering glare then deflated, “Fair enough” he said sounding defeated.

“You’re holding it wrong by the way. You’ll strain your wrist if you keep swingin’ like that.” He gestured towards the blade that Artemis held in a death grip. “Can I?” Artemis nodded. Benny reached out and adjusted Artemis grip then nodded to himself “Feel better?” Benny asked.

Artemis gave an experimental swing, “Much better.” He looked up at Benny, “Thank you.” He said the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

Soon the sun began to dip in the sky, bathing the trees in an orange haze.

Benny slowed to a stop, “We should sleep in shifts, everything in purgatory is hunting us. You should grab a few hours; I’ll take first watch.”

Artemis eyed him suspiciously.

Benny rolled his eyes, “What? Just because I’m a vampire you think I can’t be trusted.” he crossed his arms “You know what I hate most about being a vampire? The prejudice. Everyone thinks that just because vampires drink blood we’ll rip out people throats when they’re sleeping.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow, “Have you ripped out anyone’s throat when they were sleeping?”

Benny waved the question away, “That is completely beside the point.”

“Right, nothing untoward, you’re just going to watch me sleep.” Artemis said his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Benny sighed, “Look, If I wanted you dead you would be. I can’t get though the escape hatch to earth without a human with a soul, that means a live human. Does that make you feel better?”

“That was you trying to make me feel better?” Artemis said

“Did it work?” asked Benny

“No”

“Oh”

“That was terrible. Never try that again.”

“Noted.”

Artemis curled up on the forest floor sparing Benny a glance who was slumping against a tree.

“Thanks for...” Artemis seemed at a loss “Watching me while I sleep. I tried to make it sound less creepy but that would be impossible.”

Benny loosed an amused huff, “G’night Kid.”

Artemis continued to tap out multiples of five against his leg till he fell asleep.

#artemis fowl #fanfic #fowldom #supernatural #benny lafitte #fanfiction #af #alastair #dean winchester #sam winchester #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #eoin colfer #holly short #stockholm syndrome #spn #meg supernatural #fandom #castiel #apocalypse #foaly #ao3 #ao3 writer #crossover #julius root #fiction #my fic #writers on tumblr #writers #mental health

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Try to Understand Pt 9

Characters: Alpha!Dean Smith, Beta!Benny Lafitte, Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3521

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Hello dear friends and readers! You’re all so wonderfully patient with me. We’re getting close to the end, and I hope you enjoy this part. It’s a lot. @roxy-davenport did some amazing beta reading for me. I always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.

Note about the tags - there are so so many I can’t tag. I tried. If anyone has any advice for fixing it, let me know.

Part 8

From part 8: 

“No,” he yanks away from you. 

“No, you need to let me walk away before I say something I can’t take back.”

“Just - you can’t say anything to anyone, please?”

“What the hell am I even supposed to say?”

“Benny, please talk to me. Let me explain. Try to understand -”

“There’s nothing to understand.” he says, harsh enough to keep you from going after him again when he turns to walk away this time.

You don’t bother watching after him. Instead, wrapping your arms around yourself and focusing on the concrete, trying to force away the emotions threatening to burst free at any moment. A small crowd had formed and you can feel their eyes watching you. The morning air suddenly feels suffocating so you turn away and begin to walk. The direction isn’t significant, as long as it takes you away from the here and now.

You walk to burn away the nerves, the anger, the embarrassment, the guilt presses at your chest. . They all threaten to send your fists flying at anything in sight, Eventually it all does burn away, and your skin goes dewey with the effort, muscles tingling as you push hard with each step. Hours pass, your body aches and the sunshine turns into long, cool shadows between the buildings. The golden reflections on the windows turn to bright white rectangles, lit from fluorescent lights inside. You walk until the cool air finally breaks through and brings a chill, prompting you to find your way back to the office building to face whatever comes next.

It’s mostly empty, and you drag your sore and tired body through the building until you reach the office you’ve been sharing with Dean. A soft yellow light from inside lets you know he’s still there.

With your eyes downcast, you push the door open, and slowly shut it behind you. Leaning against it, you take your eyes off the floor, and nervously look up to see Dean staring at you. His lips are parted and his eyes are rimmed with red. Sadness and relief rolls off of him in waves, clear in the glassy look in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he breathes out with a sigh.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You answer softly, wary of any potential outbursts.

“You, uh,” he clears his throat, his voice taken on a harder edge than before. “I wanted to give you some time, and then you didn’t come back and you didn’t take your phone…” He trails off, tone wavering a little at the end.

The sound of disappointment in his voice is enough to make you hang your head in shame, “I’m sorry. I just needed to try to talk to him, and get him to understand. I didn’t want to tell my family. Then I needed some air to calm down and clear my head.”

Dean shifts from his chair, standing up and straightening his clothes before running a hand over his hair to smooth it. “And? Did it help?”

“No,” you answer, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

You see him nod and move around to the front of the desk then lean against it, his fingers anxiously tapping against the edge. “Why haven’t I scented him?”

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. Burning, prickling sweat breaks out all over your body as the truth trickles out, “I change my clothes. Before and after work. I didn’t mean for all this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was just trying to weigh my options,” you whisper, making his head snap up.

“Options?” he spits like an accusation.

“Yeah. Options. Maybe you forgot that I’m not an idiot!” He gives you a disbelieving look which sends a wave of uneasiness to settle in your gut, but you continue, “Naive, unaware, ignorant, whatever makes you happy - sure. But I’m not stupid. I’ve looked into things. Did you know that plenty of omegas live perfectly happy lives with betas? That not every omega has to be with some alpha that thinks she’s his property just because of her genes?”

“What the hell? Those omegas didn’t find their true mates. This is different. Really? You looked into things? You’re serious with this shit?”

It’s a slight nod, but it’s enough of an answer. He turns away toward the windows, rubbing a hand over his neck, the other clenched into a fist. Restless, anxious energy setting him off to pace back and forth.

“What about your heats? Fuck, you’re almost in heat right now.”

“You’re not my Alpha, why’s that your problem?”

He whirls around on you, a fierce look on his features that’s frightening and exciting. Complete Alpha confidence and hunger in his gaze. “I could be. Fucking should be.”

“You’re not,” you point out.

“Damn it, yes I am and you know it,” he growls. His hands grab your arms, jostling you as he pulls you against him. He nudges his nose along the side of your neck, taking in your scent with a deep inhale. “Should be my scent all over you. Should be him ready to explode with jealousy. Should be my mark on your neck.”

“I didn’t even sleep with him,” you confess, trying to sound annoyed, but it’s too breathy to sound genuine.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he snaps at you, sarcasm dripping with anger, as he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Your eyes dart back and forth between his, desperate for clarity. “I have nothing to offer if I give in to this. No family, no money, just a fucked up view of the world. I have nothing and nowhere to go.”

Dean’s eyes close and his face scrunches up in a grimace as if you’d caused him pain with just your words. His hands move to cradle your cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his body tenses and nearly vibrates against you, muscles trembling with whatever he’s holding inside. He sucks in a deep breath and pulls away, forcing a bit of distance between you. All the while he continues to stare intently, his body slowly inching away before he finally speaks.

“God damn you’re making this so hard,” he whispers. “I know what this is, and I know what I want. It’s you - with or without your family or your status and money. I want my Omega.”

He backs away until he reaches his desk. He pulls his suit jacket back on before picking up his bag and fiddling with the strap for a moment, “I’m not going to play any more games and I’m not pretending this is anything it’s not. I know you don’t want or need anyone telling you what to do. You need to decide. Not for me, or them. For yourself.”

You’re frozen still in front of the door. He steps up close to you, and places a hand gently on your cheek. He nuzzles his nose into the other side of your neck scenting you as he makes a soft hum.

“You wouldn’t have nothing, you know that, right? Charlie is your friend, you have your job, and I’d do anything for you. You’d have your Alpha,” he whispers. You can feel the sadness rolling off him, but can’t will yourself to do anything except follow his lead as he moves you to the side and pulls away. Without another look your way, he pulls the door open and stomps down the hall.

You lean back, resting your head against the wall and stare at the ceiling, fighting tears for what feels like the millionth time that day. Once you’ve got your emotions bottled back up, you draw in a deep breath and glance around the familiar office. Nothing is out of place, nothing’s changed, but it feels different; your little bubble had popped, but even without it, it feels good to be there - familiar - like home. Dean’s scent - earthy, woodsy with some spice - permanently settled into everything. When you realize why you like it so much, the revelation forms quietly and slowly in your mind. It’s like you’re walking on your family estate, at the border of the garden near the pines. Your favorite place.

I’m such an idiot, it dawns on you and it’s hard to resist smacking yourself on the forehead. Gathering your things, you find your phone sitting on Dean’s desk, lined up perfectly next to the desk calendar, still blinking with notifications of missed calls. You ignore all of them, pulling up your contacts and hitting the call button.

“Oh my god, hi!” her enthusiasm draws out a small smile, your cousin, Anna’s, voice high-pitched and breathy as she greets you.

“Hey, Anna. Do you have some time to talk?” One of her kids shrieks in the background, but you hear her shush them and close a door..

“For you? Of course. You’re the only family I ever hear from.” She doesn’t sound sad, and you instantly wonder if you’ll ever feel the same.

“I don’t know how you did this by yourself, Anna, I am so so lost.”

“Did what? What’s going on?”

The tears finally fall, “I presented, Anna. I’m an Omega.”

She gasps, but stays quiet, giving the statement a moment to sink in. “Tell me everything. Have you told your parents? You’re not hurt are you?”

