#Jo/Bela
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Title: The Voice in My Earpiece Thinks Youâre an Idiot
Author: @kerryweaverlesbianâ (Hedderstheowl)
Artist: @bakh-meliorism
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Jo/Bela
Warnings: Sick parent (offscreen); Allusions to (but not depictions of) Bela's backstory; Mild sexism; Implied fear of sexual assault; Past animal death (Hell Hound)Â
Tags: Flirting; Nicknames; Banter;Caper Fic; Heist;Canon Divergence; POV Bela Talbot; Introspection; Rough Sex; Original Character(s); Femslash; Swordfighting; First Meetings; Hopeful EndingÂ
Summary: Â Bela's after the score of a lifetime, but she's got one problem; it's a two person job. Good thing she met Jo, who wants it too. Too bad Jo brings some problems of her own: first, she's got a secret, and a big one. Second, she's a total amateur. And third, Bela might just be falling a little bit in love with her. A Jo/Bela heist fic!
Link To Fic | Link To Art
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Word Count: 1,305, Jo/Bela, Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, One Night Stands, First Meetings, Casual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Biting, Marking, Wall Sex, Frottage, The Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2023
Summary:
Sometime after high school spits her out, she goes off on her own for about a year, partly running away from the life, partly getting some air from the ideas her mother has about Jo herself and the life.
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#dean winchester#sam winchester#bela talbot#jack kline#jo harvelle#gencest#samdean#sam/dean#wincest#supernatural#spn#spn text post#text post#bela spn#jack supernatural
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No Rowena because she was still alive at that point
PS I'd hope this doesn't come up but please don't answer with a man who's your babygirl. This is about women. Also be civil in the tags lol.
#spn polls#jo harvelle#ellen harvelle#bela talbot#charlie bradbury#jess supernatural#did jess have a surname??#ruby supernatural#anna supernatural#emma supernatural#cawis creates
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Some spn girlies!
#the writers donât like em but I do!!#I think this rewatch has been so fun because the last time I watched it I was in 8th grade and was doopid#like so much analysis and critique to do now#anyways was anyone else obsessed with Bela and had no idea why?? (gay)#art#fanart#digital art#fan art#supernatural#supernatural fanart#spn#spn fanart#Meg masters#ruby spn#anna milton#jo harvelle#bela talbot
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I genuinely don't believe that a single Supernatural character is straight. I just know, in my heart of hearts, that every last one of them is queer as fuck.
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#jack kline#rowena macleod#jody mills#bobby singer#rufus turner#donna hanscum#mary winchester#john winchester#charlie bradbury#claire novak#ellen harvelle#jo harvelle#bela talbot#lisa braeden#eileen leahy#meg supernatural#ruby supernatural#crowley supernatural
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@youre-only-gay-once 3000 Follower Celebration - Â August 3:Â Women in Spn // Purple and/or Gold
#supernatural#spn#supernaturaledit#spnedit#mary winchester#mary campbell#rowena macleod#rowena#jo harvelle#eileen leahy#bela talbot#meg#meg supernatural#meg spn#billie#billie spn#billie supernatural#Charlie Bradbury#ruby#ruby spn#Ruby supernatural#amara#amara supernatural#amara spn#yogo3000#*#i don't wanna talk about this coloring
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BelaJo // "Getaway Driver" - Miranda Lambert
#spn#spnedit#sapphicnatural#belajo#bela talbot#jo harvelle#myspnedits#discarding canon#bela đ#these two women never interacted onscreen but with the power of knockoff photoshop they can now <3
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#jo harvelle#jo my prettiest girl#anna milton#spn#bela talbot#ellen harvelle#victor henriksen#madison spn#spn text post#supernatural#lilith spn
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Part 1
#polls#spn#supernatural#ruby spn#meg masters#bela talbot#lucifer spn#garth#benny lafitte#mary winchester#jo harvelle#bobby singer#rufus turner#chuck shurley
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Okay, while, again, probably still gonna be a fun season, s3 def looks like it was hit hard with the writer's strike. Some greatest worst hits of s3:
Ruby (ugh)
Bela (seriously??)
