#awkward nervous dean is adorable to me

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— right people, wrong place

SUMMARY : part two of and their name was treason. confrontations and unexpected turn of events. the truth and the consequences. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst?, dirty talk/dirty thoughts, slight gunplay, cock bondage (i was scared), slight knife play, edging, sub!dean my beloved, degradation, cliffhangers (my saviour)

WORD COUNT : 3.3k

A/N : title from RM’s song💕. this fills the cock bondage square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I couldn’t stop thinking about James Bond getting his balls smacked xx

DEAN’S POV

He wasn’t going to lie, he felt betrayed. 

He also felt embarrassed. And ashamed. 

He could feel Sam’s gaze on him every once in a while.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, attempting to ignore the pity on Sam’s face. 

The tension that filled the car couldn’t even be soothed by music. He knew that the tension was originating from himself. It wasn’t entirely Sam’s inability to comfort him, or whatever Sam was trying to tell him by not actually saying anything.

He sort of wished Sam would just say anything, so that it could be over and done with. Even if it was just to tell him he was dumb and that they should’ve just left…

Whatever. 

How could he be so stupid?

He could still feel her. 

Her lips on his neck, his chest, and around his cock. He could feel her hands in his hair, nails scratching desperately down his back, the clench of her wet heat around him. Her warm skin against his, soft and smooth. 

He remembered every detail because she asked him to.

He remembered the taste of her painted lips. The taste of her sweet tongue. The taste of her flowery skin. The taste of her pussy. 

He could still hear her voice. The way she begged and cried. For everything. To stop, to never stop. The way she praised him for the way he pleasured her.

“Remember me.” 

How could he forget her? 

Especially now.

Sam broke the awkward silence with a clear of his throat before announcing: “Okay, Charlie’s got her exact location.” Dean grunted softly for Sam to continue, but inside he was grateful for Charlie’s quick, hard-work at tracking her down. “She’s staying in the Spire Hotel, it’s ten miles away from our current location.”

Even if he did see her again, he had no idea what he would say to her. Any type of conversation would be humiliating for him.

READER’S POV

When she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a white towel as her hair dripped with excess water, the last thing she expected was to be pushed into a wall so the front of her body faced the white, boring paint. A gun cocked audibly, the song of the chamber and bullets moving made her tense once the metal prodded at her ribs.

“I bet you didn’t think you’d see me again,” a familiar voice growled in her ear. She squirmed, turned as much as she could beneath the strong force of the man, to catch a glimpse of those beautiful green eyes and adorably dainty freckles. 

“You couldn’t have waited until after I’ve changed?” She whispered, only half nervous about pissing him off so much he actually went after her instead of cutting his losses. 

Dean chuckled bitterly and the gun moved away just for him to grab at her wrists in his painful grasp. With a thin rope, he tied her hands together behind her back, still pressing her against the wall with his hips. She squirmed again, but she was more aroused than afraid at the way he was handling her. 

“Stop moving,” he grunted and finally removed himself from her to yank her away from the wall. 

“Why?” She smirked, fluttering her lashes up at him as she allowed the towel to slip from her body. His eyes instantly dropped down to her breasts and sneaked lower, but it was quicker than she’d liked. He pushed her until she fell into the couch, leaning slightly on her side. “Thanks,” she muttered sarcastically, shifting to sit up straight and feel for the knot he made on the rope. 

Instead, she looked over to where the case had once been. It was missing, but she didn’t care much for it. She just had to make it out alive. She’d heard plenty of stories about Sam and Dean Winchester from Bela, she just didn’t know if they were exaggerated because Bela hated them so much. 

“Sam’s long gone with the case.” She looked over at Dean—who took a seat a foot away from her on the same couch—and rolled her eyes at him. He looked tired and messy still—from the sex. 

She eyed him curiously and he did the same. She could see the hickey on his pulse darkening, found the stain of her lipstick on the collar of his dress shirt, the missing buttons at the bottom when she became too impatient with them. His hair was a mess, but not the same mess from the way she pulled and tugged on it, it was now messy from his frustration. 

“You’re not as good as you think,” he broke the silence. 

“At sex?” She pretended to be serious and pouted a little. 

He faked a laugh. “Your plan is a mess, I didn’t expect to find you so quickly… I’m disappointed.” 

She scoffed and looked away from him, irritated and slightly embarrassed. She angrily searched for the knot and began to tug at random until she felt it become loose. 

“If you got the case back, why are you here?” She asked, dreading the possibility that maybe Bela was right about them being a step away from being serial killers. Dean leaned closer to her, a half-terrifying smirk on his plush lips.

“For revenge,” he whispered against her ear. Her skin prickled as his warm breath blew over her wet skin and on half-dry droplets, and her nipples tightened despite the anxiety that seized her body. 

His gun flashed against the lamplight and she chewed on her lip when she felt him tilt her head with the barrel of it against her jaw. Her stomach felt knotty and sick as the gun slid down her neck to her heart.

It was as if he were trying to imagine which way would be better. Her heart thudded with fear and she began to fumble with the knot she’d almost certainly started to loosen. He dragged the gun over her breast, across her nipple. Her skin tingled and she bit her lip, unfortunately aroused as his eyes followed the path of his steel gun. It moved lower and she watched the steel move down, as it became warm against her skin, rather than the enthralled eyes that were already steps ahead of her. 

He used the gun to part her thighs and she forced herself to look away, incredulously studying his face. She felt the metal against her folds, teasing and cold and slippery. Dean hummed deep in his chest and shifted to get a better look. 

Her legs opened wider, she was ashamed of that, but the way he bit his lip and turned pink was fascinating. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to her entrance and slid it back up to massage her clit with the warm arousal she could feel ruining the couch. 

She didn’t mind getting fucked by him in whatever way he wanted. What she minded was dying by his hand. She felt the rope slip from her wrist and she forced herself to focus on how to escape him and survive. 

His lips found hers in a surprisingly slow kiss. She lifted a brow and stared at the lashes that rested against pink freckled cheeks. He continued to blindly play with her clit and she was embarrassed to admit that part of her wanted to cum on his gun, but he pulled away with an almost cold stare that made her come to her senses. 

She braced herself and slowly pulled one hand out of the loosened knot and headbutted him as hard as she could. The gun fell loosely between her thighs and she gasped, more afraid of the gun going off than focused on the pain that spread across her forehead as Dean cupped his bloody nose. 

She grabbed the gun and slipped away before he could start grabbing at her again. Dean remained shocked, but his jaw clenched in anger and she shook away the rope before he could use it to his advantage and pointed the gun at him, her finger on the trigger. 

“I’m so sorry, your face is so pretty I kinda feel bad, but… I'm not a fan of you having the upper hand.” He blinked up at her, confused, stunned. He got up and she instantly pistol whipped him so he fell regrettably  hard and cold against the couch. 

She grimaced and watched him with the gun pointed at him, but he appeared to be knocked out cold. She waited for a few seconds before being sure about his unconsciousness. 

“Am I naked?” Dean's groggy voice made her smirk. She heard the clink and jingle of the handcuffs she used to keep him bound to the bed frame and turned around to admire her work. He did the same and eyed the metal wrapped around his wrists and the bed, and down at the pale yellow cloths that tied his ankles to the bottom of the bed. 

“Yeah, it’s payback for threatening me when I just came out of the shower.” She made her way to him, now dressed in a satiny robe, and gazed down at him with a pleased smile. 

He glared up at her. “You used me.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“We both used eachother,” she reminded him, “to pleasure ourselves.”

“No, you used me to get the signatures.” 

She laughed jokingly, then became serious. Dean frowned and squirmed when she sat down beside him. “Sex with you was purely for pleasure. It had nothing to do with the signatures, I could’ve gotten them without sleeping with you, trust me.”

“My brother-”

“Isn’t coming any time soon because I convinced him that we were fucking our hate away.” Dean's face fell and she showed him the messages she sent to Sam of her kissing him while he was unconscious. It looked believable. 

Dean's head bounced back on the pillow as he huffed out a breath in defeat. She moved her attention to the objects she’d placed on the bedside table behind her. Knives clashed and gleamed in the moonlight when she tugged the long, slim rope from the table.

She turned to find Dean with a blush on his cheeks. She lifted a brow and leaned towards him, the red rope dangled and slid with her. Dean swallowed, quickly glanced at the rope, and attempted to look over her body to catch a glimpse of what else she had on the table. 

“Were you going to kill me?” She asked to steal his attention and began to slowly unwind the rope from the coil it was in. 

“No,” he muttered, eyeing her movements cautiously. “Are you going to kill me?” 