It’s a rushed conversation, as you rattle off the events of the last couple of months. Your cousin listens with a sympathetic ear, only interrupting with a few questions now and then.

“And this Alpha? How does he make you feel?”

“Like a crazy person,” you say, pulling a laugh from the both of you. “He kind of puts me on edge, like I’m always a little nervous with him, but at the same time I want that. That doesn’t even make sense.” You get up and pace in Dean’s office, smiling at the photos on Dean’s shelves.  

“Have you met other alphas?” she asks.

Your nose scrunches up as you think of other alphas from the office, especially Michael, “Ugh. Yeah.”

She laughs quietly, “Not the same, huh?” You hum a quiet no. “Okay, I’ve got a weird question for you now. Can you answer something honestly?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“What does your Omega say?”

“What?” your face wrinkles with confusion. “I don’t get it.”

She huffs out a breath and you can image the exasperated look on her face about needing to explain this, “Like that little voice inside you, call it your instincts or whatever, but being an Omega, there’s a part of you that just knows what you want and need. I knew my Alpha was mine because of those feelings - like home, comfort, desire, fucking happiness - all rolled into one. It’s so cheesy, but I’m telling you it was like magic, like fucking Cupid shot me with an arrow and I couldn’t help myself. It was the same for him. We were made for each other and my inner Omega called out for him,” she sighs wistfully. “So, what does your Omega tell you?”

Driving on autopilot, the radio, the sounds of the city and the traffic all turn into white noise around you while you make your way to the home you share with Benny, your stomach gnawing with dread.

With your keys in your hand, you tap your knuckles against the hard surface. After a minute, the door cracks open, and Benny gives you a cold, blank stare.

“Don’t know why you’re knockin’, this is your house,” he says dismissively as he steps aside to let you in, his scent making you cough, suddenly unpleasant and stale to your extra sensitive nose.

“I didn’t know if it still would be.”

“I haven’t said anythin’.”

“Why not?” you question him timidly.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He shakes his head as he stares at the floor, “I don’t know, chere. It should have come from you. I deserve to hear it from you. Damn it, I deserve to know it all, and how long you’ve been playing me.”

Tears well up, lingering along your eyelashes as your lips tremble and you choke down sobs. You cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself while you shuffle to lean against the wall.

“No, Benny, it’s not like that. I-I,” you stop, trying to figure out what to even say to him. Nothing sounds right. I’m an omega. I was trying to fall more in love with you than with him. I’ve been trying to decide between two men I might be stuck with for life. “I made some mistakes, and I just lost control, it was...there’s a connection...I just don’t know if I feel -”

You can’t finish a single thought, Your mind races to put it all together, trying to put it nicely, trying to be honest, but you don’t even know what to be honest about. Benny stands at the other end of the room, lips in a tight line, chest huffing, but otherwise stiff and waiting for answers. His eyes bore into you as the silence drags on.

“How’s that even happen?”

“I don’t know. It got triggered somehow. It doesn’t even really matter anymore does it? I just came to get my things.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t be with you.”

“And who told you that? That Alpha?” He spits out the title. You remain still, afraid of the anger in his tone. “And you jus’ believed him? Let him take advantage of you like that? And then that other alpha on the street? You’re nothing but a piece of meat to them. Property to own and breed! Just the way he was looking at you...”

“Benny, it’s not like that,” you reply in your calmest tone.

“Were you gonna tell me? Bout him? Bout you? I know you don’t love me,” he says flatly. You open your mouth to argue, but he shakes his head to stop you, “I know it, but you could’ve. You were only gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life because this was all arranged, but don’t rub this in my face. You’re Omega and you were lying to me, stringing me along.”

Trying to shrink as small as possible, you tuck your head against your chest, mumbling low, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“What was your plan, were you gonna lie forever?”

Tears drip from your eyelashes, and you watch as the spots spread on the fabric of your clothes. You try to gather trying to gather enough strength to keep the shakiness from your voice. “I don’t know, Benny. I got here and it was all so strange, and the heat. God, how it hurt. I can’t control it - can’t control any of this, but I wanted to. For once, I wanted to control my life, and I don’t know what I would have done if Dean wasn’t here. Maybe go home, take suppressants and try to make you happy, make my parents happy. Who am I otherwise?”

“And all this because of what some alpha says?”

Your head jerks to try to nod, but you don’t quite get there, words catch in your throat.

His lip curls into a snarl as he continues, one finger jabbing at the air to make his point, “You were raised to know better. You know the stories of the abuse, the beatings to keep them in line. How they keep them pregnant all the time, just breeding them like some puppy mill bitch. And the alphas? They get to do whatever and whoever they want, long as they get theirs. So, that’s who you chose to listen to? You know better!”

“Benny, it’s not like that. There’s so much you don’t know. And Dean - he’s not like that.”

“He’s Alpha, that’s just how they are.” He shifts a little from a tense, defensive look, to something much more stoic. He moves toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder, talking to you in his placating business tone, “Know what? Why don’t we go on home and figure that out? Get away from all this, to let you think clearly with some fresh air and some familiar faces. I bet you’ll get all this cleared up and find out it’s been some mistake.”

“And you’re different? DO you even hear yourself right now? Betas aren’t any better than anyone else. I’ve seen how my mother was treated - like some ornament for my father to show off when needed, always keeping up the family image, never stepping out of line. Your family’s the same. Don’t you dare try to deny any of that.” Your voice shakes with emotion, finger pointed at him in accusation.

“Come on, now. You’re being ridiculous,” he shakes his head, “I’ve never treated you bad.”

“I know that, but…neither has Dean, and...” The anger deflates from you like a popped balloon, “You’re never going to understand, you can’t,” you whisper.

“You need to get away from that Alpha, let your family sort you out.”  

“Benny,” you sigh shaking your head with a pained look on your face, “I can’t-”

“The hell you can’t, or is it that you won’t? You’re sick,” he runs a hand over your cheek and forehead, “Look at you, you’re feverish.”

“I need him.” Your lower lip trembles as you look at him, feeling your heart physically ache in your chest. He pulls his hand away as though your fever burned him and rubs his fingers through his beard, looking off to the side in anger.

“So that’s that? That’s your decision? Dean - he ain’t just your boss.”

“He’s not my mate.”

“But he would be, wouldn’t he?”

Again, you fall silent, unable to say the words you know will hurt Benny; avoiding outright calling Dean your True Mate. “Benny I - I can’t change this, and I’m so tired of fighting it. It’s not fair to you, and I hope you find a beta who will make you happy-”

“Jus’ stop,” he holds a hand up to stop you, but doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m done, there’s nothing left to say if you’re an omega. You want that life? Go on then. Whatever we had is done and I don’t want your pity.”

Though he’s not your mate, the sting of rejection still hurts. “I’m just gonna, uhm, grab some stuff and get out of your way.”

“Just so y’know, I’m not defending you to your folks. I’m gonna go home and they’re gonna wanna know why you’re not with me. I ain’t a liar.”

“There’s nothing to defend, I’m still me, but don’t worry, I’m not putting that on you. I’ll tell them.”  

Your body reminds you of the urgency of your situation with a sharp sting of pain. You rush into your room, grabbing some clothes and toiletries, shoving them all messily into the first bag you find. When you leave the room, Benny is still in the same spot you’d left him, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor with feigned interest.

“Bye, Benny,” your voice cracks. He doesn’t look up, and after a few moments of the tense silence, you turn on your heel and leave, lip caught between your teeth as you try to keep yourself from crying again.

The whole drive over to Dean’s is excruciating. You grit your teeth through waves of cramps that make you tense up and keep you on edge. You curse every stupid traffic light that lengthens the journey. Sweat beads at your hairline, and makes the steering wheel feel sticky beneath your palms. The thought of Dean alone intensifying your heat with every moment.

His doorman calls up to inform Dean of your arrival before nodding to allow you into the elevator. The fabric of your shirt irritates your skin as your start to sweat through it, nerves making you pace back and forth in the elevator car as your ascend floor by floor. The elevator jerks to a stop before the doors roll open to a long, blank corridor. You follow the signs, chanting the unit number in your head so as not to mess it up.

You stare at the little gold plaque with the number on it for an extra few seconds, before gently tapping your knuckles against the door. You jump, yelping at the sudden movement, as Dean immediately flings open his door, fanning Dean-scented air your way. He looks a little startled to see you, and if it weren’t for nerves and shame, your muscles might’ve gone lax to let you collapse into him for relief.

It’s clear when your scent hits him, his mouth dropping open and shoulders rolling in an aggressive stance. He leans himself against the door frame, one arm propped at eye level, fist clenching into white knuckles, while his tongue sweeps across his lips.

“You’re in heat.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“And you’re here for me to help you?” He asks, eyes clenching shut and head shaking like he’s arguing with himself.

“I’m here because I need you.”

He growls so low it’s nearly a hum, then answers through grit teeth, “Your beta could’ve gotten you through it.”

“No,” you reply sadly, shaking your head.

“Because he doesn’t want you?” he supplies, eyes focused on your feet as they shuffle back and forth.

“I don’t want him. I need you.” He scoffs, followed quickly by a grunt.

“I need my Alpha.”