Too many joke episodes (though I enjoy them it throws the whole tone off the original concept)
"oh no, Sammy is turning evil maybe????" SO fed up with this.
Dean's general refusal to take Sam's fear of him dying seriously. Like, great, you're dying, so "sad", but you did that to yourself and it sure as hell wasn't anything Sam wanted. S2 Dean had more respect for Sam then this bs. (Granted not by much, but I at least understood it)
I love how in this season Dean is more interested in just offing himself, and doesn't care that actually Sam wouldn't be any safer without him, just wants the responsibility off his fucking hands. S2 Dean would never.
In general there's a problem with the writing, where as I was having sympathy for Dean previously, he's honestly just pissed me off for the whole season so far. And while bringing back Sam was always a selfish act, it's in this type of writing where it feels he doesn't even see Sam as anything other than a responsibility (which is not true but I wonder what some of the writers are thinking)
What I do like so far:
The joke episodes (lmao I am what I am)
More Bobby. Always loved him, sill pissed they kill him off later (and in such a fucked up season for Sam too)
More Gabriel this season - though I haven't gotten to the episode.
There are some really memorable episodes here. I remember watching them when they aired. Possibly memorable because they were mostly humorous and simpler for a kid tho. But some I just find fun: Storybook episode, Christmas episode, Timeloop episode.
Mixed feelings about:
Lisa and Ben. I like how Dean had a chance for a wife and kid. I don't like the set up cause it doesn't really feel like that tight of a bond. Dean had much more chemistry and connection with Cassie, if he could get his shit together. So it really felt hamfisted, but I like that he had an option for a family. Ben was hella cute tho, love that he was basically a little Dean.
#supernatural#spn#sam winchester#dean winchester#usually bad writing gets me aggravated đ€Ł#that's my bad writing radar#I miss the damn ghosts - demons are so boring#and they're all annoying#idk it's just weird - i like that I was right tho#means little me knew what was up#hope the rest of s3 is better than the first few episodes - but Im not holding my breath#especially with bela and ruby there#thank god ellen and jo werent there - they're too good for this script#The Hardy Boys But With Ghosts
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Spotless: Pomposo
Chapter Fourteen
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)
Word Count: 4559
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd
Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.
Series Masterlist
Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldnât even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.
They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, heâd never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.
Maybe heâd try and leave him another message, it had been months.
Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadnât packed a bathing suit, but a gymâs a gym even if itâs just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasnât worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.
After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.
Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasnât the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.
Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dadâs place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Samâs fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.
âYou talk to Bela?â Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered.Â
âUh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?â Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.
âWasnât sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,â Sam shrugged. âMadison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.â
Dean chuckled. âI donât want to know what youâre giving her, alright?â
Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. âWonât people be asking about what you got her?â
Dean hadnât really thought about it. âI guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks itâs necessary we post about it. I donât know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Yearâs at Elizabethâs, you know?â
Sam leveled Dean with a glare. âYou know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.â
Dean set down his beer. âWell itâs a good thing sheâs halfway across the world then.â
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
âMom loved that show,â Sam said thoughtfully.
He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why heâd recognized Bela the first time theyâd met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched âRed Sky in the Morningâ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.
âI canât believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,â Dean said playfully.
âYeah, but it was her escape,â Sam added gently.
Dean took a long pull off his beer. âI guess so.â
When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kateâs well-meaning but invasive nature.
But thatâs family for you, nothing more important than that.
Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didnât stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.
He closed his eyes and answered. âMorning, beautiful.â
âDean Winchester?â a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.
âEllen?â
âYeah, listenâ thereâs been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but Iâm heading back there now.â
Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. âEllen? What are they saying?â
âSheâs in the ICU. Iâ we need you there.â
 Terror flooded Deanâs system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldnât have been out so late if it wasnât to see him. He swallowed. âUh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.â
âIâll pick you up. Iâve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.â
âRight, okay, Iâm at Dad and Kateâsâ do youââ
âIâll be there soon.â
âEllen? Be careful.â
âDonât you start young man.â
âYes maâam.âÂ
Ellen hung up.
Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didnât have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldnât look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.
âDean? Can I put on cartoons?â
He didnât jump, Dean didnât get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.
âKnock yourself out,â Dean said.
âWhere are you going?â Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.
âUh, friend of mine had an accident, so Iâm heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I donât know when Iâll be back.â
âYou can tell me yourself,â Johnâs voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.
âDadâ,â Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldnât bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. âItâs Jo. Ellenâs gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, Iââ
Johnâs entire stance changed. âGo. Call when you know something. Iâll send Sammy when heâs up, heâll know what to do.â
They both knew Sam couldnât stop whatever was happening, but heâd keep Dean from causing a scene.
A car honked in the driveway.
âI gotta go. Thanks,â Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.
Dean wouldnât let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.
âListen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,â Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.
âHi, Iâm Ellen Harvelle, Iâm here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.â
Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. âOf course, right this way.â
She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room.Â
Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side windowâ or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldnât tell she was so misshapen.
âOh, Jo,â Deanâs voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.
 He didnât realize he had let go of Ellenâs hand until he was clenching the rail along Joâs bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Joâs beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.
âWhat happened?â Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Joâs heart rate, but he wasnât sure if the readings were good or bad.
âSomeone was driving on the wrong side of the roadâ couldnât see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didnât stop. They took her to surgeryâ her right knee was shattered.â
âJo took the brunt of it,â Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.
Ellen sniffed.
âThey are watching for internal bleeding before theyâll operate. Her brainâ," Ellen couldnât finish.
âHey,â Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. âTheyâre doing everything they can.â
âItâs not enough,â Ellen argued.
âI know,â Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.
Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Joâs room.
He checked his watch, it was just after ten oâclock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadnât slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if sheâd even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didnât make him certain her driver was much better off.
He was gonna be sick again.
He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.
Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her beforeâŠ
She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.
And it was all his fault.
He stared at the floor until he couldnât anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldnât stop the tears and he wouldnât go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldnât cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Joâs room.
Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Joâs good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellenâs shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellenâs brief nap and the three oâclock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasnât allowed on the ward.
The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.
Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.
Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.
âGet over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didnât I?â Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. âGood to see you, man.â
âYou too,â Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.
Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didnât say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.
âSammy,â John said, holding out his arms.
âHey Dad,â Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought heâd see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Samâs superpower.
âYou boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know youâve been on the road, wasnât sure when youâd get in,â Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.
âDonât worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,â Dean assured her. âI like your hair.â
That startled her. âOh! Thank you, yeah I just figured Iâd do something different for winter, you know.â
âDonât she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,â John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.
âGross,â Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.
âBeer?â John offered and Dean gladly accepted.
Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Millsâ Crossing, there wasnât much more small talk to be had.Â
Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Deanâs hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Samâs forearms âhealthyâ.Â
What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didnât know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.
The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Samâs first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was Johnâs house after all, but the old manâs hands werenât what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.
They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Travelerâs songs that didnât rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.
They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.
Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldnât justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day.Â
Kate wiped the floor with them all.
They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didnât save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.
âYou kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?â John asked after Dean cursed at Adamâs obnoxious ringtone.
âDo a lot more with it than that,â Dean muttered before he could stop himself.
âDean Winchester,â John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.
âOh, come on, kids in college, heâs heard worse,â Dean griped, going back to his coffee.
It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lionâs share of gifts. Sam and Dean didnât need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didnât even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, Johnâs plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.
Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.
Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasnât exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldnât stop himself once he started snarking.
Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet.Â
âOur new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,â Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.
âSo you upgraded from Cas officially now?â John asked suspiciously.
âDad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,â Sam cut in. John already knew this.
âI know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.â
Dean laughed darkly. âNothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.â
âAnd why did he leave exactly?â John goaded Dean.
Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.
âLetâs call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,â Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.
âYeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,â John muttered.