She snickered mockingly and straddled his thighs instead of answering him. She admired him beneath her, from his messy brown locks on his head, the plush of his pink lips, to the redness clawing its way down his freckled chest, the softness of his stomach, and his semi-hard cock. 

He really was so beautiful, irritatingly hot, especially tied up. The way he was tied up to the bed made his arms look stronger and damn if she didn’t realise now that she never found someone else as attractive as she found him. 

“What are you doing?” Dean squirmed, and tugged at the cuffs in an attempt to pull himself upwards. 

“Lookin’ at you.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. 

“What are you gonna do?” He rephrased his question. 

Instead of giving him an answer, she slithered up his body, and closely studied his face. She traced the faint lines on his forehead, the tiny scar in the middle and the furrow of his brows. The curve of his lashes, the wrinkles at the corner of his curious green eyes, the bags beneath. The almost hard to tell crookedness of his nose, the freckles dusted across his flushed cheeks, the direction of his stubble. The shape of his lips, the freckles that managed to make their way onto the pillowy flesh. 

She kissed him. 

Slowly, experimentally. 

She waited for his response, kept the kiss PG-13, and received a soft moan from him as approval of her approach. The kiss slowly unravelled into something hotter, passionate, and even aggressive. 

He may have been tied up but it didn’t stop him from using his teeth to try to get the upper hand. All it did was set the mood. She gave what he did. From soft nibbles to harsh stinging of teeth on the puffy, red flesh of their sensitive lips. 

She reached down between their bodies to grip his cock at the base and slowly ran her dry hand up and down. Dean grunted against her mouth and bit her lip roughly in retaliation. She chucked and released him to play with the wetness between her legs instead. She dipped three fingers through the dampness and rubbed her clit to draw more arousal from herself. 

“I hate you,” Dean panted against her lips. 

“You kiss everyone you hate like that?” 

Before Dean could even get a word in, her hand was wrapped around his cock again to drag the tip around her slick entrance. His moan was strained and his words died after evaporating in his mind. 

“I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me,” she murmured aginst his lips, refusing to give into his pleading eyes.  “I can still feel you inside me. Still feel your lips and tongue on my clit. On my tits. God, you are such a filthy whore, Dean.” He whimpered and the frame of the bed squeaked when he tugged at the restraints. “You eat pussy like a starved man. Want me to ride your pretty face again? Or did you like it better when you forced me to keep my legs open for you-”

“Please,” Dean whined, nuzzling her nose with his to ask for a kiss that she refused to give him once again. 

“No,” she replied firmly. Unfortunately for him, she moved away from him and he lost the wet heat of her pussy. His cock twitched excitedly when she slowly undid the lazy knot of her robe. He stared at what little skin she revealed and watched her grab the slim red rope he’d forgotten about completely. 

“What’s that for?“ 

“Your pretty cock,” she finally answered. Her eyes were glued to his face to gather as much information about how he was feeling. He swallowed and silently watched her start to cave his hardened cock with the rope. He hissed and moaned and whimpered at her light touch, at the rub of the thick strand against his sensitive, throbbing skin. 

When she finished, she tugged experimentally at the rope so that it tightened around his dick and then released it after a few seconds. She repeated the same action a few times and proceeded to carefully massage the skin beneath the head of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathed out, his thighs became tense and his hips bucked upwards. He looked away from the way the rope was intricately wrapped around him and stared at her amused face with his teeth buried in his bottom lip. 

“You look pretty when you come,” she murmured, her eyes flickered up to his. He blushed harder and squirmed more than he already was. “Can’t say every man looks pretty when they come, but damn… you sure know how to put on a show.” She squeezed his cock so he felt the rope and then relaxed her grip to tease the slit of his cock and play with his precum. 

“Fuck. Please, can’t you-”

“No,” she interrupted him. He licked his lips and frowned. She moved her hand away and reached over to the counter where a set of knives were sitting inside a knife storage bag. “I want this to last.” He swallowed when she picked out a knife. She stared at her reflection and unfocused her eyes to watch Dean behind the knife she held. “I’m not gonna hurt you… unless you count how painfully hard you are as me hurting you.”

She used the blunt edge of the knife to slide down his neck, slowly she followed the dips in his body, and with her eyes followed the messy trail of freckles on his sweaty skin. When the cold blade came closer to his crotch, Dean’s body became tense. 

“Can you not-”

“Shut up,” she replied instantly, and turned the knife over to the flat side when she slid it up against the rope around his dick. She watched him chew on his lip, but his stomach twitching along with his body showed her the true pleasure he felt when she spread his precum over his cock with the flat surface of the cold knife in the most casual way. 

“Look at you, you’re so turned on,” she teased. Dean swallowed again and licked his lip. She tugged gently at the rope with the knife and released the rope again after a few seconds. Dean groaned softly and squirmed relentlessly, the restraints on his body being tugged caused the bed to creak. 

“I wanna cum, please,” he murmured.

“I know, baby.” Mercifully, she placed the knife down on the table and gave him no chance to relax before wrapping her lips around the sensitive head of his cock and sucked at the precum that watered her mouth almost instantly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, hips bucking up into her warm mouth. She released the tip to kiss and lick down the shaft, teasingly tracing the throbbing veins with her tongue until he started begging again. 

“Just let me- why won’t you let me cum?” 

She laughed and watched the arousing amount of precum that seeped into the ropes and dribbled down the rest of his cock with her saliva. She tugged at the rope, smiling playfully at him. “God, I just really loved it when you begged me to let you cum inside me last night.” 

“Please,” he laughed breathlessly, closed his eyes, kept moving his hips off the bed despite the way she became instead against his thighs. 

“Where?” She asked with a smirk, he opened his eyes and turned a shade darker. “Tell me where you wanna cum and I’ll give it to you, Dean,” she promised, leaning forward as she spoke so she could kiss him hard once she finished. 

He moaned against her mouth, and opened his lips without hesitation, waiting for her tongue to explore him as thoroughly as she had before. But she only gave a tiny, playful lick against his tongue with her own and moved down his neck to suck and bite at the mark she left behind earlier. 

 “Dean,” she murmured expectantly and squeezed his cock gently in her hands. Dean grunted in surprise, the handcuffs clinked, and the bed squeaked beneath the impatient shift of his hips.

“I wanna fill you up again, sweetheart, I wanna watch my cum.. drip out of your pretty pussy so I can lick it clean, and then make you cum on my tongue. Let me feel you,” he pleaded shamelessly, unaware of the wave of arousal that made her drip down her thighs once he spoke.

“You’re so pretty when you beg and so fucking filthy,” she murmured against his parted lips and simply pulled at the rope so it fall apart around his painfully hard and sensitive cock. “Pussy-obsessed slut, are you always this desperate?” 

She slowly aligned his cock with her dripping entrance and watched him hold his breath momentarily. His body slowly turned to jelly and he waited in unabashed anticipation for his cock to be buried deep inside her warmth once more. When the tip pressed into her, he released a shaky breath of relief, moaned loudly, and swirled his hips to push himself deeper into her. 

“You drive me so fucking crazy,” he murmured and nibbled on her lip, “ever since that damned taxi ride, I knew you were trouble.” 

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[myshipshipsitself]

Initial thoughts on Between Us Ep 9 (Spoilers ahead)

Look, I’m trying to enjoy Bee and Prince. I really am. Bee is precious. And I’m always a sucker for the side ships. But I literally do not give a single fuck, and I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve failed my fellow side-ship-lovers. But I just cannot care. I thought their first kiss was awkward and weird, (LOOK, kissing someone is one of the few instances that does NOT fall under the “Ask forgiveness, not permission” category. If you feel the need to immediately apologize after kissing someone, you shouldn’t have kissed them! Take a page outta Win’s book, Bee.)

Waan and Tul are sweet and I love them, but Tul is a dumbass. Sir, you are a very bad liar. Like, it’s actually giving me secondhand embarrassment to watch. That said, I am curious to see how Waan finally finds out, and if those two work out. I do like them together a lot. I like how they built a friendship online before ever meeting, and I love Tul’s reaction the first time he met Waan in person, and I fucking ADORE how Win seems to be shipping it? Like I don’t think he even realizes what’s going on, but he’s just constantly like, putting them together and then just fucking off somewhere else. I love how that happens, and I want at least one more scene of that happening before the end of the series, please. Boy just saw how his friend, Tul acted the first time he met Waan, like a lovesick puppy who was trying and failing desperately to figure out how Flirting works, and Win was just like, ‘Uh. Ok, you’re hopeless, let me wingman for you.’ 

