#and then you jump out and knock their heads together like the two stooges ; Moon Knight

[marlenexalraune]

Tag Dump!

[butgilinsky]

blueberry pancakes // rc

part four | series masterlist 

warning; language, angst, fluff

summary; y/n goes to the wreck to meet sarah and kie, before her day takes a drastic turn with one simple question

word count; 3.1k

after continuous days of kie and sarah begging her, y/n finally agreed to meet them at the wreck. she had been slightly avoiding the boys for the past few days, knowing that her attendance at a kook party was now public knowledge to them and they surely disapproved. 

she didn’t want to go through the lecture every time she hung out with the pogues. they were her best friends, but they weren’t hearing her out. she’d been left in the dark for the past few months anyways. with kie and jj, and john b and sarah, while pope focused heavily on his scholarship stuff and still got time with john b and jj alone at times. 

but she went to the wreck anyways, walking into the restaurant with a light smile on her face despite the hesitation coursing through her. she saw sarah and kie sitting in the far corner of the restaurant, and laughed when kie started waving her arms in the air. 

she walked over to them and gave both of them hugs before siding in beside kie and across from sarah. they caught up quickly, listening to sarah talk about the progression in her relationship along with how things at home were slightly rocky. y/n talked about babysitting and how both of the girls were doing, while kie rattled off different songs she’d been playing around with lately. 

y/n almost thought she’d make it out alive until the boys sauntered into the wreck, bright smiles on their faces. y/n rolled her eyes at kie’s insistent promises that she didn’t invite them, but told her it was fine. she couldn’t hide forever, despite the fact that she was still mad about sarah’s spying just a week prior. 

the boys slid in beside them, and y/n found herself focusing on the setting sun in order to relieve herself of some of the anxiety pumping through her. 

she hummed when her name was called, looking across the table towards jj who had a smirk plastered on his face. 

“how’s kook life?” y/n rolled her eyes at the question, trying to fight off the familiar feeling in her chest. 

“i don’t know, jj, ask a kook.” he scoffed in return, leaning back in his seat as he rolled his eyes. 

“i thought i did.” y/n let out a slightly bitter laugh before john b tried to cut the conversation short. 

“knock it off, jj.” the blond boy rolled his eyes again, letting out a heavy sigh at his friend’s attitude. 

“what, jb? we’ve all noticed her shift in behavior. she’s gone full kook now, and can’t even spend time with us anymore. she goes to kook parties, and hangs out with the three stooges every chance she gets! she might as well wear vineyard vines and start drinking mimosas at brunch.” y/n was staring at the table, trying to fight off the mix of emotions she was feeling. 

“y/n, why are you hanging out with them so much?” her eyes snapped up to meet sarah’s, narrowing ever so slightly before she started talking. 

“i don’t spend time with you guys as much because this is always what it turns into. you can’t handle the idea that any of us have friends outside of this group. i love you guys but whether you notice it or not, things aren’t the same as they used to be.” they all stared at her with confused expressions, but she just laughed. 

“see, you don’t even notice because you’re all in your own little bubble, but i’m always the one on the outskirts of it all. i’m the one that doesn’t quite fit into the mix anymore and-”

“so you go full kook on us?” jj spat bitterly, eyes narrowed as he tried to put the pieces together. there was no question that jj had the biggest vendetta against the kooks. his hatred ran the furthest, and y/n was one of his best friends, so it was inevitable that he’s be mad about it all. 

it didn’t feel worth it to y/n to tell jj why she started hanging out with rafe. it was the truth, that she’d felt disconnected from her friends for a while at this point, but it didn’t feel worth it to offer up the rest of her explanation. 

jj didn’t need to know that y/n had feelings for him. feelings that were now less than a thought in her mind, due to a certain kook. she didn’t need to tell the blond boy with a underlying kleptomaniac tendencies that he’d completely stole her heart, only to throw it in the ocean and give his own away to someone else. 

she didn’t want to tell jj about her feelings, even if she had forgotten about them lately, because she knew it wouldn’t end in a happy understanding amongst the friends sat around the table. she’d only have to explain herself five times over, and she didn’t want to do that right now, while a bright red flame burned inside of her. 