Part 10

Tags:  @mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @notnaturalanahi @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @mandilion76 @muliermalefici @doctorboo82 @boxywrites @essie1876 @sherrybaby14 @emmysthougts @sylverminx @someday-once @nostalgic-uncertainty @there-must-be-a-lock @carryonmyswansong @the-geeky-engineer @model-howell @ginamsmith @dr-dean @avasmommy224 @moonlitskinwalker @docharleythegeekqueen @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @theficlibrarium @littlestrawberrypizza @ceeceewinchester @zanthiasplace @quick-act-supernatural @caratala @huntingthefire @girlwithanantipossessiontattoo @bookshido @frick-you-im-a-princes @moonstar86 @charliebradbury1104 @harleenquinzzel @hawkeyethenerd @sassy-losechester @its-sophia-xo-love @blacktithe7updates @emilypkuzu @klaineaholic @worlds-forever-apart @jenna-luke @agentmarvel13 @lavieenlex @ilsawasanacrobat @peaceloveancolor @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @woodworthi666 @theoutlinez @dwi1babe @hexparker @love-me-some-pie21 @mr-misty-eye-therefore-i @http-girlwithnolife45 @quiddy-writes @ravengirl94 @donnaintx @thatkittykat13 @bluebird214 @fandomloveyeah @rubynationwins @formulafun @piperistheshite @fudging-jefferson-starships @evyiione @monotachiko @mrsdeanwinchester16 @someday-once @flirtswithdanger @spn-smut-destiel @mackiemcb @peachyenzo @end-lessnights @wedontapologize @goldenolaf25 @sleepy-moon-girl @parkersbackpack @lalahumes @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @sasstrashwithnocash @myloveforyouxx @4401lnc @justanotherreaderr @winchesterprincessbride @brindz30 @olivia3aivilo-blog @hereissomeapplejuice @yohanneswinchester @shewasonce @multifandombackpack @troubletrumble @1-fighting-dreamer @spnj2mfreak @rckyfrk @amandamdiehl @kazuha159 @killyoursoulmate @vvinch3st3r @pansexualgrapes @1-800-loony @moremusclemoresmile @pisces-cutie @jeanjeaniethings

#spn a/b/o #alpha!dean smith #alpha beta omega #alpha!dean smith x reader #a/b/o dynamics #beta!benny laffite #alpha!dean smith x omega!reader #spn au #spn fanfiction #dean smith x reader #dean smith a/b/o #benny lafitte angst #spn fanfic #my writing #try to understand series #it's a terrible life au

[deanssweetheart23]

Cross My Heart

Title: Cross My Heart (Soldier!Dean AU)

Summary: Dean Winchester is a man who’s been to war and back, a man that’s lost loved ones and has seen too much to believe in love or fate or destiny. But when he meets a girl that radiates kindness and warmth, one that’s ready to love his shadowy corners and accept him for the man he really is, he begins to change his mind. And, when she shows him the darkness in her light, he promises himself that, no matter how hard things get, he’ll never let go of her. Because, he realizes, he loves her. And that is the beginning and end of everything. 

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Mary and John Winchester (both mentioned), Benny Laffite, Sam Winchester

Word count: 7026 (I know, I know it’s a monster fic, but I promise, it’s worth it)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of a parent. Loss. Mentions of blood and of the warzone (nothing too graphic). Bad marital relationship (not Dean associated). Domestic Dean Bean (yup, this should be a warning)  

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @jpadjackles Double Birthday Challenge. My sweet B, thank you for letting me participate. I had the time of my life writing this and I can promise you, it ended up being a fic very close to my heart.

Special thank you to my twin @ravengirl94 for answering my stupid questions about the US Army, and being such an amazing best friend and beta. Without her, this story would have never been posted.

My prompt for this was Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg.(I am not American so every detail about the US Army in this fic is the result of research. If there’s a mistake in it, I apologize in advance.)

And, without further ado. Enjoy <3

The first time Dean sees her it’s on his mother’s birthday.

It’s a sunny day, sky a soft shade of blue, summer slowly creeping its way into his life and, even though he’s not sure of a lot of things, he somehow knows she would have loved this day.

He can almost see her, standing in the middle of their garden, sundress blowing with the wind, a smile gracing her lips while he’s whining because there’s no pie, and it’s all so tangible, so real, that he thinks he can reach out and touch her.

Her image disappears as soon as it’d appeared though, and he’s back in the middle of a crowded street, on his way home from training, all alone, with no plans for the day and no mum to celebrate with because his mother’s gone and nothing can bring her back.

The thought pulls at his heartstrings and he can feel it again, that sickening sensation of missing someone so much that all of his body cells are aching for her and he curses under his breath, already loathing the day.

And then she catches his eye.

She’s just sitting there, at the bay window of the old coffee shop that always seems to have some jazz melody pouring out of it, nose buried in a book.

She’s beautiful, he can tell that much, but what really stuns him is the way she’s holding the dog-eared book, fingers grazing the paper gently like it’s soft skin, eyes skimming the pages as she bits her bottom lip, a wrinkle in her brow. It’s been a while since Dean has seen someone so engrossed into something and he loses track of time, forgets that he’s burning holes on her until she looks up and her eyes meet his through the window.

And Dean is speechless, he’s terrified because he’s caught staring, but she smiles at him, soft and warm and genuine and it’s the purest, most breath-taking thing he’s ever seen.

So, he does what he’s never thought he’d do on a day that hurts him so much.

He returns the smile and watches as she goes back to her book, fingers tucking strays of hair behind her ear, then steals one, two, three long glances and leaves, mind already drifting to work and how he really needs to call his kid brother to see how he’s holding up.

He pretends he doesn’t think of her for the rest of the day.

Dean doesn’t believe in fate.

He doesn’t believe things happen for a reason and he’s seen enough to know that good things happen to bad people and bad to good ones and that there’s no one out there who gives a damn about how broken this world really is, no higher power that protects and loves and saves.

He’s seen kids dying, seen soldiers that had been laughing at his jokes the night before spitting blood from their mouths in the midst of a blaze of chaos and bullets. He’s seen his mum dying, his father turning into a shell of his old self and he’s returned from war only to wonder why.

Why the hell did he survive while others died?

And he knows, that there’s no one to answer.

So, yeah.

Dean doesn’t believe in fate.

But the next time he passes by that coffee shop, a couple of weeks later, he still stops for a second and lets his eyes drift to that bay window.

It’s stupid, he knows that, and makes him feel like he’s a character in a stupid Hallmark chick-flick, but he goes for it anyway, because, oddly enough, he feels like he’ll end up regretting it, if he just walks away like that.

But she’s not there, and for some reason, the day doesn’t seem as bright anymore and meeting with Benny for beers later doesn’t sound as fun.

Trying to swallow his disappointment, he crosses the street, pointedly ignoring that little building that has always seemed like a little piece of another world in the middle of his town.

He doesn’t go back for a month.

Dean’s almost convinced he’ll never see her again.

It makes sense, of course, because she’s nothing but a stranger that caught his eye for just a split second, one of those people that are somehow supportive characters in someone’s story without even knowing it, but it still baffles him a bit, still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks of her.

Not that he thinks of her too often.

Nope.

He doesn’t.

But she’s a nice memory, lively and serene, and the image of her lost in her own world, scanning the pages of a book like it holds the world’s most precious secrets always manages to put a smile on his face in the darkest of hours, because, admittedly, he doesn’t believe in magic, but it’s comforting to know there are still a few people in the world that do.

So, he stops by the coffee shop a couple of times, but she’s never there and he loses all hope.

And then it happens.

He’s leaning against his shiny muscle car, right outside Benny’s house, arms folded in front of his chest, eyes focused on the front porch, when he hears a loud thump, followed by a string of extremely colorful expletives he doesn’t even know existed, and he stops and takes a breath to remind himself that he doesn’t have to reach for his gun, that he has no gun, because he’s safe, he’s back home in the States and his mind is just playing tricks on him.

He doesn’t have time to really dwell on it though because-

“Fuck. Fuck, fuckety fuck, fuck.” Someone mutters, voice soft and surprisingly pleasant.

And he doesn’t even realize it at first, but he’s already next to Sailor Mouth, and when he mumbles an  are you alright, ma’am and she turns to look at him, he swears that his whole world stops for a minute because it’s her.

It’s the girl from the coffee shop, cheeks a little flushed, hair a little disheveled and he wants to say something, he wants to say anything, but he can’t seem to find the words.

She smiles.

It’s gorgeous and genuine and a bit sheepish and he notes that if he’s thought she was beautiful before, now he knows she’s stunning.

“I’m fine. I’m just… Did I say all those things out loud?”

He laughs.

Even he is surprised at how easily the sound seems to bubble up his throat.

“Yeah, pretty sure you just did.”

“Oh God. I’m… It’s been a long day and I-”

“’S okay, kid.” He chuckles because she’s flustered and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Then. “Here, lemme help with that.” He offers and crouches to the ground to pick up the books she’d dropped, eyes sweeping over the titles quickly.

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” she implores, brow raised.

“Nothing, just,” he smirks a little, smug and playful, then licks his lips, “I didn’t really know people are still into Elizabeth Barret Browning. Since this is, you know, the 21st century.”

“Hey.” She whines, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Elizabeth Browning is frigging awesome, man.”

“Sure she is.”

She’s bothered now, forehead puckered and eyes ablaze with a sort of brightness that surprises him.

“Are you –how can you not like her? What’s next, are you going tell me you hate Shakespeare?”

“Well,” he chortles, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, “I wasn’t going to say anything but-”

“Oh, c’mon. He’s Shakespeare.” She chants, spread-armed shrug as she stares at him in shock.

“Hmmm. Bit overrated if you ask me. Now Vonnegut on the other hand…”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What could you possibly have against Slaughterhouse 5?”

“What could you possibly have against Hamlet?” she retorts, waggling the book she’s been holding.

“Look,” he tries again, titling his head to the left, “all I’m saying is the guy just whines too much, you know? And.” He jabs a finger at her. “He’s disgustingly sweet.”

“Right.” She huffs out, sarcasm laced in her voice. “Do you have a pen?”