OK Now into the meat of the episode. My loves, my boys, my precious. 

Team being nervous before the competition was so--I just wanted to hug him. I love that Dean was the one that noticed and told Win to go take care of his boy. I love that when they came out to the pool and gathered around Team after the competition, Dean was the one that reached out to Team first. He is President of the club, and also dating Team’s best friend. I want them to be friends. I want them to find that whatever weird sort-of-friendship level that comes with dating each other’s best friend, and caring about each other. And this felt like that, and it was nice. 

Win seeing Team off before he left to go see his parents was so sweet! He was just so concerned, and caring, and wanted to spend every possible second he could with Team before he left, and that was sweet. 

Team’s parents are nice, I think they’d be ok with Team coming out to them. Idk, I hope they would be. The questions about a girlfriend were very pointed, and definitely made it clear that Team is not out to them, which is sad. But also barely even questioning, and letting Team sleep with them was sweet. (I was lowkey expecting one of them to tease him about how he slept alone at school, and for Team to just get super uncomfortable and like, insert flashbacks of him cuddling up to Win. I think that would’ve been a great addition). 

Wiew teasing Win is such a little brother move, but also he loves his future brother-in-law already and wants Team to be around, ok. Win, how could you deprive him of that?! But then how he immediately changes when he hears Team crying over the phone. Protect Mode.

Until we got the teaser clip with Team crying and telling Win that Ton died cause of him, I had been very worried the episode would end with Win driving his bike in the rain, and Team sobbing at the grave. I’m glad it didn’t end there. SO GLAD. 

Can I even say enough how wonderful and supportive Win is? But Oh God the look in his eyes when Team said it would’ve been better if he’d been the one that died?! And how he just looks towards the grave like, ‘Who are you?’ It’s clear that Win has no idea what’s going on at that point, but that he is NOT OK with wherever this logic train is headed. He just must protect his love, and that is his only priority, and this is why we love him. 

I am curious about the phone call with Team and his mom. The way he said, “He happens to be in town, so we met up.” Who did he tell his mom that he’s with? A senior from his club? A friend? Why would he not bring him home in that case? Why is it then important for Team to bring him home for breakfast to meet them the next morning? Did Team come out to his mom over the phone? But he’s still not certain what to call Win, or what their relationship is (I mean, come on, seriously? You can’t honestly think he’s not head over heels in love with you after all this, right?) so who did he tell his mom that he’s with?! 

At first I wondered why Win didn’t take Team home to his parents’ house, but it makes sense, I think. Win probably would’ve asked him where his parents’ house is so he could take him home, but Team didn’t want to go home. That’s pretty clear when they’re at the grave and Win says he’s going to take him home. But at some point, Team decided he didn’t want to go home. He needed comfort. He needed to be held and loved by the guy he’s in love with, and not have to worry about his parents finding out. He doesn’t want to worry about being too obvious, or his parents making Win sleep in the guest room when Team really just needs to fall asleep in his arms, or worried about his parents trying to make conversation and asking too many questions that Team isn’t ready to answer. 

In summary: If we don’t get that breakfast scene next week with Win, Team and Team’s parents, I’m gonna cry. I want it SO BAD. Please!! 

[rizlowwritessortof]

Take a Chance

The gifset of Dean giving himself that little pep talk from 7x04 inspired me to write this. Dean x Reader, Dean’s POV. Hope you like :)

For fuck’s sake, Dean, you’ve done this a thousand times. You can charm a woman without even breaking a sweat. Why are you so damn nervous?

Because, dumbass, it’s Y/N. This time it’s not some random bar chick that I’ll probably never lay eyes on again. And I don’t want to mess things up. I don’t want to do something that’ll make everything all awkward.

I just want… I just want to be with her. Whatever that means. And I don’t even know how to say that without making things all fucking weird.

Just tell her the truth. Well, the surface truth. Say you’re bored. Take a chance.

She doesn’t need to know you hate being in a separate room from her, that you miss being around her. That you feel not all there when she’s not around, like a piece is missing. That you’re dying to touch her. Like really touch her.

Okay. Here’s her door. Just heard a noise, so you know she’s awake. So knock already.

Dead silence.

“Yeah? Who is it?” She sounds out of breath.

“Dean.”

“Not really a good time, Dean.” She really does sound funny… oh, shit.

“Shit, you got company? Sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, I don’t have company.” Now she sounds, I don’t know, embarrassed - way to go, Winchester. “Is something wrong, Dean?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Just bored, you know? I mean, if you’re not busy...” Okay, I definitely heard a huffy little snort there… “I thought we could have a drink, watch a movie or somethin’?”

Dead silence again. Maybe I should just leave…

“Okay, give me a minute.” Whew. Just hope she’s not too annoyed at me bugging her.  Rustling around in there, she was probably all ready for bed. Whoa, let’s not think about that too hard. Lounging around on the bed in her panties and that little tank top she wears to bed sometimes… Easy, here she comes.

That door opens, and I can’t breathe for a minute. God, does she realize how stupid beautiful she is? Even just in an old t-shirt and jeans. A clingy old t-shirt and no bra. Soft old jeans with holes worn through them. Her hair’s messed up, her skin is all rosy and… oh, shit… her pupils are so big I almost can’t see the color of her eyes, her lips look like she’s been biting at ‘em, her nipples are hard… I interrupted something alright. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bother you, if...”

“No, no, it’s fine. Come in,” she says, still sounding a little breathless, and it’s sexy as hell.

“Brought a bottle of the good stuff. See, I’m not completely rude when I just show up on somebody’s doorstep.” She smiles. Okay. Fuckin’ relax, Dean.

“So, what are you in the mood for?” What? Oh, movie.

“I dunno. Whatever you want. Action?”

“I’ve got the perfect movie. John Wick. Not complicated, lots of hit man type violence, all beautiful and choreographed and fucking amazing, not messy and fucked up and monster-y like we deal with all the time.”

“Sounds awesome.” Really does, actually. She finds it on pay per view while I pour us a couple of drinks, good sipping whiskey. Maybe that’ll loosen me up. I’ve wanted to be alone with her for fucking ages, and now that I am… For fuck’s sake, Dean, you sound like a fourteen-year-old kid on his first date.  

I sit down on the bed and take my boots off so I can kick back on the bed. She’s fluffing pillows up all along the headboard so we can settle in comfy and watch. I hand her a glass, and she smiles, all sparkly eyes, and pats the bed beside her. Yes, ma’am. She stretches her legs out, crosses them at the ankle, her feet are bare. That should not make me start to get hard. For fuck’s sake. Think about something else. Monster guts, Sam’s hair in the shower drain, anything.

The movie’s starting, thank God. “Hey, I brought junk food. We can’t watch a movie without junk food.” I climb back off the bed and grab the bag I brought along, licorice and Milk Duds, M & Ms, all the good stuff. She makes a little ‘o’ with her mouth… damn… and pulls the Twizzlers out of the bag.

“I’ll say one thing for you, Dean, you’ve got good taste.” She grins, and I grin back. Yeah, I’ve got hella good taste. In everything.

Those first drinks go down quick and smooth, so I grab the bottle from the night stand and give us each a refill. Movie’s getting good, she’s really getting into it, and we’re both relaxed now, like we usually are with each other. Insert sigh of relief here. She grabs our bag of candy and shifts it across my lap to my other side, scooting over closer to me, and I put my arm around her so she can rest her head on my shoulder. Her hand lands on my thigh, and… I’m cool, it’s all good, I got this. She gets all snuggly and affectionate when she drinks, and I’m all over that, usually. Tonight, though, it feels like more. Just because I want it to be, I guess. Just take what you can get and be happy, Dean.

On our third drink now. She’s really cuddled up against me, her fingers keep drawing little patterns on my jeans, and I’ve been half hard for so long I can barely remember how it feels to be – well, not. She lets her head loll back on my arm a bit, looking up at me, her eyes all warm and fuzzy from the whiskey. “So, Dean? Did you… umm… hear anything when you came to my door tonight?”

“Hear anything? No, I don’t think so. Why?” Play dumb. You didn’t really hear anything, but you know damn well what was going on, you took one look at her and knew exactly what she was doing before you rudely interrupted.

“Know what I was doing?”

I catch my tongue between my teeth, try not to drool all over myself. “What?” Her fingers are trailing up and down my thigh now, and breathing easy is suddenly a challenge.

“I was touching myself. Trying to get myself off.”

“Oh.” What am I supposed to say? “Sorry I – uh – interrupted.”

“I was thinking about you.”