“hanging out with kooks doesn’t mean i went full kook, jj. i hang out with them because they make me feel like i’m important, not just another body on a boat or another person to share beer with.” jj was the only one still mad at this point, the other four trying to recount how different she had been, and for a while. 

“y/n, i’m sorry, we didn’t-”

“you didn’t notice? i know. you guys only ever notice each other.” she muttered softly before standing up, her chair scraping across the floor of the restaurant. “i knew i shouldn’t have come here. not a day goes by where one of you doesn’t make me feel like shit for enjoying myself.”

“y/n, please-”

“forget it, okay? if me hanging out with other people pisses you off so bad then stop calling me. i’ve hung out with all of you for years, and i’ve felt more myself in the past week than i have in months.” she grabbed her phone and keys off of the table, trying to round the table but kie grabbed her wrist. 

“y/n.” the girl looked down at her, eyes full of tears as she waited for kie to say something else, but it never came. 

so she ripped her wrist out of kie’s hand and took a few steps towards the door before spinning around one more time, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at her friends that stared at her with solemn expressions. 

“and the next time i tell you where i’m going, don’t send someone to spy on me. it’s not hard for me to guess why sarah’s conveniently at a kook party the same night as me.” she turned once more and walked out of the restaurant, shoving the door harshly on her way out. the table stayed silent for a minute, before jj scoffed again. 

“what’s her problem?” john b sent him a harsh glare, fighting back the urge to punch the table or his best friend. 

“you! you’re her problem, jj! she only started hanging out with rafe because she fell for your sorry ass and you were too dumb to notice.” jj’s eyes blew wide at the confession, his heart dropping into his stomach at the information. 

“she what?” everyone at the table was staring at john b now, confused about how he knew something that none of them knew about. 

“yeah, idiot. she had feelings for you but all you ever did was talk about kiara all the fucking time, so she got sick of it. she reached her breaking point and i guess rafe gave her the opportunity to forget about it. so that’s why she hangs out with kooks, jj. she was trying to forget about you and started enjoying herself instead. so let her have fun for once.” 

the table fell silent again, kie drinking in the information as much as jj was. pope had been silent the whole time, not knowing which side he was on in this situation. he hated the kooks almost as much as jj, but he did notice y/n had been off for a while now, and if she found a way to be happy, why should they stop her?

“sarah, the other night...” kie tried to ask about y/n’s night at kelce’s house, but she was still shock ridden by john b’s confession.

“she looked the happiest i’ve probably ever seen her. rafe too, if i’m honest. rafe hasn’t smiled like that in years.” the table had mixed reactions to this, john b smiling softly since he knew y/n had been happy, but he couldn’t help the distaste he had for rafe. 

y/n had been driving for some time now, driving long enough for the sun to fall and the moon to shine. she wasn’t sure where to go until the sun set and it seemed so obvious to her. 

so she found herself at the diner, phone forgot in the car and hands gripping a cup of hot coffee. her hair was up, though multiple strands had fallen in the time she’d been there. she had been consumed in her thoughts for hours at this point, eyes bloodshot from tears and throat hoarse from yelling and sobbing. 

she had let everything sink in in the time she’d spent alone. she realized how long it had actually been since she’d been happy around all of the pogues. it’d seemed like forever since jj had been pining after kie, and sarah had joined the group, making john b’s head consistently reside up in the clouds. 

she couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she had to find comfort in pope, despite the two of them never being the closest. she loved pope, but she had been so used to having jj or john b to lean on, that both of them being swooped up into relationships left her at a loss. 

she didn’t know who she had anymore, and that was the hardest pill to swallow. she knew things would change when high school ended, most of them moving away to different colleges, but she didn’t expect it to happen while they were still in high school. 

she had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the truck pull up to the diner, nor the boy jumping out and walking towards the door. he would’ve sighed out in relief, but he wasn’t surprised to find her here. in fact, it was the first place he looked after he got the phone call. 

he slid into the seat across from her before she even noticed he was here. her head snapped up, the momentary fear leaving at the sight of him. though, he had a different reaction when she looked at him. 

his face fell, his heart slightly cracking. he could tell she had been crying, anybody with a set of eyes would’ve been able to tell. her lips were slightly chapped, and her fingers were slightly shaking, undoubtedly cold from the chill in the diner. 

her eyes were so red he had half a thought that she was high. they were glassy, yet dull and emotionless. his shoulders slumped at the sight, and he reached for her hand but flinched when he felt how cold they were. 