“What?”

“Do you have a pen? It’s a simple question.” She states, then thinks about something and reaches for her bag. “Never mind, I got one. Just give me your hand.”

“I, uh,” he pauses, eyes drifting to the letters sprawled over his palm, “Sonnet 138?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you-”

“You should read it. Pretty sure it’ll change your mind on your whole disgustingly sweet thing.” She gushes, pink lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile that was one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“You’re-”

“Awesome. Yeah, I know.” She says, Y/E/C orbs drifting up to meet his, and beams so brightly he can’t really argue with her.

So, instead, he grins and just stares because there’s nothing else he can really do but search for colors and light and life into her eyes while he listens to her speak, about Shakespeare and the sonnets and how she’s definitely gonna prove him wrong.

He stops by the bookstore on his way home that day.

Dean’s nervous.

Sitting right next to her, he drinks in the way she throws her head back when she laughs at his joke, the way her perfume blends with the fragrant smell of fresh coffee and, even though he’s so forever stunned by how easy almost everything seems to be with her, part of him is still terrified that he’ll mess something up and make a fool of himself in front of her, like a teenage boy that just had a girl say hello to him for the first time.

“So,” she says, drumming her fingers on the table, soft smile gracing her lips, “I got an important question for you, Dean.”

He hums and arches a sly brow.

“All ears, sweetheart.”

“Apple pecan, blueberry buttermilk or coffee, walnut and chocolate chip?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She laughs.

“They’re muffin flavors.” She explains, reaching for the catalogue. “You said you’ve never been to this coffee shop, right?” A nod. “Well. You got to try the muffins. They’re the best in the entire town. So. Apple pecan, blueberry buttermilk or coffee, walnut and chocolate chip?”

“I don’t really, uh… I’m not a muffin guy.”

A scowl.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“Not a muffin guy?”

“Yeah. I… Pie. I love pie.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried these muffins.”

He chuckles, corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk.

“Kid, no offense, but ain’t nothing in this world that’s gonna make me give up pie.”

Her lips twitch at his words, something he can’t quite put his finger on dancing in her eyes.

“You mean like there was nothing in this world that could make you come to this place?”

“Nope. See, that’s different.”

“It’s different because…?”

He smiles, a boyish grin that makes him look, at least, ten years younger.

“The only reason I agreed to this is because you said you loved this place.”

“And?”

“And I’m clearly trying very hard to impress you.”

“Clearly.”

“Now, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she says, mischief  coating her features, “that when the girl you’re trying very hard to impress wants you to try the muffins, you try the muffins, Dean.”

He laughs at that, but his eyes soften as they flicker over her face slowly.

“What? What was that look for?”

“Nothing…” he replies, scratching the back of his neck. “You just… You really love this place, don’t you?”

A breathless smile.

“Yeah, I really do.” She whispers, looking at him from the rim of her mug.  She pauses for a second, seemingly thinking about something, then licks her lips and continues. “My dad… He and I don’t really get along, -we never did quite frankly, so when things got a bit tough at home, my mum would bring me over here for breakfast. It was kind of our thing, you know?” she grins at the memory and looks at the table, seemingly counting the grains of sugar she’d spilled minutes earlier. “We still stop by when she visits.”

He sees the serenity that has settled into her eyes then, notices the tenderness that’s basically strapped into her soft voice, and grins, because it’s almost as if her love for that place seeps into his bare skin and makes him feel lightheaded.

Glancing at the silver band he never takes off, he twists it around his finger and just thinks for a minute.

And then-

“My mum used to take me fishing.” He tells her, absentmindedly cracking his knuckles. “See, my dad has always loved it, but he’s pretty bad at it. And I mean pretty bad, kid.” He chuckles, rough and low at the back of his throat, eyes glancing out of the bay window. “She’s always lied to him about it though. Didn’t want to hurt his feeling. So, when he said he wanted to teach me, she just took me to the lake one day and said Son, I’m gonna show you the ropes here but if your dad asks, this was all him.”

Y/N laughs at his words, nose scrunched up in the cutest of ways and leans closer, fingers tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear.

“She sounds amazing.”

Her words are like a stab in the heart.

“Yeah. She, uh, she was.” He rasps, averting his gaze. “She died. When I was four.” He pauses, hoping that she didn’t hear the way his voice wavered. “Fire accident.”

And he waits for her to look at him like he’s a lost puppy, waits for some pitiful comment to leave her lips but instead-

“God –I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s –you’re fine, don’t worry.” He cuts her off but she hesitates, looks at him like she might want to apologize again, so he reaches for her hand, his knuckles scraped against her soft skin. “Seriously. We’re good.”

Cracking a small, grateful smile, she traces the back of his hand slowly.

“Well. I know it’s not what you want to hear but she… She would have been proud of you.”

And she might think it isn’t much, but he feels so overwhelmed, so absolutely floored by that statement, by the kindness in her eyes and that genuine smile she’s wearing that he wants to lean over and kiss her.

He doesn’t.

“Give it a little time, kid. You might change your mind.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” She blinks. “Unless you’re a serial killer.” A chuckle. Brows raised in question. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

“Nope.” He grins, playfulness coating his features. “But you know what they say. Got to keep my options open.”

She barks out a laugh at that, the sparkling sound spilling from her lips and filling the space in between them with nothing but gleam and sunshine and, despite the fact he’s at a coffee shop with colorful walls and jazz vinyl records, all he sees, all he can see is the bright girl in front of him, the one that’s still holding his hand and smiles the most radiant smile he’s ever seen.

He’s never felt quite at home until now.

It takes him six more dates to kiss her.

He’s walking her back home from a carnival, small hand in his large one, fingers soundly intertwined together, and she looks so absolutely breath-taking under the moonlight that all he can do is stare, at the way the soft glow dances across her face, the way her eyes shine like diamonds, the way her lips curve up into the perfect smile.

So, when they stop under a lamppost and he says something that makes them both laugh until they can’t breathe, he gathers every ounce of courage, presses his forehead against hers, clasps the side of her face with his hand, and when her eyes flutter shut for just a second, he slowly ducks in and brushes his lips against hers.

It’s a ghost of a kiss, breathy and attentive at first, but then she whimpers into his mouth and he deepens it, winds an arm around her waist and, God, she tastes like whiskey and cinnamon and that cherry pie they shared earlier.

He’s never tasted anything better.

Dean’s happy.

It’s been there for a while now, he supposes, hidden in secret smiles and quiet afternoons spent in that coffee shop she loves so much, but it hasn’t really hit him, not until he sees her in his kitchen on a Saturday morning.

She’s just standing in front of the counter, dressed in one of his crisp white shirts, coffee pot in hand while she hums a familiar tune under her breath and he stares at her, bones turning into liquid at the way she moves into the little room like she’s always belonged there, and he can feel it, he can feel happiness and serenity and warmth pulling at his heartstrings.

Quietly, he wraps his arms around her waist and presses his lips against that soft spot on her neck that never fails to make her shudder.

“Mmmm. Good morning to me.” He mumbles, the words caressing her skin while they make their way into the fresh morning air.

She laughs then, that bright, lively laugh that he’s come to love and turns around to face him, hands finding their way around his neck within seconds.

“There you are, sleepyhead.” She murmurs, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I thought you’d never get out of bed.”

Instead of replying, he smirks, all playfulness and mischief, lifts her up and sets her on the counter, long fingers caressing the side of her face gently.

“Yeah, well” he starts, tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear, “I didn’t exactly get much sleep last night.”

“Or maybe you’re just getting old.”

Growling, he rolls his eyes at her raised brows and gets an arm around her shoulders.

“’M gonna pretend I didn’t hear that because you’re cute and last night was pretty awesome.” He gloats, nudging his nose up against hers.

“Awesome, huh?”

“Kid, you have no idea.” He hums and leans in to kiss her, lazy and soft, grinning a little into it because, dammit, it’s a good day.

It’s all pastel touches and warm lips after that and when they finally break off, he braces his forehead against hers and takes a deep breath.

“You look good in that shirt by the way.” He whispers, parting her legs with his thigh and wrapping them around his waist.

She beams at him, cheeks going a bit pinkish.

“I do?”

“Yeah. As a matter of fact,” he starts, fingers undoing some buttons as they work their way down her breasts, “I think it looks better on you.”

She chuckles at that but then he latches his mouth on her neck and she sighs, that little sigh that lets him know he’s doing everything just right, the one he loves to pull out of her whenever he can, and, Jesus, he wants to-

“Easy there, cowboy.” She chuckles. “We got a date with your brother in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, I know.” He says, tone matter of fact as his lips move along her sternum. “He can,” another kiss, “wait.”

“No, he can’t.” she objects, but he can feel her heartbeat against his chest, knows exactly the kind of effect his ministrations have on her. “D., I’m serious about this.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, sucking a kiss into her collarbone.

“Okay, you really need to,” she pants a little, “you need to stop that. We can’t be late.”

“Why not?” he implores, pulling back.

“Because I can’t just… I mean, I want…” she huffs out a breath in frustration, clearly struggling with her thoughts, then purses her lips and drops her eyes to the floor. “What if your brother doesn’t like me?”

“Not like –kid, how could someone not like you?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, clutching at his arm, “why don’t you ask my dad?”

And he knows it’s not supposed to sound bitter, he knows she’s just being sarcastic, but he can still taste the sourness in his own tongue, because it’s something that could have dropped from his lips, because sometimes he can see shadowy corners of himself in her lightness, can see scars that for some messed up reason match his.

“Yeah, but to Sam’s defense, your dad’s a dick. My brother’s a good kid.”