Easy, Dean. Tap the brakes. Slow and easy. “Oh, yeah?” I let my arm slide down from her shoulder to her waist, slip my fingers just barely under the hem of her shirt so I can brush against her smooth, warm skin. “What exactly were you thinking about me?” Her hand is getting closer and closer to my dick, and that eager little shit is getting twitchy.

“I was wishing it was you touching me. Imagining that you were teasing me, getting ready to use that sexy mouth of yours on me. I was almost there, too. And then you knocked on my door.”

So I clear my throat, take a deep breath. “So, you – uh – you thought about me tonight when you were – uh...” I finally force my eyes to look at her, and... son of a bitch. Dude, she's looking at you like you're fucking everything she wants, and you can not screw this up.

“Tonight? Dean, I think about you all the time.”

I reach up and touch her face, and I can't take my eyes off her lips. “Well, I could...” She's getting closer, and damn, I want to kiss her so bad there's no stopping it. Her lips touch mine, and holy fuck – there’s no coming back from this one. Shit’s goin’ down, there are gonna be casualties. Just a couple of soft kisses now, testing the waters a little. “I could – uh – help you finish what you started. If you want.” My lips are barely touching hers while I talk, and holy shit, it feels amazing.

All of a sudden she shifts one leg over me and climbs onto my lap. My lap is full of warm, soft, sexy Y/N. She’s all snugged up against me, and damn – I don’t think I could get any harder. “Is that for me?” she whispers, just kind of grinding herself against my cock, and fuck… I have to close my eyes for a second, get hold of myself.

“Yeah, sweetheart. That’s what you do to me. See, I think about you all the time, too.”

“You do?” Fuck, she’s got her lips right next to my ear, just sort of nuzzling up to me, kissing my neck… Nngggg, biting my earlobe - damn, girl…

“All the fucking time.” My hands are on her waist, her skin is just like warm satin. I just, real slow, move my hands up her sides, bringing her shirt along with them, and she lifts her arms up, lets me pull it off.

Fuck.

Me.

Just look at her.

Her skin just… it glows. I reach out to touch her, just barely brush my fingertips over those warm, soft curves, and then I cup those beauties in my hands and squeeze, gentle, just feeling their weight in my palms. God, she is so fucking gorgeous, I can’t help but lean in to run my tongue over one of those hard nipples, and then I just suck it into my mouth. I could do this for hours, just to hear those little whimpers that she’s trying to keep from being too loud. She’s got her fingers in my hair now, and it feels amazing.

That other nipple is just begging for some attention, and who am I to say no? She’s rubbing that pussy on me, hard as she can manage, and I nip at her just a little with my teeth, just to show her how crazy she’s making me. She just full-on moaned my name, and if she keeps that up I might blow my load before we even get to the main event.

I keep one hand full of her beautiful breast and go after her lips, pushing my tongue against hers, best damn kiss I’ve ever had. Every part of her that I touch or taste just makes me want to keep doing it forever. I can feel her nails running down my chest, and she’s… oh, fuck, she’s unbuttoning my jeans, sliding my zipper down, and I just might not live through this. Jesus, if she touches me… Oh, fuck, she’s shoving her hand into my boxers, closing her fingers around me and pumping me, and I just fucking growled into our kiss.  

I pull back from her a little, fighting for control, and then I put my hands on her waist and lift her off of me, laying her back on the pillows and kissing her hard while I undo her jeans. Oh, holy fuck… when I interrupted her happy fun time, she didn’t bother putting her panties back on…

“Baby, you’re killing me,” I manage to get out while I’m yanking those jeans down. I stand up, pulling them off her legs and dropping them to the floor, and while I’m at it, I strip down, too. She swears kinda soft, and when I look at her, she’s staring at my cock, her eyes slowly moving back up my body to my face.

“Holy shit, Dean,” she whispers, and fuck… I feel the same way about her. She’s a fucking goddess.

“Right backatcha, sweetheart,” I fire back, and then I just go for the gold. I mean, I’ve gotta taste her, I’ve been dreaming about it for so damn long… She almost yells when I just dive in there and lick that beautiful pussy from bottom to top. She cuffs me one, real gentle, on the side of my head, and I give her my best puppy dog eyes. “Sorry.”

“Warn a girl,” she giggles, and I just give her a grin and go back to work.

Let me tell you, there is nothing better than this. She’s squirming and pushing herself up into my face, making noises that’d make a pro blush, and I can’t get enough. She’s got one hand grabbing my hair, the other one is fisted in the blankets like her life depends on it. I’m two fingers deep in her now, and I’ve got that spot right under the tips of them, just rubbing and rubbing… One little wiggle of my tongue with just the right amount of pressure on her clit, and fuck if she doesn’t scream, coming all over my fingers and tongue. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner.

Once I get her gentled down a little, I make my way up to kiss her, trying to hold back, because I can feel my cock head brushing against her, and it’s driving me fucking insane. She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet, so I just kiss her easy, slow, wait for her to look at me and let me know it’s okay.

“Are you saving that thing for an emergency, or what?” she teases, her voice a little raspy, and she bucks up against me. Takes my breath away for a minute.

“Well… this kind of seems like an emergency, I guess.”

“It’s gonna be if you don’t...” she starts out, but I just start pushing inside her, slow and steady, trying not to lose my shit because this is the best fucking feeling in the world. Soft like velvet, slick and tight and hot, and ohmygod I’m just done for a few seconds, just soaking it in, fucking dizzy from the feeling.

“You feel like heaven, sweetheart,” I finally manage, my voice sounds fucking wrecked. She’s ruining me.

“Dean…” I can feel her shaking, her thighs are just trembling around me, and she sounds almost as desperate as I feel right now. “Dean, please...”

Well, hell… that’s all it takes. My downstairs brain takes over completely, and it feels so damn good to be pounding into her, having her thrust up into every stroke, squeezing around me until it’s on the edge of too much. I’m gonna burst, but I want her to come with me. I reach down between us and rub over that hard little button, fast and rough, and she’s shouting again, pulsing around me and my fucking eyes roll back in my head. I just drive myself into her, again and again until I think there can’t be anything left, fucking throbbing, my balls drawn up so tight it almost hurts, and I growl out her name before my strength leaves me and I lower myself down.  We’re all sweaty and slick, breathing hard, my heart’s about to pound out of my chest. My head’s buried in her neck, my arms are shaky, but I’m still managing not to just crush her with my weight.

God, I don’t want to move, but I have to. I pull out, slow, and it punches a moan from deep inside of me somewhere. I drop down to my back beside her, and neither one of us moves for a while. I feel her fingers kind of nudge up against mine, so I take hold of her hand.

“Dean, that was...” Her voice is quiet, maybe even shy, and I give her hand a squeeze.

“Yeah. You’re amazing.” She’s rolling over towards me, so I let go of her hand and put my arm around her, pull her up close beside me, all the curves and the soft up against me. Feels so good.

Everything seems so quiet now, even the movie is over, it’s all hushed and I’m just so damn contented right now I could stay forever. Well, I wish I could.

“Dean,” she starts off again, her fingers are back to tracing little patterns on my chest, and I think she’s nervous. “Hey, is this gonna be one of those things that we just never talk about again?”

She sounds nervous. And let’s be real, so am I. This is Y/N I’ve got in my arms here, and she’s too important to me to fuck this up. So I kiss her forehead and put my finger under her chin to make her tilt her head up my way, look into my eyes. I wanna see what’s there. And, damn – I see the same thing I’m feeling. “Look, I’ll handle this however you want, sweetheart. But I gotta be honest, I don’t want this to be one of those things.”

Her eyes are just searching mine, like she’s looking for the truth, and I can’t hide it from her anymore.

I was never very good at hiding anything from her. She sees right through me. I think that’s one of the things I love about her. Yeah, yeah, don’t make it a thing. Not like I said it out loud.

She nods at me, gives me a little smile, then snuggles right back up on my shoulder. Yeah, that’s good. “So, I have to ask. When you came over tonight, did you want this to happen? I mean, was that the plan?”

I can’t help but smile at that. “When I came over tonight, there wasn’t a plan. I just needed to be with you.”

She hugs me, and I can feel her smile. “Good answer, Winchester.”