“jesus, y/n.” he mumbled softly before sliding out of the booth. “stay here.” he walked out of the diner, her eyes following him as he ran back to the truck, reaching into the backseat and pulling out a hoodie he had thrown back there months ago. 

he jogged back inside and slid back into his seat before holding the jacket out to her, silently telling her to take it. she did, and slid it on shortly after. it was a comfortable size, warmth engulfing her on impact. 

“thanks.” she said softly and rafe sent her a small smile. “how’d you even know i was here?” 

“sarah called me, asked if i’d seen you because you weren’t answering your phone and i guess they stopped by your house. i tried to call, just to see if you were ignoring them or everyone, and then i came here.” he shrugged, not thinking it was that big of a deal. 

but to her it was. the fact that he cared enough to look, on top of the fact that he knew exactly where she’d be, warmed her heart. it skipped a beat as she watched him smile at her, finding her intoxicating even in a time like this. 

“what happened?” she shrugged softly, eyes falling back to her coffee as she pulled the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands. 

“just the usual kook lecture. ‘why them’, ‘how’s kook life’, ‘you don’t hang out with us anymore’. you know, the usual stuff.” she shrugged again, but rafe was able to pick up on how much she actually did care and how much it bothered her that her friends were acting like this. 

she hated fighting with the pogues. it didn’t happen that often, but they couldn’t stop themselves when they felt like they were losing their best friend to the people they hated most. 

but they didn’t realize that she had felt that way for months at this point. she felt like they were all falling into new routines that didn’t include her, and while that would’ve been fine if she had school to focus on, or any other friends to distract herself with, the only thing she had were the two girls she babysat. it wasn’t easy to distract herself. 

until she started hanging out with rafe. 

spending time with rafe made her feel important. it made her feel like someone was actually thinking of her, wondering how she truly was doing or if she was having a good time in any given situation. 

rafe made her feel like someone took the time out of their day to check in on her, even if it was just a simple text, or a few hours at some old diner. rafe cameron made her feel important to someone, and that meant everything to her. 

“well, what if your favorite kook buys you a stack of blueberry pancakes and we go sing way too loud to songs we don’t know the words to? i’ll even let you eat the pancakes in the car.” she laughed gently as rafe leaned over the table, hands folded together and eyebrows in the air to further his suggestion. 

she leaned over the table to meet him halfway and pressed her lips to his softly, hearing him hum out in satisfaction. she started to pull away but was stopped when a hand wrapped around the back of her head and held her in place. 

rafe finally let them separate after another minute and smiled widely at her before waving over a waiter and asking for those pancakes. 

and they did sing along to songs way too loud in his car. she took bites of her pancakes every so often, feeding bites to rafe in between her own. she would laugh when he sang with his mouth full, doing just about anything he could to make sure that any tears slipping out of her eyes were from laughing too hard. 

he let her roll the windows down, hanging her head and arms out of the side until they turned around corners lined by cliffs. he’d laugh and put a hand on the waistband of her shorts, tugging her gently back inside of the car to assure she didn’t hit anything while hanging halfway out of his car. 

she’d lean over the center console, kissing his cheek and whispering things into his ear ever so often. she’d lean her head on his shoulder and sing softly to songs that hit a little deeper, pouring her heart into words that she felt like she had ghost written. 

there was a moment where her back pressed against the door, her seat belt stripped off despite rafe’s protests. her legs stretched out and feet planted in his lap. he had on hand on her ankle, gripping it softly and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. 

he glanced at her, watching her smile wildly at him. she took a mental snapshot of the moment, rafe cameron smiling at her like she hung the moon. it seemed so intimate and almost domestic, the way they stole glances and shared affirmations. if there was a moment in her life that she would pause everything else and live in it forever, it was this moment right here. 

y/n’s face and stomach hurt by the end of the night, but she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her time. it still shocked her every once in a while that rafe cameron brought such a bright smile to her face, but she was starting to look forward to those smiles and the car rides that caused them. 

it was late, but neither of them had intentions of going home anytime soon. there was nothing for them there, and both of them swore that they would’ve stayed in that car for the rest of their lives if it was an acceptable way of living.