“I know that but-”

Warm lips brush up against hers, soft but persistent, and for a moment, she loses herself completely in him and everything he is.

“You worry too much, sweetheart.”

“Well, I can’t really-”

“Sssh. Lemme help with that.” He breathes against her ear as he nibbles on her lobe, hand sliding from her waist to the inside of her thighs.

“You are so not helping.” She chuckles, breathy and loose.

He hums.

“D., you really have to stop. I have to go back home.”

“You know,” Dean says as he tugs her closer, pecking her forehead sweetly, “this would all be easier if you just lived here.”

The words are out of his mouth almost immediately and she freezes and goes tense under his arms while the whole room falls silent.

And, so, he waits.

He waits for one, two, three long bits and, when she still doesn’t speak, he begins to second-guess his own self, and starts to think that maybe it’s too big of a step for them to make, or that perhaps she doesn’t want to move in with someone who can’t even whisper those three little words to her, someone who’s less than anything she’ll ever deserve.

“Are you…” she lets out a chuckle and grazes his back with her fingers nervously, eyes wide and confused. “D., do you really mean that?”

Licking his lips, he nods and tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You spend most of the time here anyways.”

“Yeah, but do you want me here? Because what we have right now-”

“What we have right now is great.” Dean interrupts her and intertwines his fingers with hers soundly, smiling when he feels her squeezing in response.

“That’s what I’m saying. And I don’t want you to-”

“No, just…” he shushes her with a finger on the lips and chuckles a little at her adorable pout. “You asked me what I want, right?”

She nods.

“I want to have this. Every day. With you.” He explains, kissing her wrist. “So,” he locks eyes with her, all openness and softness, “move in with me.”

And he expects her to say yes, expects her to laugh and squeal and giggle in his arms, but instead, she ducks in, smooths her thumb over his jaw and kisses him, deep and ardent, and when her fingers sink into his hair he thinks that, yeah, he could really get used to this.

“I guess we’re doing this then.”

“God, yes…” She breathes, face breaking into a breathless smile, so bright and so sunny that it reminds him of spring and sunflowers.

So, he chuckles and kisses her, fingertips traveling to the junction of her thigh and hip slowly.

Moaning a bit, she squeezes her legs around his waist and he smirks against her mouth and hoists her into his arms.

“Dean, what on Earth are you-”

“’M taking you back to bed,” he hushes her, pressing his lips against hers.

“Your brother is-”

“Don’t care. Want you, sweetheart.” He rasps, mouth up her jaw. “Want you so much.”

Being late for lunch turned out to be just fine.

Dean’s in love with her.

He has been for a long time, maybe even since the very beginning, but the deeper he dives into her, grasping quirks and scars and warmth, the freer he falls, feelings he didn’t even know existed wrapping around his heart like vines and reviving every withered, every dead cell.

It’s something that’s always there, in boisterous afternoons spent within the crowds, joined hands a cardinal proof that he’s not alone anymore, in quick kisses and witty remarks whispered during hurried coffee dates on bustling days, but the sentiment is always louder, always purer in moments like this, moments of stagnation, when his whole world is wrapped up in her scent and the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin on his.

As if she’s just read his mind and knows he’s thinking of her, Y/N stretches out in the hammock, cat-like, and nuzzles his chest adorably, prompting a soft chuckle from him.

“You falling asleep on me, sweetheart?” he whispers, combing his fingers through her hair.

“Mmmm… ‘M just tired.”

“Told you we shouldn’t have driven four hours to see this place.” He teases and before he even has the chance to add anything she opens her eyes and growls at him, irritation coating her features. “Can’t see why you love it so much.”

“New Hampshire is gorgeous and you know it, heathen.” She gushes, ruffling his hair.

“Pffft. ‘S okay.”

“Yeah, right.” she huffs out, looking up at him. “You love this view.”

Grinning, he pulls her impossibly close, and locks eyes with her, in love with the way they shine brightly under the afternoon sun.

“Yeah,” he whispers, not averting his gaze. “I do.” A kiss on the tip of her nose. “I really do.”

He expects her to laugh, waits for her to blush or smile or call him a cuddly ol’ teddy bear like she usually does in occasions like this, but she just looks at him, Y/E/C orbs burning into his with an intensity that reminds him of lazy mornings and tender glances, of the nights he loves to spend plugged deep into her, smoothing calloused hands over bare skin, exploring edges and curves and pulling shaky whispers of soft love out of her.

It’s that look that pulls him right in, the one that mesmerizes and terrifies him at the same time because he knows exactly what it means.

So, he lets out a nervous laugh and mumbles a what? under his breath, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Nothing I’m just… I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

And he’s never thought that he could be that one good thing in somebody’s life but it’s so genuine and sweet-spoken that he believes it.

“You going all cheesy on me, kid?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Shut up.” She whines, smacking his arm. “I mean that. Before you I thought I would –I didn’t believe I’d get to have something like this. The way I grew up, I-”

“Hey,” he cuts her off, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, “we’re not your parents. We’re never going to be your parents.” He promises, clasping the side of her face.

“D., -”

“Don’t. Kid, you have no idea how much I want this to work.” He objects and reaches out for her hand, interlocking their fingers together. “God, you don’t even know how much I-” he pauses, and swallows, all kinds of pent up emotions running through his veins, threatening to spill into his voice.

“How much you what?”

He takes a deep breath then and looks into her soft eyes, drinking in the way they’re staring back at him like he’s her entire world, the way her lips are pursed in an adorable frown, the way she furrows her brows in concern and she’s so unbelievably pure in that moment, so real, that he wants to let go, wants to stop holding back, to stop being so frigging afraid.

And so-

“How much I love you.” he whispers, just three little words, out in the open. “Sweetheart, I-”

“I love you too.” She cuts him off, propping herself on her elbow to straddle him, hands cupping his face as she leans in. “I love you so much.”

And then she kisses him like she’s never kissed him before, deep and demanding and a bit desperate, and, he grips at her, lets his hands wander beneath her sundress, and he knows.

She’s been the one for him all along.

Dean’s going to break her heart.

He should have seen it coming really, should have known that nothing good would ever come out of a relationship with him, but he’d been so fascinated by her kind heart and her sweet acceptance, he’d fallen so stupidly and insanely in love with her that he’d forgotten he was practically poison for everyone and anyone around him.

And yet, now that she’s looking at him, soft, wide eyes curious and concerned, he knows he’s going to break her in ways no other man ever had.

“D? Everything okay?” she implores, hand reaching out to touch his and he shuts his eyes closed for a second and lets himself get lost in her softness.

He blinks and nods, squeezing her fingers in response.

“Was that your dad? You sounded kind of-”

“No, that was –kid, that was my CO.”

“Your CO?” she repeats, forehead puckered. “But I thought you said you had the day off .”

“I did. I do…” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly. “He, uh, he wanted to tell me that I…”  A glance that’s filled with sorrow and regret. “I got called back on active duty.”

Silence.

Everything around them, every single sound fades into the background until there’s silence and nothing else and even though she doesn’t say anything, Dean swears that every single thing she’s feeling floats across her face like a lonely cloud on the pristine sky.

“But you’re on reserve duty, right? They can’t just do that.”

“’S not that simple, Y/N. If they need me, they can do pretty much anything.”

She nods, eyes a little lost and face white as a hospital sheet and, God,  he wants to take her in his arms and tell her that’s everything is going to be okay, but he can’t lie to her.

“So, you have to go.” She whispers slowly, eyes drifting to the spilled coffee in front of her.

“So, I have to go.”

“How long do we-”

“A month.”

She hums, biting on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, orbs dark and misty.

His stomach plummets.

“You’re leaving in a month.”

He mumbles a yeah under his breath and notices the tears in her eyes.

He almost chocks on dry air.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, running a hand over his jaw, “don’t go crying on me now, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry.” She whines, sniffing a bit. “I’m just… D., I can’t-”

“You’re not going to.” He objects, reaching up to wipe away the wetness. She leans into his touch, almost absentmindedly, and he smiles just a little, despite himself. “’S not my first rodeo.”

She laughs, bitter and wrecked.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Well, it should.” He smirks, all smug and swagger, even if he’s dying on the inside. “I’m not gonna die, kid. I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

She looks at him, looks into his eyes, searching for something.

“Do you promise?”

Instead of replying, he smiles, soft but honest and reaches out for her, manipulating their fingers until they’re laced together, then brings their joined hands to his lips.

“Cross my heart.” He vows and kisses her knuckles sweetly.

He lets himself store the feeling of skin against lips on memory but the serenity that simple intimacy gives him evaporates almost immediately, because his mind drifts to the small velvet box that’s been hiding in the pocket of his leather jacket for almost a month, the one with the elegant diamond ring his mum used to own.

And he prays to God he’ll get to keep his promise.

Dean’s been gone for 240 days.

He sends letters, even calls when he can, but she misses him, misses his scent and his smile, the way he throws his entire body into laughter, the way his eyes shine like caramel when the light catches them just right.

But she holds on.

She reads all the messy scribbles he sends, no matter how bedraggled and jumbled they are, listens to his gruff voice as it blends with the sound of static when he tells her he misses her and he can’t wait to kiss the hell out of her again, drives around his Baby with love and makes sure Sam’s doing okay just like she promised him she’d do.

And she waits.

She waits and hopes, no matter how much it tears her apart, because there’s nothing else she can do.

And then there’s a knock on the door one day.

She’s in the kitchen with Benny, making dinner for them and his girlfriend, when she hears it, a loud thump that sounds like a porcelain heart breaking.

Slowly, she reaches out for the towel, but Benny beats her to it, laying a hand over her shoulder.