@saenalife    @salvachester    @misswhizzy    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid    @aprofoundbondwithdean    @mamapeterson    @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel    @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @jessica-bones-winchester    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess    @deangirl96    @iamflanneltrash    @deanslittleangel2y5    @melanie451    @juliaspnlover    @lovin-ackles    @spectaculacular-sammy    @dyingforlove1992    @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean   @avasmommy224    @shadowlightforcast    @tonifish    @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @angelofwinchester17    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm    @purplecocopops    @feelmyroarrrr    @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie    @tanithlowisabamf    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic    @kreweofimp    @deansbaekaz2y5    @trippleberrydeanpie    @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma    @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirst    @randomvlogstuff    @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms    @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1    @hamartiamacguffin    @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017​    @bringmesomepie56​

[winchester-girl67]

Meet The Parents

Summary: The reader takes Dean home for a traditional Irish dinner on St. Paddy's day, but the food doesn't sit well with him.

Requested by Anonymous: "could you do a dean winchester x reader? they celebrate st patricks day together. like the readers parents invite dean to an irish dinner or something."

Pairing: Dean x reader (established relationship)

Square: Free space @j3bingo​

Word Count: 2,891

Rating: Teen

Warnings: language, drinking, sick!Dean, mentions of vomiting, overbearing parents, arguing, pinching, a little angst, kissing, fluff

A/N: My first request, I hope you like it Anon 🍀

_____ 

"What are you wearing?"

"Uh.. no good?" Dean questioned, smoothing out his red shirt. The one you'd always told him you loved him in.

"Um, I mean you look great but, are you sure you don't wanna wear green? It is St. Paddy's day and my mom can be a little aggressive about some traditions." You warned, gesturing towards the forest green top you'd finally decided on wearing after hemming-and-hawing for a half hour while Dean was in the shower.

"I was going to, but I got toothpaste on it so it's in the wash. This was all I had left." He shrugged.

"It's fine," you said after a moment of thought, "-it'll be fine. You're a guest, I'm sure she'll be on her best behaviour."

You were more trying to convince yourself than your boyfriend. Somehow, you seemed to be more anxious than he was.

"Y/N." Dean tried to draw your attention away from your worrying mind. It was the first time he was meeting your parents and you were a little nervous. "Sweetheart, they're gonna love me, okay? Don't worry, I'm gonna be my usual adorable, charming self and I won't mention that you're still hunting."

"Oh my gosh, why did you have to bring that up?! You know they would lose their shit if they knew I was still a hunter, not to mention dating one." You sucked in a deep breath, fanning yourself with your shirt to stave off the stress sweat; you didn't want to take another shower.

"Baby, calm down. I talk to your mom on the phone all the time, I'm telling you we have a good rapport and the hunting thing won't even come up." Dean promised, kissing your temple and rubbing your back.

"I'm not worried about you, De." You assured him, calming a bit when he tugged you into a hug and squeezed you in his arms. You loved the grounding feeling he gave you when he did that. "...My parents can be a little overbearing."

"Sweetheart, do you know who you're talking to? I'm the king of overbearing parents, I'm sure they're not as bad as you think." He insisted, kissing your cheek.

You turned your face into his and caught his lips with yours. Sighing when you pulled away and glanced up at his loving green eyes. He had no idea... but he was going to find out.

You stopped at the small grocery store near your parents' house to pick up an apple pie and a bottle of whiskey. Usually you would've gotten a bottle of wine for a dinner party, but it was St. Paddy's day after all.

"You must be Dean," your mother cheered, pulling him in for an awkward hug on the front porch. He jumped when she reached around and pinched his bum, nearly dropping the bottle of whiskey he held.

"Whoa!" He yelped in surprise and she released him with a laugh.

"Mom, seriously? I thought I asked you not to do that." You whined, glaring hard at her.

"Oh relax, Y/N, I was only teasing him. You should've told him to wear green, especially today." She said as if it was a right of passage to pinch someone not wearing green on St. Paddy's day.

"You could've warned me," Dean hissed at you when your mother walked ahead of you into the house and towards the kitchen where your father was preparing the meal.

"I told you to wear green and I texted her from the car, but she never listens." You explained, following after your mother, Dean tagging behind.

You placed the apple pie on the empty spot on the counter, making room for Dean to set the whiskey down as well. Your father setting the food to simmer before embracing you in a warm hug.

"I hope you two are hungry, we've got all the basics for a traditional Irish dinner." Your father said, greeting Dean with a hardy handshake.

"Tr-traditional- You didn't?" You gulped, taking a peek into the large pot on the stove. "Can't we order a pizza instead?"

"Y/N, your father has been cooking all day preparing this dinner. Besides, you used to love this meal as a kid." Your mother scolded.

"Yeah... back when I didn't know what it was..." you muttered quietly to yourself so Dean couldn't hear.

"Smells delicious," Dean complimented, flashing a lopsided grin at you.

Poor guy didn't know any better.

_____

"This is great, what did you call it again?" Dean asked your father with a mouthful.

"Beef tripe stew." Your father answered proudly as Dean sucked down another spoonful.

"S'really good," he hummed, looking at you and smiling. "What is tripe?"

"Don't ask," you warned, shaking your head and picking at your food.

"So, Dean. What is it you're doing now?" Your father questioned out of nowhere. You coughed on a bite of potato and quickly took a sip of water to wash it down.

"I fix up old cars," Dean said, catching a worried glance from you, "you'd be surprised what people would pay for a mint condition vintage vehicle. I just finished fixing up a sixty-nine Camaro and you wouldn’t believe what this guy paid for it."

"Neat," was all your father said. "And what are your intentions? -with my daughter."

"Dad," you warned, but he just glanced at you for a moment before returning his questioning gaze back to Dean.

"Well, you've been dating for over a year now and I want to know if I should be expecting good news in the near future." Your father insisted.

"Dean and I are happy, isn't that enough?"

"I'm just curious, I am your father and I'm allowed to ask." He stated, sharing a look with you that made you feel like a teenager again. It's no wonder you rebelled and got into hunting just out of high school; following in your grandparents' footsteps.

"Not the first time you meet him in person you're not." You shook your head angrily.

"Y/N," your father tsked as if he was telling you to stop arguing.

"Just stop giving my boyfriend the third degree, okay?" You glared up from your food.

"Sweetheart, it's alright. I understand, they just care about you. We're on the same side." Dean said, patting your leg and giving your knee a squeeze. "To answer your question, sir, I intend on sharing my life with your daughter and to be perfectly honest, other than that, I don't really care if we ever get married. I'll do whatever she wants as long as she wants me. I love her and I believe she loves me back. At least, this morning she did but the look she's giving me right now says I'm in for it when we get home." He laughed.

"You know I love you too, dork." You admitted, softening your gaze and lacing your fingers with his hand still on your knee.

You just found it a little awkward in front of your parents, though Dean didn't seem to mind. He was more of a fan of public displays of affection than you. And though it made you uncomfortable sometimes, you would never discourage that affection; you still craved it even if it made you blush.

"Sounds like you got yourself a keeper," your mother beamed, but your father seemed a little put off.

"Why not get married if you love each other?" He questioned, dropping his spoon into his bowl and giving you his full attention. "Neither of you are getting any younger. What if you want a family-"

"It's just not the right time, Dad. Dean's asked me many times but I'm just not ready." You said, cutting him off and pushing around your food with your spoon.

Your relationship had a rocky start to it, but you and Dean had finally settled into something that worked for the both of you and just like you told him, it was too soon. With hunting and his tendency to pull away when times got rough, you didn’t want to stir things up when you were, at last, in a good place. That didn’t mean you were opposed to getting married in the future, but you knew you'd be rushing it if you agreed to one of his whims. The last time he asked you being during your vacation with Sam and Eileen in Vegas. But you rather not get hitched by an Elvis impersonator.

"Back in my day, you were supposed to ask for the father's blessing before proposing." Said your father who was obviously in a mood.

"Yeah well, that was a long time ago and as much as we'd like your blessing, we don't need it to get married. All that matters is that I love him and want to spend my life with him-"

"It's a matter of respect, Y/N."

"Alright you two, enough! We’re supposed to be having a nice meal." Your mother demanded, slamming her open palm on the table, making you jump and a couple of dishes rattle. "...Dean, can I get you some more?"

"Yes, please." Dean beamed, holding out his bowl as your mother scooped out another serving for him. "We gotta get this recipe from you guys. Right, sweetheart?" He said, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"Mm," you hummed, poking at your food again. You were starving but not enough to eat tripe.

The heavy air around the dinner table cleared as Dean told the story of how you first met. You always loved the way he told it, but interrupted a couple of times when he purposefully exaggerated; nudging your arm and smiling at you to get you out of your funk. It always worked, he knew that you had a soft spot for that damn smile of his. The one that showed off his pearly teeth.

After dinner, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom where you splashed some cold water on your face while Dean helped your parents with the dishes.