“i really like you, y/n. and it kind of freaks me out, but i can’t help it.” rafe glanced over to her periodically, keeping most of his attention on the dark roads ahead of him. 

“i really like you too.” she said softly, looking over at the boy that was now smiling widely. “despite you being a kook.” she scrunched her nose up and watched rafe laugh gently. 

“a pogue and a kook falling for each other. who would’ve thought?” y/n scoffed at the question, thinking of more than one instance where that’s been the case. 

“you mean a who would’ve thought rafe cameron would fall for a pogue?” rafe laughed again, which brought an inevitable smile to the girl’s face. 

“i’d fall for you in ten different lifetimes, even if you were a pogue in every single one of them.” her smile grew wider, and she let out a sigh. 

“i’d kiss the shit out of you if you weren’t driving right now.” rafe quickly pulled off to the side of the road at that, making y/n laugh as he pulled her into his lap. 

“well, would you look at that.” rafes words made her lightly roll her eyes, a bright smile spreading across her lips. she clicked her tongue softly but gripped either side of his face and sighed happily as she drank in the sight of him, baseball hat sitting backwards on his head while a bright smile graced his lips. 

“just kiss me, cameron.” and that’s exactly what he did. 

--

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[elizabeth-234]

The Hourglass

Previous Chapter Sixteen: Confessions 

Chapter Seventeen: Kaleidoscope of Memories 

2017, Five weeks into rescue.

He fell backward. Wind whipped across his back before he crashed into something hard. The impact knocked the breath out of him leaving him gasping. Black spots spotted his vision but his hearing was clear. The ice was cracking underneath him. At first it was small fissures in the frozen water, but they joined with other cracks and fractured out to create bigger, more damaging weaknesses.

It was without a sound that the ice gave way and water enveloped his body. The dark liquid bashed the ice against each other. Small pieces floated in the hole where Peter was. His clothes were laden with the cold water. His limbs shocked into immobility at the vast temperature decrease. He sank from the weight. Water pooled over his face and nostrils unheeding of his attempts to climb onto the ice. The water was merciless in its pursuit to claim Peter.

He sank until he was emerged under the ice, his arms and legs floating, clothes baggy around his frame. Peter looked up from below at the ice he had, what felt like seconds ago, fell onto. Bubbles escaped through the hole he created and he wondered if his younger self would have appreciated it or if he would have been disappointed the bubbles disappeared into the air. It didn’t matter now. Red tendrils of blood floated around him infusing into the water. At least there would be something left of him here after he was gone.

His back settled against the sand and one last torrent of bubbles left his mouth as his lungs contracted in protest. A slow tide moved him back and forth along the bottom of the lake. For a moment, he was a child again being rocked be a soothing rhythm in a crib. Sand moved underneath him stirring with his movements. His limbs were too heavy to move. Peter closed his eyes instead of watching the ice above.

The particles of sand swirled around him, mingling with the blood in the water before settling on his person. Some rested on his hands palms open in the water and others settled lightly on his closed eyelids. Peter was finally in no pain. He couldn’t remember how he ended up here or why he had feared the water so much before. It almost was like being hugged by May. He tried to smile at the thought, but then he thought of Rhodey and Tony. Their concern and selflessness in the face of danger. He tried to open his eyes for them, to fight one more time but he was powerless against the slowing tide of this strange, underwater world.

The last sand fell at a leisured pace through the water coming to land on Peter’s forehead. Time slowed in this underwater world filled with silence until, when all was quiet, it stopped.

-

2017, Four weeks into rescue.

The day was brisk. Cold, crisp air soaked into their lungs with every step they took. Peter, Rhodey, and Tony made their third circle around the lake. From their vantage point on the path they could see the snow racing against the wind on top of the ice. Peter shivered and broke his stare. He rubbed his hands together trying to get rid of the gritty texture rubbing against his skin but when that didn’t work he began to run laps around his two companions.

“You’re a strange kid, you know that?”