“I got it, Muffin. Emily’s probably here early anyways.” He tells her, blue eyes lighting up in adoration and she chuckles a little at how love-struck he looks, and goes back to stirring the pasta, throwing a Call me if you need anything and for God’s sake, don’t have sex on my couch over her shoulder.

And she waits for Benny’s warm voice to echo in the rooms of the house, waits for Emily’s laugh to fill the place, waits for them to come into the kitchen, Benny’s hand wrapped around her waist, no matter how much the blonde woman claims to hate it, but nothing happens and she knows something is wrong.

So, she almost storms into the living room and stops dead in her track as soon as she sees them.

Sam standing at the door, tears in his eyes.

Dean’s dog-tag in Benny’s hands.

And she knows what that means, they all know what that means, but she still shakes her head, wraps her arms around her middle and mutters a broken no under her breath.

“Y/N, I-” Sam starts, taking a step forward, voice hoarse and numb.

“No. This can’t –there must have been some sort of mistake. Dean can’t –he’s not…” she chocks, despite the tightness in her throat.

“There was a road side bomb.” Sam tries to explain, taking a tentative step forward. “Dean –he was at a convoy somewhere with his team.”

“No.” she almost screams, bumping into the sofa. “He’s not…. He promised me. He said he’d come back, he…” she pauses and takes a deep breath, tears streaming down her face, then runs a hand over it. “I got one of his letters yesterday, he can’t just-”

“They were ambushed, Y/N. No one –only one person survived the explosion and he’s in critical condition. The bodies, they’re…. charred up, no one can know-”

“So maybe he wasn’t there.” She cries, hope floating across her face “Maybe this is some sort of mistake and he’s-”

“He’s not. He’s… Y/N, my brother’s dead.”

My brother’s dead.

The words echo soundlessly into her head as Dean’s smile flashes before her eyes.

She remembers the first time she saw him, remembers how bright his eyes were as he helped her pick up the books she’d dropped and teased her about Shakespeare.

There was a road side bomb.

She remembers the look of pure interest and concentration on his face as she talked to him about her favorite book on their first date, remembers the way his eyes sparkled every time he talked about Sammy.

Dean –he was at a convoy somewhere with his team.

She remembers the way his lips felt against her own every time he kissed her, the way their bodies always fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, the way he worshiped here, passion and lust blending with tenderness and love every time he wrapped himself around her.

The bodies, they’re…. charred up

She remembers the nights they spent laying side by side after he’d woken up from yet another nightmare, looking at each other’s eyes and muttering secrets to one another until they fell asleep,  the days of pure bliss spent by the lake at New Hampshire, filled with swimming and love-making and laughs and soft, tender touches.

My brother’s dead.

She remembers every graze of skin, every whispered promise, every smile and every tear and she realizes she’ll never have that again.

My brother’s dead.

My brother’s dead.

My brother’s dead.

She falls into her knees and begins to sob.

She’s sitting there again.

The girl with the Y/H/C hair and the bright Y/E/C eyes that found love in that small coffee shop is sitting next to the bay window, a Vonnegut book in hand while she sips at her beverage leisurely.

But she’s different now. She drives a 67 Chevy Impala and always wears a dog tag around her neck. She doesn’t radiate hope and bliss like she used to and doesn’t believe in magic anymore.

It’s the first time she visits the coffee shop in six months. She’s tried to stop by before, tried to go there with Benny or Sam but she never made it to the door because everything hurt too much.

Everything reminded her of Dean, of the day everything started, of the day that signified their end even if they both hadn’t realized it back then, and she couldn’t let herself be buried in that blur of emotions that just wouldn’t let her be, wouldn’t let her breathe properly.

Today’s different though.

Today she knows that they would have gone there together, so she’s there, sitting at the table they used to sit, pretending that he’s there with her, that he holds her hand and whispers jokes into her ear, laughing that rich, warm laugh of his that she misses so damn much.

The bell above the door dings and pulls her out of her thoughts, but she’s too overwhelmed and too spent to care.

She hears footsteps, feels someone burning holes at her from behind and, God, she wants to yell and cry at the same time because she’s so tired, so absolutely drained from all these people that look at her like she’s a beaten puppy.

But then-

“You know for a birthday girl, you look pretty miserable.”

And she freezes because that voice is so familiar, it’s the one that has been sneaking into the corners of her mind for months, the one she wishes she could hear again, just once, and it’s loud and clear and there.

So, she turns around slowly and when freckles and broad shoulders swim into view the breath hitches in her throat because the man standing in front of her might look older than he really is, burdened with death and ghosts of loved ones and loss, he might look worn out and tired, but his eyes, those eyes that can turn into a million different shades of green in the blink of an eye, are as bright as she remembers them when they lock into hers.

“You’re –you’re back. You’re alive.” She stutters stupidly, tears glistening as she gets on her feet.

“Well,” he smiles that crooked smile she’s missed so much, scratching the back of his neck nonchalantly, “I promised, didn’t I?”

And it’s all she needs to hear, everything she needs to know, it’s an answer that’s so simple, so solely and uniquely Dean, that she breaks into sobs in the middle of the coffee shop until his large hands wrap around her waist, pull her to his solid chest and squeeze like he’s afraid she’s not real, that someone will take her away from him again.

“Ssssh,” he coos, kissing the top of her head softly “it’s okay. I’ve got you now, sweetheart.”

Another sob rips through her and she clutches at his shirt, body wracking with defeat.

“They said –they told me you were dead.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Dean drops another kiss on her hair and then cups her chin and forces her to look at him, eyes dark and filled with unshed tears, a fading scar between his brows.

“They thought I was.” he explains, dabbing away the saltiness. “After the bomb went off, I was... I was trapped behind enemy lines. Busted my leg real bad too.”

“Are you-”

“’M fine. The pain –I could take that… But knowing I couldn’t get to you… Knowing you thought I was dead, it killed me. And I was worried… When I finally found a way to get back here I thought you’d have-”

“Don’t,” she pleas, cupping the side of his face, “don’t say that. You’re…”

He nods slowly and sucks in a breath.

“Just,” she sighs in a whose, grazing his jawline gently, “never do that to me again.”

He smiles, the first real smile in over a year.

“Never again, kid.” He promises, voice wavering, mouth millimeters away from hers. “Never again.”

She laughs the laugh of a mad woman, broken and relieved and overwhelmed, and he leans in, brushes his nose against her jaw and ever so slowly, he captures her lips with his.

He tells her everything she needs to know with that kiss, takes everything she has to give, pain and tears, love and longing, and it’s like she breathes life into him all over again, it’s like that first kiss under the lamppost in the middle of the street on a summer night, a kiss that’s able to put all of his broken pieces back together and make him feel whole again.

And Dean tastes everything, drinks everything in and gives it back tenfold, knowing that he’s really back and she’s real and she’s his, she’s always been his and he smiles against her lips.

He’s right where he belongs.

Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @percywinchester27 @hannahindie @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trexrambling @pickupthatamulet @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @winchestersnco @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @ruprecht0420 @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @keepcalmandcarryondean  @escabell @thevioletthourr @kathaswings @tiny-friggin-human​ @winchesters-flannels​ @akshi8278​ @atari-writes​ @emilywritesaboutdean​ @ofloveandlonging​ @mandilion76​ @polina-93​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ 

Cross My Heart Tags: @jensen-akf​ @samsfabuloushair​ @shamelesslydean​

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #au!dean x reader #jpadjackles double birthday challenge #soldier!dean x reader #au!dean winchester x reader #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #you x dean winchester #spn au #spn fluff #dean fluff #dean angst #spn insert #spn insert au #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader angst #not my gifs #not my pictures

[ao3feed-crowley]

Make You Feel My Love

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

by Lazarus163

Benny lost it all. Now, grieving the loss of his mate and pup, a stranger pops into his life that may change everything. His name is Dean. A Male Omega who ran into the road one summer night broken and bruised.

How a stranger could change everything.

Dean was in trouble. After spending ten years locked away in place where regaurd for human life was none existent. Where you were given a number and your name taken from you. Where the cocaine and heroine ran rampant and every choice you made could possibly cost you your life. A place he could only describe as hell. One of dirty beds and nice suites where people in high government positions would go as an "escape." One where he had seen murder, where he had felt knots ripped from his body.

He finally escapes, unknowingly falling in the path of a life he never knew he wanted. One where it smelled like home with every inhale of breath and every shared glance with a man he thought he couldn't trust. A place where he could finally see a future that wasn't cut short by the barrel of gun waved in his face. A home. Somewhere where he felt loved. Someone to love. His Alpha.

Words: 20268, Chapters: 6/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Benny Laffite, Dean Winchester, Missouri Moseley, Sam Winchester, Andrea Kormos (mentions and in flashback), Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, Castiel, Victor Henriksen, John Winchester (mentioned), Mary Winchester (mentioned), Gabriel, Lucifer, Michael, Lisa Braeden, Crowley (Supernatural)

Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Benny Lafitte, Omega Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Victor Is A Horrible Person, With No Regard For Human Life, Dean Has Memory Loss, Dean is afraid, Male Omega's Are Rare, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Dean Has A Stutter, Benny Is Broken, Missouri Is Too Smart For Her Own Good, Dean cries A LOT, Dean Really Needs A Hug, Dean Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Benny Is Grieving, Missouri Is A Sweetheart, Song Lyrics, Dean Has Withdrawals, Dean And Benny Kiss, Sadness, Benny Hated Victor, Even Though He Doesn't Know That Victor Hurt Dean, Victor Lives In Jackman, Dean Speaks About Where He Was, Charlie Missed Dean, Sam missed Dean, Crying, Angst, Sweet Kisses, Dean Trusts Benny, Benny Cares About Dean, Benny And Dean Are Really Starting To Care About Each Other, Fluff, Dean Wets Himself, Bed-Wetting, Dean Hates Himself, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Ellen Is Like A Mom To Dean, More Stuff will be Added, Possibly Some Romance..., Denny Is Official, Caring, Victor Is Sadistic, Dean Is Afraid To Get Help, He Really Needs A Hug Right About Now, Benny is a sweetheart, More stuff to be added

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Crowley

[ao3feed-castiel]

Make You Feel My Love

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

by Lazarus163

Benny lost it all. Now, grieving the loss of his mate and pup, a stranger pops into his life that may change everything. His name is Dean. A Male Omega who ran into the road one summer night broken and bruised.