"Hey, where's Dean?" You asked, emerging from the bathroom and drying your damp hands on your jeans.

"Outside, getting some air." Your mother said, starting the dishwasher.

"Why? What did you say to him?" You narrowed your eyes and turned your attention to your father.

"Nothing, I gave him the recipe for the stew, is all." He shrugged, going back to stowing away leftovers in glass containers.

"He looked kind of pale, maybe you should check on him." Your mother worried and you nodded turning for the door.

He knew.

You found Dean on the front porch hanging his head over the railing. He barely acknowledged that it was you until you placed a palm on his back and rubbed up between his shoulder blades.

"How you holding up?" You asked the only man you'd ever known to have an iron stomach, up until now. He just glanced back at you, emotionless and very pale. "What?"

"Tripe... It's stomach lining, Y/N, and you let me eat it. I thought you loved me." He grunted, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his forehead.

"Don't be so dramatic. You liked it up until you knew what it was." You said, scratching the short hairs on the back of his neck, trying to relax him.

"So?"

"So, I've seen you eat worse." You chuckled. "Like that time you ate that brownish paste from the-"

"Y/N, please." Dean groaned, holding his stomach.

You could see the nausea in his expression as he swallowed the lump in his throat and you rushed to comfort him. Giving him a side hug and kissing his hair as he continued to brace himself on the railing. You rubbed your hand up and down his back until a bit of colour started to return to his cheeks and he straightened up, turning to face you.

"Did you throw up?"

"Mhm, yeah, over the railing. I think I got your mother's Daffodils." He pointed and you shushed him.

"That's okay, I'll hose them down before we leave." You said, gently pulling him into a hug that he quickly melted into, draping his arms around you.

"Did you really grow up eating that stuff?" He asked into your hair, his sour breath on your neck, though you didn't mind.

There were plenty of times he cared for you when you weren't at your best or most attractive and he never made you feel less than beautiful. You could do the same for him.

"Uh-huh, figured out what it was around high school and refused to eat it ever since. The trick is to eat around the tripe; potatoes, carrots, peas, and then dump the rest in the trash when they're not looking." You explained with a shrug, it was something you'd been doing for years.

"Your father hates me," he mumbled into the crook of your neck.

"No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does. I can't blame him though, I took you away from them." He muttered, tugging you back into himself and holding you close when you tried to pull away to look at him.

"Dean, I was on the road hunting when I met you. You didn't take me away from anyone." You insisted, hearing him sigh. "Still think your parents are worse than mine?"

"We'll call it a tie, for now." He laughed softly.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I'll get you a stiff drink." You said, patting his back but he wouldn't let you go.

"Do we have to?" He whined, nuzzling more into your neck, just breathing in your scent. You'd come to realize that calmed him, especially in more mundane settings where he didn't need to uphold that tough guy facade.

"Yeah," you sighed, "you left the car keys inside on the counter."

"Damn, too bad." Dean joked, still holding you tight.

"Hey, you're the one that made these plans with my mom." You reminded him, having been opposed to the whole idea simply because you knew things would work out this way.

"I know," he nodded, "you don't have to say it."

"Say what?"

"...-'I told you so'."

"Well... I did." You grinned, clearly teasing him.

"I'm aware, sweetheart." He said and you turned in his arms so your back was against his chest.

He continued to cling to you, embracing you with his hands resting on your stomach and his chin on your shoulder. You laughed and he chuckled as he awkwardly waddled behind you as you walked towards the front door. He gave you another squeeze and planted a wet kiss to your cheek before you opened the door to join your parents back inside.

"Here," you said, filling a tumbler with an obtuse amount of strong smelling amber liquid. "It’s whiskey. Trust me, you'll feel better in no time. Or you'll be so buzzed that you won't care."

"Getting me wasted isn't gonna work, sweetheart. You owe me. Big time." He whispered against the shell of your ear so only you could hear.

"I'm sure we can work some sort of arrangement out." You kissed his cheek and handed him the glass. "You feeling up to a slice of pie?" Dean's face lighting up. You chuckled, he always did bounce back fast. "Ice cream?" He nodded, licking his lips.

Dean helped you dish out a piece of pie for each of you, adding a couple scoops of ice cream to each plate before you handed them off to your parents who settled in the living room.

"Hey, Y/N/N. That other thing we ate, dris-heen, do I wanna Google that?" Dean questioned while it was just you and him in the kitchen.

"No, honey." You shook your head.

"It's something just as gross, isn't it?" He asked, poking his fork into his slice of pie.

"Uh-huh," you nodded, you weren't about to tell him that drisheen was a type of blood sausage. Him and his stomach had been through enough for one night.

"I think I'm gonna need another drink, you okay to drive us home later?" He said, polishing off the large glass of whiskey you'd given him.

"Yeah, I'll be designated driver, you've earned it. Thank you for being so great." You stood up on your tiptoes to peck a kiss to his lips just as he took a bite of pie, Dean smiling into it as he tried to swallow.

"Sweetheart?"

"Mhm," you hummed, licking the sweet stickiness that lingered on your lips from his.

"If you ever doubt how much I love you, do me a favour and remember tonight." He said, staring deep into your Y/E/C eyes as he surprisingly ignored the combination of pie and ice cream he'd set down on the counter next to himself.

"I can do that," you promised, pressing your lips to his again a little firmer, distracting him as you slid your hands down to his ass, pinching him hard enough to bruise. He grunted into your mouth, "I'm sorry, I had to. You didn't wear green." You giggled into another kiss. Dean chasing your lips when you pulled away.

"Just wait 'til we get home, sweetheart." He warned, gazing down at you with those long lashes that brushed against your cheek and tickled your skin.

"Uh-oh, am I in trouble?" You bit your lip playfully.

"Big time."

_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​

[roonyxx]

Upon a Hill: Chapter 6

Summary: What happens when the new hot guy, Dean Winchester, shows interest in you?

Warnings:  smut, shy reader, virgin reader, lanuage, tension, fluff, p in v!

Pairings: high school: Teen!Dean x plus!sized!reader

Wordcount: 2800

My Masterlist

Upon a Hill Masterlist

Part 6

Several days had passed and you and Dean only grew closer to each other.

You went back to school two days after your first date with Dean. He got detention of course, but just one evening, which was not that much considering he did punch Zack in the hospital. 

Your uncle, and apparently many other parents, had called the school to complain about Zack’s unacceptable behavior. The school promised he would never set foot on the property again. 

An immense relief for you.

So here you were, in your room, doubting if you should wear your beanie with your dress or not. You had your second date tonight, he asked you out for real this time. Even asked your uncle if it was okay?!

He said to wear something nice and comfortable.

Your black dress floated to just above your knees. The dress had a little bit of a cleavage, it really made your boobs look nice, but because you don’t like to feel so open, the cleavage part was made of a black sheer. You liked this dress, but you were never confident enough to wear it. Your sleeves were lose and also had some sheer in it.

You finished your cat eye make-up and decided to wear your beanie, you could always take it off later. You pulled on your converses and went down the stairs.

“Oh wow Y/n, you look pretty.” Your uncle said from the couch.

You gave him a sweet smile “Thanks Uncle Joe.” You sat down next to him, fiddling with your hands.

Fuck you were nervous, what if he didn’t like the dress? Maybe you looked foolish. Oh no what if you’re overdressed ?

“Uhm Y/n we have to talk.” your uncle said as he sat up.

“Yeah ?” you turned to him, a little glad to distract your mind.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat “I know that you’re old enough and all, but I also know what that means.”

You frowned, “What what means ?”

He took a deep sigh, “When a boy and a girl like each other they tend to do… activities together…”

“Activiti- OOH, oh no… this isn’t THE talk right ?” uncle Joe was the last person you wanted to talk about that!

“You need to be careful, even if he doesn’t want to use a con-“

You cut him off before it became too awkward “WOAH okay” an awkward chuckle left your mouth as you stood up.

“Please stop, you don’t have to tell me, I know. Please, before you scar me for life.”

He exhaled “Oh God, good. I’m sorry kiddo, I just want you to be careful okay ?”

You nodded, “Don’t worry I always am.” Your eyes widened as he tilted his head, “I-I mean not that I had to be before, I just mean that I’m not stupid! I just am always careful as I am with everything in life.” You were rambling but the doorbell saved you.

“Oh thank god��� Bye Joe!” you rushed to the door to open it and saw Dean Winchester before you, wearing a slightly too big suit and some flowers. He looked so handsome.