Tony smiled at him as he passed them in the front. It wasn’t exactly a solution. The grit remained under his gloves, against his legs no matter how much he ran. He tried not to glance back at the lake but a foreign compulsion forced him to with every circle.

“Must be nice to have all that stamina.” Rhodey commented.

“I have to expend this energy now or I won’t be able to sleep later.” Peter whined between jumping jacks. Why couldn’t he enjoy the day? He’d forgone eating breakfast even with a rumbling stomach. But the thought of eating anything, even Rhodey’s mouthwatering waffles, made him flinch.

“We could always have Rhodey read you a lullaby, He does voices and everything.”

Rhodey smacked Tony on the shoulder. Peter smiled despite the sour taste in the back of his mouth. His eyes wandered behind them to the lake almost iced over. He continued to stare until Tony put an arm around his shoulder. Did he know Peter was about to walk toward the water? Did he see the shadows in Peter’s eyes?

-

1992, two months in time.

“You didn’t.”


Peter’s spoon hovered in midair, stopped from making its trajectory into his mouth before it dropped, splashing his fruit loops onto the table and himself. A red fruit loop hit his shirt and rolled down onto the floor but Peter wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were on Tony who had just come from his room.

“Tony. Take it back. Go wash it out.”

“You don’t like it?” Tony took a pan drying from the dry rack and held it up to pretend to look at his reflection. The blond hair, oversized and disproportional to his real head of hair, looked like a funhouse reflection in the pan’s diameter.

“Good Mor…. Holy shit. I thought you were joking, Tones. Don’t change anything. Let me get my camera. Wait there.”

Rhodey ran back to his room. They could hear him swearing and rummaging around in his room for the camera. Peter burst out laughing at the one patch of brown hair surrounded by a sea of bleached blond.

“I will never let you live this down, Tony.”



Peter’s statement was punctuated by the sound of Rhodey’s camera going off.

-

2017, two days into kidnapping.

Peter paced back and forth in front of the curtained balcony. The two men, his supposed kidnappers, were sitting on the couch staring at him. But none of it made sense. They’d given him a room with clothes in the drawers. There was food stacked high on the coffee tables. The one named James Rhodes had insisted on filling a plate for Peter when he had said he wasn’t hungry.

They were nice, too nice. Peter hesitated at his outstretched hand. There were all kinds of junk food piled onto the plate. Rhodes stared back at him and pushed the plate further into his hand.

“Please, sit down.” Rhodes said gesturing to the vacant chair next to the couch they occupied. “And eat up. I’m sure they didn’t feed you well in that place.”

He was helpless under the warm gaze of Rhodes. Soon he was tucked away in the chair, rice crispy in hand with a blanket wrapped around him. This was the strangest kidnapping he’d ever heard of.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes.” He said quietly.

Tony snorted and Peter glared at him from under his bangs. The man was obnoxious.

“Did you hear that Mr. Rhodes? Our guest is so polite.”

The tips of his ears heated and he clenched the edges of the plate.

“What should I call him then?”

“How about Sir Rhodey of the Rhodes? Or maybe James Pop and the Iron Stooges? Or …”

“Tony, shut up.” Rhodey gave the man a pointed look to which he fell silent with a small smirk in Peter’s direction.

“Look Peter. We understand this isn’t the best of circumstances and all. You can call me James, if you want. Most people including stupid over here call me Rhodey.” Peter nodded. He could do that. Out of everything they’d asked of him this was the most reasonable. Peter knew what it was like not to have a name, not to be the person who had his name. In that place he wasn’t the Peter from his life before. He hated Peter and all his weaknesses and was glad he wasn’t anybody in that small cell.

He wondered if he could ever find someone he wanted to be again? A tiny voice in the back of his whispered this apartment, the blue room, might be such a place to find himself again.

-

1992, four months in time.

Peter woke up to silence. Darkness swallowed him and if not for the bed underneath him, Peter would have floated away into it. His chest heaved, breath stalled in his lungs despite the urgent need to exhale. The curtains swayed lightly from the vent blowing hot air into his room and a silver of the moon showed every time it moved forward. He swung his whole body away and toward the door when he caught sight of the lake.