How a stranger could change everything.

Dean was in trouble. After spending ten years locked away in place where regaurd for human life was none existent. Where you were given a number and your name taken from you. Where the cocaine and heroine ran rampant and every choice you made could possibly cost you your life. A place he could only describe as hell. One of dirty beds and nice suites where people in high government positions would go as an "escape." One where he had seen murder, where he had felt knots ripped from his body.

He finally escapes, unknowingly falling in the path of a life he never knew he wanted. One where it smelled like home with every inhale of breath and every shared glance with a man he thought he couldn't trust. A place where he could finally see a future that wasn't cut short by the barrel of gun waved in his face. A home. Somewhere where he felt loved. Someone to love. His Alpha.

Words: 2916, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Benny Laffite, Dean Winchester, Missouri Moseley, Sam Winchester, Andrea Kormos (mentions and in flashback), Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, Castiel, Victor Henriksen, John Winchester (mentioned), Mary Winchester (mentioned)

Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Benny Lafitte, Omega Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Victor Is A Horrible Person, With No Regard For Human Life, Dean Has Memory Loss, Dean is afraid, Male Omega's Are Rare, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

#IFTTT #cas #castiel #spn #supernatural #ao3feed

[ao3feed-charliebradbury]

Make You Feel My Love

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

by Lazarus163

Benny lost it all. Now, grieving the loss of his mate and pup, a stranger pops into his life that may change everything. His name is Dean. A Male Omega who ran into the road one summer night broken and bruised.

How a stranger could change everything.

Dean was in trouble. After spending ten years locked away in place where regaurd for human life was none existent. Where you were given a number and your name taken from you. Where the cocaine and heroine ran rampant and every choice you made could possibly cost you your life. A place he could only describe as hell. One of dirty beds and nice suites where people in high government positions would go as an "escape." One where he had seen murder, where he had felt knots ripped from his body.

He finally escapes, unknowingly falling in the path of a life he never knew he wanted. One where it smelled like home with every inhale of breath and every shared glance with a man he thought he couldn't trust. A place where he could finally see a future that wasn't cut short by the barrel of gun waved in his face. A home. Somewhere where he felt loved. Someone to love. His Alpha.

Words: 2916, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Benny Laffite, Dean Winchester, Missouri Moseley, Sam Winchester, Andrea Kormos (mentions and in flashback), Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, Castiel, Victor Henriksen, John Winchester (mentioned), Mary Winchester (mentioned)

Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Benny Lafitte, Omega Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Victor Is A Horrible Person, With No Regard For Human Life, Dean Has Memory Loss, Dean is afraid, Male Omega's Are Rare, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2fn4Fhd

#ao3feed #fanfic #fic #spn #charlie bradbury #cqc

[geek-22]

Purgatory: Chapter 2

Summary;

After being pulled into the portal Artemis wakes up in a forest with no idea how he got there. He's stuck in Purgatory with an infuriating vampire, trying to find a way out. Unfortunately for Artemis, greater things are at work... Or: Heaven is really bad at orchestrating the universe. An angel loses Artemis' paperwork and all hell breaks loose. Literally. Or: Artemis is stuck in Purgatory, makes a friend, falls into Hell gets tortured/Stockholm syndrome and generally loses his shit.

Pairings/characters: Artemis Fowl, Benny Laffite

Word count: 2,972

Warnings: Violence.

AN:

Full credit to my wonderful beta, Anastacius_Arklov! Drop a comment below if you feel like it! Any comments welcome and encouraged! What did you guys think? I am so excited for my plan! *cackles evilly* MWAHAHAHA

--------------------

Dragon Protocol

It had been a week since their first meeting, and despite his mistrust Artemis had taken to chatting amicably to Benny, the vampire was, after all a scientific marvel. “Do vampires cease to age when turned or do they merely age slower?” Artemis said.

“As far as I can tell, we don’t age, can’t get sick. Hell, the only way for one of us to croak is if we get our selves decapitated or poisoned,” said Benny

“Do you actually have to feed on blood, can you eat normal food?”

“We could eat normal food but it just kind of goes straight through, if you know what I mean.” Benny said

Artemis winced “I do.”

Benny looked at him, amused “Too much explanation? If I remember correctly humans are quite squeamish about those things.”

“And you’re not?” Artemis asked

“Good point” Benny conceded

“How does one become a vampire anyway?” asked Artemis

Benny frowned, “Swallowing vampire blood will do it, injection of blood should work too. other than that, I’m not sure.” Benny’s face was contorted into what Artemis liked to call his ‘brooding face’ which cropped up every time Artemis asked him anything approaching personal. Artemis guessed that his transformation was a sore subject.

Artemis wasn’t an expert on social interactions, but he knew when a swift subject change was called for, “How close are we to the portal”

Benny thought for a moment, “We’re about an hour’s walk from the small lake so we should be about a quarter of the way there”

Artemis frowned, “How do you know?” he stopped for a second, “I don’t even know how you navigate this place; how do you know where the portal is?”

Benny shrugged, “A bit of trial and error.”

“Trial and error.” Artemis ground out “Please tell me we are relying on more than trial and error”

The corner of Benny’s lip quirked up, “The whole place is almost exactly the same apart from the water. there are fixed landmarks, streams, rivers, lakes. they are almost the only way to navigate.”

Artemis looked at Benny incredulously, panic rising “We haven’t seen any water... are... are we lost.”

Benny snorted, “Calm yourself chief. I keep forgetting how limited humans are. I can smell the sand, the rock, and the minerals in and around the water. Lakes and rivers have a much more distinct scent then the rest of this place”

Artemis’ relaxed, “I cannot believe I didn’t think of that sooner. It’s this place, its throwing me off.”

“Purgatory will do that to you.” Benny said, amused by the boy’s antics

Artemis glared, “Do you think this is funny?”

“I think it’s hilarious”

“I hate you.” Artemis grumbled. Artemis spoke in a character of Benny’s accent “I forgot how limited humans are. Do you know how ridiculous you sound sometimes?”

Once the conversation had juddered to a slow and comfortable stop, Artemis’ thoughts returned to their usual musings. What if his condition deteriorated further in this place? What if he took control again? Artemis knew the answer, he would surely perish here.

The only solution to this conundrum was (as always) to tell Benny. But he couldn’t do that, he had barely known Benny a week and the man himself had told Artemis not to trust anyone here.

And so, (as always) Artemis was left in a limbo of uncertainty stuck between trusting a man who had killed all his companions on a whim and well... the alternative, risking... it happening again with no one to ground him. The anxiety that arose as a result of this line of thinking caused him to tap his breast pocket five times and then his blade five times and then it was hard to stop, everything five times

He was so focused on these thoughts, that revolved in circles like a merry go round, that he didn’t notice the concerned looks Benny was throwing at him.

------------------------------------------

After arriving at the lake, Artemis realised that Benny was more on edge than usual and upon enquiry Benny had informed Artemis that, “The lake is easier to locate than the woods, it’s a landmark. If something finds us here, all of purgatory could descend on us.”

Artemis rolled his eyes, “I feel safer already.”

They walked along the edge of the lake while Benny looked for landmarks to point them in the right direction. The area around the water was rocky and devoid of trees.

Benny tensed then looked around.

An almighty flapping filled the sky followed by a roar. Artemis looked up just in time to see the two dragons clash. They screeched and grappled in the sky.

Artemis stopped. Was this just another delusion? He wasn’t sure.

The smaller of the two dragons swooped down to escape the larger one.

“Get down!”, Benny yelled and suddenly the air was filled with fire and the air was unbearably hot and dry.

Artemis felt a white-hot pain move up his leg. Fire, his leg must be on fire.

His leg was not on fire. However, the super-heated air was burning his leg.

He looked around him to see the lake and he jumped. He saw the water rise to meet and braced himself just as he plunged into the icy waters. The pain in his leg ceased. He froze for a moment, The shock taking him as he sank further down.

He snapped out of reverie and clawed at the water desperately. His lungs burnt as he tried to stop himself from taking a breath. He broke the surface of the water, gasping. He swam to the edge of the water and saw an outstretched hand. Artemis looked up to see Benny and grabbed his hand. Benny pulled him out of the water, and he lay face down on the ground, gasping.

“You alright cher?” Benny said, sounding entirely too calm, but concerned.

Artemis rolled himself onto his back with much effort and rasped, “What was that?”

“Dragons. They’ve moved on.” said Benny, who was kneeling down next to him and examining the burn.

Artemis groaned, “You know, once the shock wears off, burns really hurt.” he said, his voice becoming slightly high pitched.

He then promptly fainted.

---------------------------

Artemis woke to a crackling fire and a night-sky dotted with glittering stars. He was wrapped black coat a next to the fire. The coat, he recognised, was Benny’s and was so large it reached his ankles. his clothes were slung over large rocks and his shoes were warming by the fire and a quilt ferns were tucked under him, creating a barrier between the coat and the ground.