“Oh woah Y/n…” he looked you up and down, biting his lip, “You look absolutely gorgeous…”

Your cheeks heated up, “You’re one to say look at you, you’re like a damn model.” you smiled as you saw the blush creep over his face, he looked adorable.

He handed you the flowers. “Thank you De, let me put them in some water and then we can go.”

You took the flowers to the kitchen as Dean waited in your hall.

“Evening Dean.” You heard your uncle say.

“Evening sir.” Dean shook his hand. “Thank you for letting me take Y/n out tonight.”

Your uncle just hummed, “Dean, come with me for a second.” He planted his hand on Dean’s shoulder and walked to the other room with him. Oh no this couldn’t be good. You hid behind the corner to listen in.

“Dean, I like you, really I do. But if you hurt my Y/n… I will hurt you.” You rolled your eyes at his words, it’s really none of his business! And you were about to tell him but his next words stopped you.

“She has been through so much already…” you could hear the sorrow in his voice, he shouldn’t have said that. It’s not his story to tell.

“I won’t sir, I promise.” Dean said.

You cleared your throat and rounded the corner.

“Everything okay here ?” you asked the men.

“Yeah, everything’s good. Have fun kids.” Joe said as Dean stepped towards you and took your hand to lead you out the door and to his car.

“Bye Joe!” you yelled just before you got in.

Dean waved at him as you two drove off. Dean put his hand on your thigh and you slid closer, intertwining your hand with his.

“Where are we going De ?”

“To our spot.” He said with a wide smile. “I arranged something special.”

The butterflies in your stomach were raging. You wondered if he felt it too…

Arriving at your hill you could see little lights lighted the way up.

You sat up, “Oh Dean…”

He opened your door and held his hand out for you. “Come on.”

You took his hand and followed the fairy lights up.

There was a big blanket on the ground and many pillows, it looks so comfortable. He had made some kind of roof with four sticks and a white sheet stretched between them. Fairy lights clung to the structure.

“Dean… did you do all of this ?”

He scratched the back of his head, “Sammy helped a little too.”

Your arms flew around his neck as you crashed your lips onto his.

“You like it ?” he whispered against your lips.

“I love it Dean. Thank you.”

You both sat down in the pillow fort, he reached down behind himself and pulled out a box.

“I brought you some raspberries, I know you love them. I wanted to buy strawberries first but I remember you absolutely hate them.” He chuckled and opened the box, your mouth watered.

“Oh God Dean, you’re the best! Strawberries are way too overrated anyway.”

He also brought some beef jerky, popcorn, twizzlers and some soda.

“This is amazing Dean, when did you do all of this?!”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t that much work, and with Sam’s help it was fixed in no time.”

“Thank you so much, no one’s ever done this for me.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart, you deserve it.” He said as he sweetly pecked your lips.

“Oh I almost forgot, I have  something else for you too.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a little black sachet. You frowned.

“What is it ?”

He handed it to you, “Open up and you’ll see.”

Untying the little string at the top, you reached your fingers in to take it out. It was a thin black rope and attached to it was a golden circle that read ’10 GA – MADE IN U.S.A’ you frowned with a laugh.

“You got me a shotgun shell necklace ?” You liked it.

“Y-yeah I made it, you know, uhm… Winchester as in the gun, shotgun shell… sorry it’s stupid I-“

“What no! Dean, I love it.” You said as you pulled the sting over your head. “You made it, I love it, I really do. Thank you Dean.” You cupped his face and kissed him. “You’re something Winchester, you keep surprising me.”

“Oh do I now ?” a smirk crossed his face as he tackled you to the floor. Hovering over you as he bit his lip. He looked deep into your eyes as he leaned down to kiss you.

Your hand moved up to tunnel your fingers through his hair. Opening your mouth more when you felt him lick at your bottom lip.

Kissing with Dean was like floating on a cloud, your mind went completely blank as you only focused on him, his scent, his taste, his touch.

He moved to lay between your legs, the kiss growing more heated with every passing second.

You couldn’t contain the sounds he pulled from you. Your hips pushing up against his made him groan.

“Dean…”

He licked at your neck, nibbling on your skin. “Yeah sweetheart ?”

“I want you.” You breathed out.

His head snapped up, searching your face. “Are you sure Y/n ? Really I can wait, if you’re not ready.”

You fisted his hair, sucking at his neck. “I’m sure. I want you.”

The smile that crossed his face said it all. You were still nervous but you trusted Dean.

He looked up and around. “Here ?”

Biting your bottom lip you nodded at him, no one came here anyway.

“Okay sweetheart but you’ll have to tell me when it becomes too much okay ?”

“Yes.” You exhaled a shaky breath, he kissed you again.

“Relax baby, I’ll take it slow, I’ll make you feel good.” His lips were mapping out your neck as his hands slowly pushed your dress up. You arched your neck, tugging at his hair in anticipation.

He moved down, kissing up your legs as he pushed your dress higher. Your hands went to his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. Unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed your thighs.

He sat up and took his jacket and shirt off, his freckled chest bare for you.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Dean.” Your hands carefully roamed his chest. As he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down. You swallowed hard, he was big…

He frowned and looked down, “What ?”

“Y-You’re uhm… big.”

“Oh… you think I will fit ?” he asked, a little worried.

You shrugged, how were you supposed to know, you knew your fingers fitted, but that was it.

“Just, take it slow okay ?”

“Of course baby. Can I ?” he tugged at your dress.

You sat up, this was it… your self conscious thoughts resurfacing again. What if he doesn’t like what he sees ? What if it turned him off ? You weren’t like the other girls he dated…

“Hey baby” he could see the wheels turning in your head. “You’re beautiful, you only do what you are comfortable with, okay ?”

You nodded “I want too.”  You pulled on the zipper on the side of your dress to loosen it enough so you could pull it over your head.

You heard Dean gasp, “Y/n fuck…” 

You pulled your head free and saw Dean, his eyes black with lust as he palmed himself through his underwear.

You couldn’t believe the effect you had on him. His eyes raked over your strapless black bra and matching soft cotton panties. If you knew this would happen, you would have worn something a little more sexy.

“You’re… gorgeous…” he bent down to kiss your neck, you could feel how he parted his lips as he rolled his tongue against your soft skin, sucking it in his mouth as he let it pop back. He kissed down your body as you felt his finger dip into your waist band of your panties. Just tracing underneath the edge, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hands feeling his muscles move underneath his skin.

His hand dipped deeper, his middle finger at your entrance as his thumb pushed down on your clit, sending electricity through your body.

“Oh baby…” he groaned “You’re already so wet, is that all for me ?”

You arched your back, rolling your hips so the tip of his finger slid inside you, “Y-yes Dean, p-please.”

He pushed his middle finger in, his mouth forming an ‘o’ at how wet and tight you are.

“F-fuck Y/n, you feel so good, I’m never gonna last.” He chuckled in your ear, biting at your earlobe.

Your nails dig in his skin. “Dean m-more please.” He kissed you neck as he pushed another finger inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. A deep groan leaving your mouth as he slowly started to pump them.

“Like that baby ?” he asked you.

“Y-Yes Dean, f-fuck yes.” You rolled your hips in motion with his moves.

You could feel him smirk against your skin. “Or maybe like this ?”

He curled his fingers, his tips brushing your sweet spot inside you, making you gasp “FUCK”. Your hips jerking up.

“There it is.” He chuckled, his fingers moving faster as his lips met yours in a passionate kiss.

You were panting in his mouth, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, “D-Dean I’m c-close.”

He put his forehead on yours, “Come for me baby.” His thumb pushing a little harder down on your clit is what made the coil inside you snap. Thighs trembling as you clenched around his fingers, moaning his name.

“DEAN YES!”

His movement slowed down, his hand retreating from you to lick his fingers clean. Groaning at your taste.

Panting you lay beneath him, your hand cupping his neck, “Take me Dean. I want you, now.”

You took of the remaining of your clothes as he pushed his underwear down.

You could feel yourself dripping at the sight of him, on your drawing you underestimated his size…

His hands took a hold of his pants, his hands digging in his pockets to pull out a condom.

“Oh you’re prepared.” You remarked.

His cheeks turned red, “I- uhm… I always have it, I mean not that I always have sex, not that I-“

You chuckled, “You’re cute all flustered and rambling. I’m glad you have one.” You bit your lip. His smile returning as he ripped the package open with his teeth.

���C-Can I put it on ?” you asked as you took the rubber ring from him, he nodded.

“Like this, right ?” you weren’t really sure, but if you remember S.E. correct you had to pinch the tip and then roll it down. Fuck he felt good and so big…

“Y-yes like that sweetheart, j-just like that.” His head fell back as you gave him a few pumps.