He rubbed his hand on his forehead. Was it all a dream?

No. They were memories. He remembered going to sleep and then falling. Falling into darkness only to be dropped somewhere, everywhere. He lived through the memories, both past and present, at the same time but apart. How was that possible? When Rhodey offered him a plate of food when he was just in their care, he was also laughing with them at Tony’s new hair color. All the while some version of himself, maybe his true self, was at the bottom of the lake drifting against the sand.

He rubbed his hands together and felt the small particles of sand there. He knew if he turned on the lights he wouldn’t see anything. Peter laid back down and stared at the ceiling. His hands clenched together under the covers.

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter Eighteen: Going Back

[sassmastercas]

The British Men of Letters Gala

Title: The British Men of Letters Gala

Word Count: A tad over 2500

Pairings: Some Ketch x Reader (but not really), Dean x Reader 

Summary: After completely eradicating all vampires from North America with help from the Hunters, the BMoL decide to celebrate the only way they know how; by throwing an extravagant party.

Warnings: bra chupa chupa (jk) 

Masterlist

All and any feedback is much appreciated <3 

You slid your foot into the black 4 inch stilettos you hadn’t worn since you worked at Citibank, struggling to push the metal pin through a small hole in the strap around your ankle. As you pushed yourself off the side of your bed to face the mirror on the dresser, you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. Hair curled, makeup done; it was the most normal you had looked in a long time.  

A firm knock on your door shook you out of your daze. You could sense Dean’s impatience by the mere tone of his voice, “C’mon (Y/N), we’re getting late. We’ve been waiting for…” you cut off his sentence as you opened the door. His eyebrows shot up the second he saw you in your red sweetheart necklined bodycon floor length dress. Despite picking up gorgeous women left and right, for once, Dean Winchester was speechless.

“You gonna say anything or just stare?” You teased boldly in an effort to hide your deep-seated need for affirmation by the one guy who would be the last to give it.

“Uh yeah” Despite wanting to just stop and admire the most beautiful woman he ever met, he had to regain a grasp on his nonchalant façade. “Mom called to ask if we had left yet. Sam started the car, if you’re ready”

You nodded in response, “I’ll be out in a second”. Even though his blunt disregard caused your heart to sink a little, you had your own icy façade to maintain. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel, how desperately you wanted him to notice you for something more than just a hunter, a killer. But at least before the demon case a few days ago he was still your best friend. Now, it’s like you barely even exist as a person. Maybe he’s tired of you, or maybe he just wants a docile, unscarred woman.  Someone who could never push a metal knife engraved with Enochian sigils clear through a human vessel holding a dark but human soul without battering an eye.  But that is exactly who you were. You moved to your bed to grab your gun, held back a piece of your dress on the right side of the slit, and slid the gun into your thigh holster. Docile was never really your forte anyway.

--

One thing you definitely didn’t miss since hunting became your fulltime job: black-tie formals. Like every single one you’ve ever been to, this was a giant pain in the ass. You were forced to talk to a bunch of British stooges and American hunters you didn’t care much to interact with about things that really didn’t matter. Even though your cheeks were flushed red from the extra attention you were getting from the many handsomely dressed men and women in the room, they just weren’t your type… they weren’t Dean. Every now and then, you’d try to glance at the shorter of your two best friends to see what he was doing and every time you did you regretted it: seeing him being as flirtatious as ever with effervescent secretarial British women was giving life to the little green monster sitting on your shoulder, weighing you down. By the time dinner was served, you had downed at least 6 glasses of champagne, which given your history with alcohol was basically water. Midway through the extravagant five course meal, Mic announced that the dance floor was “officially open”. You saw Dean spoon a mouthful of roast beef into his mouth as a vivacious British woman approached him to ask for a dance, which he eagerly accepted. As she led Dean to the dance floor, her manicured hand holding his, another brunette asked Sam for a dance. Without hesitation he turned to you, his eyes overflowing with concern at the fact that you would be alone. You slightly tilted your head to the side and smirked before mouthing “go” to your giant puppy-dog of a best friend.

But the longer you sat there, watching the man you are hopelessly in love with make eyes at the blond in the little black dress, the darker the cloud over your head became.  Just as you reached for your black rectangular clutch, you heard a voice call your name not a few feet away.