âDad!â Sam admonished.
âThatâs fucking rich! Talking about her when sheâs not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.â
John stepped into Deanâs space, but spoke to Sam. âSam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.â
Sam grunted in confirmation.
âWatch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or Iâll show you a Winchester temper,â John said lowly. âYou understand?â
Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. âWho exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, Iâll talk to you how you deserve it. Iâm out of here.â
Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.
The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.
Ellenâs entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasnât how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.
He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.
They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised heâd do while he was home, now that heâd visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.
They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldnât ever accept.Â
Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.
âI guess we better get going,â he said, asking Sam more than anything.
Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Deanâs stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Deanâd be damned if heâd visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.
You looked like you were going to be ill.
âMaybe we should ask her if she wants to go,â he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.
You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. âIf itâs okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know itâs in the other direction.â
Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you werenât really in it. He probably shouldnât have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway.Â
They let you out at your parentsâ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.
What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.
âSo, Iâve been better. Not like Iâm bad now, but Iâve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But weâre still doing it.Â
Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I havenât let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe Iâm starting to again.
And I just need you to know that Iâm gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because theyâre my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, weâre okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. IÂ hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.â
Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Joâs name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, âyou good?â
âYeah, man. Letâs get back before I cause more of a sensation,â Dean said, not meeting Samâs eyes.
âOkay,â was all Sam said.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
@globetrotter28
@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
Chapter 15: Rubato
#spotless series#dean angst#dean/reader#dean/jo#dean/bela#slow burn#character death#grief#guilt#dean winchester fanfiction#rockstar au#fake dating
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#early seasons bias is showing im not sorry#spn#supernatural#polls#spn polls#bela talbot#anna spn#ruby spn#uriel spn#ellen harvelle#jo harvelle#raphael spn#bobby singer#victor henriksen#ash spn
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Thinking about young Charlie and young Bela meeting in juvie or some sort of delinquent youth rehabilitation programme that they chose instead of juvie. Maybe in the same foster home but I prefer people's actions to guide them to meeting people rather than happenstance. They're around the same age, this could work. 16 year old "I'm going to hack the pentagon but I can't lie in person to save my life" Charlie and 17 year old "I'm the most charming person in the room but I have no friends" Bela working together to...something. Right some sort of wrong against each of them. Maybe Charlie needs some paperwork she can't access without Bela's help to send money across for her mom's medical expenses (this would be 2001, hacking can only get you so far) and maybe Bela wants a forged american citizen ID.
2 girls who nobody cares about, with no contacts, no safety net and everything to lose choosing to help each other because no one else will. With an air of bittersweetness over the whole thing because we know that they lose contact.
(Until of course the epilogue where Jo brings her new femme fatale girlfriend to the Harvelle-Winchester Friends and Family Christmas and Charlie and Bela point at each other like đ€Żđ€©đ„č)
#charlie bradbury#bela talbot#to be clear to me this is an intense teenage romance/friendship with bi/lesbian awakening on bela's end (charlie knows herself lol)#and they become friends in the epilogue. OR a throuple thing with jo. but I really cannot picture jo and charlie hanging out#like what would that look like.#hm. seperate post.#you can take this as a prequel to the voice in my earpiece thinks youre an idiot i am genuinely considering writing it as one#it was so fun writing a heist it'd have fun complications from being in the 2000s without the technology. charlie and bela paging each othe#would be really funny#charlie reading Fahrenheit 451 at the time...cute....#cawis creates
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I don't ship dean with any women because every single one deserves better.
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NOW COMPLETE
series on ao3
dirty talk - destiel
pegging - samjess
mutual masturbation - saileen
cockwarming - destiel
hate sex - belajo
double penetration - meg/dean/cas
one night stand - destiel
against the wall - samwena
free space - deancassie
#spn kink bingo 2024#spnkinkbingo#my writing#my fic#spn#destiel#samjess#saileen#nsft#belajo#bela x jo#meg/dean/cas#meanstiel#fic archive#samwena#deancassie
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