Benny was tucked next him, sheltering from the wind and allowing warmth to radiate through the coat. Benny was peering down at him, “How you doing, cher?”

“Leg hurts. Cold.” Artemis groaned.

“I figured” Benny said.

Artemis frowned, his mind foggy, “wh-uh. what happened to fire attracts monsters?”

Benny looked at him raising an eyebrow, “It does. But being soaked through on a cold day will make you catch your death.”

Artemis seemed confused but nodded dumbly. He started to tap his leg in fives and felt some of his anxiety leave him.

“For future reference, kid, jumping into a lake with serious burns is not a good idea, you could get an infection.”

“I’ll just keep that in mind for the next time I see a dragon then”, Artemis said, flatly.

“Seriously, that is the worst thing you could have done in that situation. I’m actually struggling to think of anything worse.”

Artemis raised his arms in surrender, “Fine, No jumping into lakes with burns, I’ve got it.”

“Anyways the likelihood is you probably won’t be in that situation again, dragons aren’t usually that dangerous, most of em’ are too busy to deal with the likes of us. They’re vegetarian, so the only time they fight is in self defence or to ward of a rival. Barely happens though. Mind you, they don’t need to try to be violent to be danger, like today,” said Benny.

Artemis frowned “Of course they were” Artemis did his best to mimic Benny’s accent, ‘trying to be violent’ they were attempting to kill each other.”

Benny snorted, “Cher that weren’t a fight, that was a mating ritual.”

“...” Artemis frowned, tilted his head then his face melded into a mask of baffled amusement “I suppose it is no more odd than some human mating rituals.” Artemis sat, groaning. He gazed at his leg which had been wrapped in cloth from Benny’s shirt.

Benny saw him looking, “It was the best I could do with what we have here. I had to wrap the leg up to stop it getting infected, but it isn’t that bad. If we’re lucky it’ll heal in two weeks.”

“Two weeks is too long.” He fell back, his head hitting the ground with a ‘thump’.

“We’ll manage. you’ll be standing in a day or two.” Benny said, his voice light.

“How are you so obnoxiously cheerful all the time?” Artemis asked

Benny snorted, “I’m not, you’re just a grumpy bastard.”

They fell silent for a long moment and all that was audible was the crackling of the fire, and the whisper of the wind through the trees.

“Can I ask you something?” asked Benny

“You may certainly ask.” said Artemis, although his voice sounded thin, and his eyes were distant.

“Why do you do that?” said Benny, curiously.

Artemis looked up, confused “What?”

“The tapping. At first, I thought it was just a habit, but you count them. It’s always in fives. I think you count other things too. sometimes I hear you counting before sleep.”

Artemis glanced at him tentatively as if weighing up options in his head, then after a long pause he spoke “I have a.... condition” At this moment he was very aware that the last time Benny had been on earth was fifty years ago.  Artemis couldn’t meet Benny’s eyes, his compulsion screaming at him to shut up. “Obsessive compulsive disorder. I constantly feel the urge to sort, organise, and count everything around me.”

Benny tilted his head, “Why?” 

Artemis took a breath. This was a risk; he was not yet sure if Benny could be trusted, but if his symptoms worsened it would be advantageous to have someone to ground him to reality. “I can’t... I don’t... I hate to feel out of control of my situation. Some of my life events were particularly... stressful so it was easier to believe that arbitrary things caused these traumatic events. That way, I could prevent things that were out of my control easily. It’s a self defence mechanism to prevent me from feeling so helpless.  My mind began to find patterns everywhere and I began to experience delusions and paranoia.”

“You say that like it’s over and you seem perfectly sane to me, what happened?”

The corner of Artemis’ mouth quirked upwards, “My friends noticed I had changed, they know something was wrong, they helped me get treatment for it. I saw a doctor and I underwent several months of therapy. The symptoms were completely gone till I arrived here. The stress must have triggered some of the symptoms.”

Benny nodded slowly. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Of what?”

“How do you know what’s real? How do you know if you actually have to be concerned or if you’re just being paranoid?” he seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, it looked painful, “How are you not paranoid by that?”

Artemis sighed, “You know I hadn’t considered that for the precious few hours I had been unconscious, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Benny said jovially.

Artemis considered the question, “Since I’ve been here, my symptoms have been getting worse. I don’t think I’m paranoid or deluded right now but... If I was, how would I know? It is quite disconcerting, I have to say.”

The silence followed was more uncomfortable than usual, in Artemis’ opinion at least.

“I could... let you know if... you are going a bit” Benny made a winding gesture beside his ear, “funny in the head.”

“Thank you... I think.” said Artemis, slowly slipping into sleep, comforted by the awkward declaration.

----------------------------------------

When he awoke the fire was smoking and Benny was sitting, sharping his knife made of wood and bone. Carcasses of fallen various assorted creatures were strewn in all directions around the camp.

Benny didn’t look up from his knife, “Morning kid. Don’t mind the bodies, just some trouble during the night.”

Artemis sat, wincing “Huh. You have been busy.” he frowned at the knife and asked something he had wondered for a while, “Did you make that weapon? Or did you bring it with you?”

Benny remained focused on sharpening his blade, “Had to make it out of dead werewolf bones. I didn’t have a weapon on me when I died.” Benny’s usual sunny disposition seemed to have evaporated like water on a hot day.

"How did you manage to wake up on the wrong side of the bed without a bed? Honestly, it’s baffling.” said Artemis groggily. Artemis’ voice took on a serious tone, “Are you okay?”

Benny sighed, “Yeah, I’m fine cher. I just... didn’t sleep. In this place you’re usually runnin’ or sleepin’. I haven’t had time to think for a while.”

“What about?” Artemis asked.

“My death. My life. A lot of things.” said Benny morosely.

“Tell me about your life, what did you do?” Artemis asked.

“It’s not a nice story cher.”

“Well, we have nothing else to do. I can’t stand on this leg, and you can’t carry me and protect yourself.” Artemis paused expectantly “So? You can’t sit there brooding forever. I will annoy you till you tell me something.”

“Alright, alright.” said Benny, defeated “I lived in Louisiana. I didn’t do much with my human life to be frank, I married when I was expected to, had kids when I was expected to, I earned enough money to support them. I barely knew my wife; I didn’t love her, it wasn’t her fault, she was just some girl. I did love my children though.” Benny smiled fondly, “Helene, Marie and Louis. Louis was the youngest child, it’s a shame- I would have wanted to see him grow up. Helene and Marie grew up to be intelligent young women, I was so proud of them.” his expression darkened “Anyway, I was turned when Louis was ten. I never saw them again.” he said sounding final.

Artemis was not one for platitudes but now he said the only thing that came to mind, “I’m sorry.”

Artemis knew when to drop a subject, but the thought still nagged at him, why didn’t Benny see his family again? Surely, he could have just visited them. Benny stood and Artemis felt the chill in his bones return.

“It is what it is. The fire’s gone out, I better collect some wood” said Benny, sniffing, his eyes suspiciously glassy.

Artemis allowed him the excuse; he could not begin to understand what it was to lose a child, but he thought that it would be something akin to never seeing his brothers, Miles and Becket again.

A trickle of icy fear spread out from his chest to his veins, raising hairs on the back of his arms when he realised that may well become a reality for him.

----------------------------------------------

Benny returned with a bundle of firewood under his arm and restored the fire to a roaring blaze.

handing him a bundle of clothes Benny said, “I dried your clothes last night, they should be fine now.”

Artemis tilted his head, “How?”

Benny went back to sharpening, “I heated a rock in the fire for a few hours then took the rock out with a stick so I could put the clothes on the rock.”

“Creative. Thank you” Artemis had been saying that a lot lately and didn’t want to make a habit of it. He would just have to make sure he didn’t have a reason to thank anyone. Oh well... there wasn’t much hope of that now.

Benny gestured in his general direction, “Will you need help with getting changed

Artemis felt a jolt of embarrassment, “No! I mean, no, I’ll be fine.”

Benny snorted, “kids never change. Anyway, I’ll be over there looking at something else, yell when you’re done.” and with that Benny walked off.

After ten minutes of awkward and slightly painful manoeuvring Artemis was dressed in his usual attire and looking extremely bedraggled due to the fact that this suit was dry clean only. “You can come back now” he called to Benny who came wandering out of the tree line.

“Here” Artemis offered holding up Benny’s coat to him.

“Cher I’ll be fine. You on the other hand, need to keep warm considering that stupid stunt you pulled yesterday.”

Artemis slipped the coat on, feeling slightly ridiculous in an Armani suit and a moth-eaten coat that was made for someone much bigger than he was, “Forgive me for not knowing what the protocol is for dragons.”

Mirth glinted in Benny’s eyes, “Well, neither do I, but it ain’t that.” Benny sat next him, “You’re taking all of this awfully well, have you run into this type of thing before?”

“I’d encountered fairies and time travel before, so this didn’t seem like a massive leap.” said Artemis.

“Fairies?” Benny asked, “As in tiny creatures glowing with little wings, those fairies?”

“Only some fairies have wings, and they aren’t as small as you would think.”

“You can’t be serious-” Benny’s head swivelled around to the trees and he held up a fist to signal to Artemis that he should stay put and quiet. Benny walked out into the forest warily.

They were (as Butler would say) sitting ducks here. It would be a long week.

#artemis fowl #supernatural #fowldom #fanfic #benny lafitte #holly short #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #af #fandom #domovoi butler #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers #foaly #meg supernatural #naomi spn #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #heaven and hell #alastair #angels and demons #demon #devil #julius root #juliet butler #archive of our own #spn #spnfandom