You turned to hazel-ish green eyes glimmering at you, his hand was extended as a signal for you to join him. You shook your head, “I was actually just heading out Ketch” you began to apologize.

“Just take my hand (Y/N)… he’s watching” he enticed.

You took a quick glance past him to see that Dean’s eyes were on you and Ketch for a fraction of a second before he averted his gaze to his date. You were still committed to leaving early but one dance wasn’t going to kill you. You placed your hand in Ketch’s, and as you did, he helped you out of the white cloth-draped chair and led you to the area where everyone was swaying to a bubbly waltz. He placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close enough to keep a single piece of paper from falling. You placed your one hand on his shoulder, signaling to him that you were ready to follow.  You hadn’t danced like this in so long, let alone with a man like Ketch that at first you felt stiff and reluctant. But as your muscle memory kicked in, you could feel yourself getting swept away as the wind instruments and string instruments complimented each other flawlessly. Even though Ketch was a ruthless killer, you wouldn’t be able to tell on the dance floor; he moved with such grace and poise. Every spin was crisp and clean.  As the music picked up pace, you were in awe at the fact that you and Ketch moved together as if you had done so before. In that moment, you didn’t even realize that Dean’s eyes had been glued to you the whole time.  And when Ketch suddenly dipped you, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, not because it was uncalled for but because you didn’t think you would have this much fun.

“Would you be so kind as to take a walk with me” Ketch proposed as he extended his elbow out, knowing that you would not refuse.

As you and Ketch walked outside of the main banquet hall to the open courtyard, you noticed a small stone bench in the center of a garden of flowers, lit only by the crescent moon. As you sat down, the coldness of bench traveled up your spine, causing you to twitch a little, eliciting a harmless scoff from Ketch.

“What are you laughing at?” you accused.

He chuckled again, “Nothing”.

You rolled your eyes at the typical male response to any and every question asked.

“You look truly lovely tonight (Y/N), I hope you know that” Ketch admitted, “And you are by far the best dance partner I have ever had.”

You looked down to your folded hands as the blood rushed to your cheeks and you couldn’t help but put a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The next thing you knew his hand was on your face, and his lips were on yours. You wanted to pull away but a part of you enjoyed the attention. You enjoyed the feeling of being wanted, of being appreciated. You kissed him back only briefly before Dean’s stupid face flashed under your eyelids. You pulled away abruptly and immediately pushed yourself off of the bench.

You were about to just walk away without another word but the better part of you knew it wasn’t right. As you turned on your heels to face him, you started to utter “ Ketch, I’m sorry, I’m…” but he cut you off before you could babble anymore.  “There’s no need to apologize (Y/N), I understand.” He assured.

Your eyes softened as you gave him a half-smile before turning to walk away.

As you approached your table in the banquet hall, you saw Sam with his phone glued to his ear. You placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention, causing him to jump a little, “Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like half an hour.” From the crinkles in his forehead and the urgency in voice, you knew something was wrong. “I’m sorry, my phone died so I just left it in my clutch” your eyes shifted to your velvety purse momentarily, “Where’s Dean?”

“I don’t know, he left a little after you did but he hasn’t been picking up either.” Sam is generally the calmer of the three, so when he freaks out, you know it’s an all hands on deck situation.

“C’mon, let’s find him” you urged. As you exited the banquet hall, you and Sam split directions; it was a square surrounded by halls so you would eventually meet up on the opposite side.

As you turned the first corner, you heard a harsh grunt, one you knew too well. Without hesitation, you pulled out your semi-automatic and turned off the safety. You brought up your gun to eye level just to see a hunched over Dean Winchester being dragged down the hall by a stalky man dressed in black at least as tall as Sam. By his side was the blonde Dean was dancing with earlier that night.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?!” you shouted, half in hope that Sam would hear from wherever he was.

Even though you were still 20 feet away from the Brits, you heard the woman mutter “crap” under her breath.

As they turned around and you saw Dean’s unconscious face, you could feel your blood starting to boil, giving energy to your muscles, preparing you to fight when needed.

“I’m giving you a choice, let him go…now or I will shoot you both” Your grip around the cool metal of the gun tightened.

The woman rolled her pretty blue eyes, doubting your threat. Reflexively, your finger pressed the trigger. A fraction of a second after the terse bang, the shot fired hit the ground where she stood, a few inches away from her blood red Louis Vuitton’s.  As the shot distracted her, Sam was able to connect the barrel of his gun to the back of the guard’s head, knocking him unconscious. Before he could grab the woman by her arm, she took off running down the corridor, her red-bottomed shoes clacking all along the way. But she didn’t matter anymore. You ran to your unconscious friend, worry drowning every crevice of your mind. “We need to get him out of here, call Cas. Now”

-- “He was given a dose of celosia cristata mixed with sodium pentothal” The Angel declared matter-of-factly.

Your silence was key for him to elaborate given that neither of you knew a word of what he said.

“Celosia is an herbal sedative and sodium pentothal has long been used as a truth telling serum. Luckily the effects of neither are permanent.”  He clarified.

You let out a breath of relief knowing that Dean would be okay, “Is there anything we can give him or..?”

Cas immediately cut you off , “He just needs rest (Y/N). He should be fine within 24 hours.”

“Thanks Cas” Sam interjected.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the British Men of Letters wanted to get out of Dean with ‘truth serum’ or if Ketch was just distracting you from their reconnaissance mission. You knew that once Dean was okay, it would be the first thing you and the Winchesters discussed.

But while your best friend was still unconscious on his memory foam mattress, you made sure to keep his glass of water on his bedside table filled and an extra water bottle on hand in case he woke up in the middle of the night. Despite Cas assuring you he would be okay, you weren’t going to leave Dean’s side until he was back to normal. Lucky for you Dean had a soft enough arm-chair in the corner of his room you could occupy until he woke.

And as you predicted, Dean did wake up at some point, a little before dawn. You weren’t truly asleep so even the faintest sound of an empty glass on the wooden night stand stirred you into complete consciousness.

“Do you need more water?” You whispered into the blackness. You were starting to wonder if he heard you when you heard him croak an inaudible sound of affirmation. Grabbing the water bottle you left on the ground next to your chair, you made your way over to Dean’s bed. As you twisted open the blue cap, he turned the small metal knob on his night lamp, revealing his squinted eyes and groggy face.

“I can drink from a water bottle (Y/N)” Dean commented.

“Right…of course” you admitted as you handed the plastic bottle to him, “How are you feeling?”

“Like hammered crap, but without all the booze.” Dean rubbed his forehead in a futile effort to clear the fog that had mugged up his head, “What the hell even happened?”

You folded your right leg under your body as you took a seat on the edge of his bed, “Long story short, you got drugged by your date with truth serum. The effects aren’t permanent. And you should be back to normal soon.”

Even in the dim light, you could see Dean’s Adam’s apple bob up and down slightly as he swallowed the last gulp of water. He wiped away the little droplets with the back of his hand before replying, “Guess I owe you then”.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his response as if you were someone who wouldn’t risk anything for him. Luckily you weren’t the one dosed with truth serum.

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me” you half-heartedly joked before slipping your leg from under your body and pushing yourself off of Dean’s bed.

What Dean said next made your stomach drop to the ground and your heart beat so hard you could hear the blood flow in your ears.

“What did you say?” you uttered as you turned to face him.

“If you were mine, I’d be able to make it up to you the way you deserve.” His jaw was slack and his eyes were relaxed; he was dead serious. And there was no way he was lying but you still couldn’t construct a response. “I know I’m the last person you’d want to be with, hell even Ketch was a better choice than me but…” You couldn’t help yourself anymore, and before you knew it, your lips were pressed against his. You had imagined this scenario a million different ways but nothing compared to the actual feeling of his soft supple lips on yours, reciprocating your passion and desire. You didn’t want to pull away but he needed to know. You needed him to know. “Dean, you mean so much more to me than any guy ever did. I…” This time Dean cut you off, but only briefly peeling away to add, “Me too”. You couldn’t help but smile as his strong arms grasped your waist and pulled you closer. You swung your leg off to his other side, straddling his lap. Of the list of reasons why you hated the British Men of Letters, the Gala would surly not be on it.