You scooted closer to him, your legs spreading as you lay on your back. All spread for him.

He wrapped his hand around his hard cock, sliding it through your folds a few times, rubbing your clit in the most delicious way.

“D-Dean please.” You whimpered.

He hovered over you, kissing you as he slowly pushed inside you. Inch by delicious inch.

You felt a burning sensation as he stretched you out. You’re eyes clamping shut, hissing.

He stopped, kissing your jaw, cheeks, nose, forehead to end up on yours lips. “F-Fuck you’re s-so tight… Does it hurt baby ?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah, kinda burns.”

“Do I need to stop ?” he was panting in your neck.

“No! J-just give me a sec.”

He littered you skin with little pecks, his tongue darting down to lick around your nipple. Your hand went to his hair to tug at it. The burn faded turning into a wave of arousal, your walls finally relaxing around him.

“M-move Dean.”

He did as he was told, pushing in all the way, until his pelvis grinded into you.

“Fuuuuck Y/n, you f-feel s-so good. ‘m not gonna last long…”

You wrapped your legs around him, “Mmhh that’s okay baby, please move, take me Dean.”

He pulled all the way out, leaving just his tip in, to push slowly back in. His forehead rested on yours as he kept a slow but deep pace. You could feel every inch, every curve and vein on his cock. Rubbing in all  the right places. He whispered sweet nothings against your lips, telling you how good you felt and how beautiful you are.

You could see when his eyes turned back in his head, felt his hips crushing into yours, heard him groan loud as he spilled himself in the condom. You following him quick into climax, your walls clamping down around him as you groaned with him.

He fell next to you panting “F-fuck Y/n that was…”

“Amazing.” You finished his sentence, laughing.

He turned to you and gave you a kiss that made you dizzy. He parted from you and took the condom off. Quickly ran to the garbage bin at the edge of the hill, you giggled at seeing him running across the field butt-naked.

When he came back he held you in his arm and pulled a blanket over the two of you.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He whispered against your temple.

“I can stay the night.” You said.

“But your uncle ?”

“Oh I texted him, it’s fine Dean, really I can stay.” You stated with a smile.

“Perfect.” he whispered.

Part 7

[your-not-invisible-to-me]

AARON’S MASTERLIST

Hey everybody! My name’s Aaron, and I’m looking forward to getting back into the world of fanfiction. Requests are OPEN. Rules for requests can be found here. 

I write for characters like Matt Murdock, Billy Russo, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Michael Kinsella, and fandoms like Marvel, DC, Shadow and Bone Kin, The Witcher, and more. Send me Requests! Let's see what we can come up with together. 

Please enjoy this master list I’ve put together! Things will be added and updated as time goes on. 

SHADOW AND BONE FICS

My Manhattan

Ship: Aleksander Kirigan x Alina Starkov 

Summary: Recently aged out of an orphanage, Alina Starkov gets her way to school paid for by a mysterious benefactor, under the deal that she must write him a letter once a month to keep him updated. With nothing to call him, she refers to him as Daddy Long Legs after the shadow she sees of him on the wall. 

As school goes on, Alina is whisked away to Manhattan for a day trip with her roommate Genya and Genya’s young uncle, Aleksander. While she finds herself falling for this mysterious man, she’s unaware he’s her mysterious benefactor that is paying for her way to school in the first place. 

AKA, the Daddy Long Legs Darklina AU that no one asked for.

DAREDEVIL FICS 

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Ship: Matt Murdock x Jennifer Walters

Summary: Matt and Jen get to spend some more time together in the morning after defeating Leap Frog

Warnings: talk of body scars, a brief scene of oral sex, making out

We'll Hold Hands Until the Sun Comes Out

Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: After a horrible week of bad luck breaking you down, Matt is ready to be there and pick up the pieces.

That Beautiful Sound 

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Nelson Reader 

Summary: You and Foggy go to see Beetlejuice: The Musical on Broadway, but neglect to tell Matt. 

Wax Strips

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader 

Summary: Matt prides himself on his memory until he forgets to take the trash out, causing you to learn a new secret. 

Warnings: mentions of toxic ex, insecurities, mentions of body hair/waxing 

SUPERNATURAL FICS

The Imaginary Friend

Ship: Chuck Shurley x Original Female Character 

Summary: Ranger Winchester has spent her whole life immersed in the world of monsters, so the last thing she questions is being able to talk to a voice in her head. What happens when Ranger, Sam, and Dean are on a case, and she meets the owner of the voice she’s heard all her life?

As of 2022, this fic is discontinued. That being said, never say never!

Attack Mode

Ship: Chuck Shurley x F!Reader 

Summary: The double date your friend set you up on with her seemed like a bust until the adorably shy writer walked through the door. While you normally didn’t like nervous guys, you couldn’t help but turn on attack mode.

Awkward Flutters

Ship: Castiel x F!Reader 

Summary: Castiel accidentally flutters into your bathroom as you’re trying to deal with... lady issues. 

REAL PERSON FANFIC

Includes Rob Benedict, Billy Moran, Richard Speight, Jr. 

Strung Out Photographs 

Ship: Billy Moran x Deaf Original Female Character 

Summary: Carver Benedict has been estranged from her brother Rob for a long time. After taking a job with the convention company he does appearances for, the last thing she expects is to fall for his best friend.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

As of 2022, this fic is discontinued. That being said, never say never! 

Guitar Pics

Ship: Rob Benedict x Richard Speight, Jr. 

Summary: Richard helps his boyfriend through a panic attack Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | 

Warnings: Talks of Depression, Panic Attacks 

They’re Better Than You Are 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: You met your husband Rob after you were cast as Megatron on Supernatural. After years together, the two of you had hit a rough spot, and you’re afraid divorce is coming. It isn’t until the two of you start filming “Don’t Call Me Shurley” that you are able to get your real feelings out.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | 

Warnings: Accusations of cheating 

Moments 

Ship: Rob Benedict x Reader 

Summary: An actress on Supernatural, you and Rob are in a relationship, and recently you had revealed to him that you had been sexually assaulted in the past, and it was why you were so adraid to be intimate. But as a songwriter, another secret gets let out.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | 

Warnings: Talk to sexual assualt, depression 

Piece By Piece

Ship: Rob Benedict x Teenage F!Reader 

Summary: After being kicked out of your house by your parents, your co-star shows you what a true parent really looks like.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse, depression 

The Past 

Ship: Rob Benedict F!Reader 

Summary: After seeing your abusive ex-boyfriend in public, you have Rob take you back home. You finally tell him the truth. 

Warnings: Mentions of abuse 

Shoving into Closets 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: You’re an actor on SPN, and Matt Cohen is tired of you and Rob not acting on your feelings. He shoves you both in a closet until you figure your stuff out. 

When it’s Time 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: When words fail you, you use song to get your true feelings out to Rob. 

The Morning After 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: You lose your virginity to Rob, and he wants to make sure you know how much you mean to him. 

A Well Needed Surprise 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: You and Rob had been apart for more than two weeks, so you decide to surprise him at a convention. 

Better Than Willow 

Ship: Rob Benedict x F!Reader 

Summary: It takes an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for you and Rob to realize what you’d been holding back. 

Know that I Love You 

Ship: Teenage!Rob Benedict x Teenage!Richard Speight, Jr. 

Summary: Rob gets insecure after a game of Truth or Dare. Rich is there to make sure he knows he’s loved. 

Warnings: Depression

Not Anymore 

Ship: Teenage!Rob Benedict x Teenage!Richard Speight, Jr. 

Summary: Rich is there for his boyfriend after coming out to his dad doesn’t go as planned. 

Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse, depression, self-harm 

THE WALKING DEAD FICS

Handle the Baseball Player

Ship: Negan x Becca

Summary: The last place Becca expected to see her husband was as the leader of her group's likely death. 

[mishacollinsthighsss]

For drabble/short fic: Dean overthinking (maybe even while talking to Cas) Balthazar's line from 6x17 "[...] the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you"

Anon I love you, this had me RUNNING 😂 its short, but I think it's cute, and it's kinda awkward, I hope you like it 💙

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Words: ~900

Awkward fluff

Unbeta'd

Sorry, you have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you.

The words spun around in Dean's brain, it was all he could think about. At first, he'd just rolled his eyes and had tried to forget about it, but the longer he'd waited, the more prominent Balthazar's words had gotten.

"Dean?" 

"Huh?" Dean's gaze snapped up from the book in front of him and he looked at Cas, who was staring at him with a confused expression.

"Have you listened to anything I just said?" Cas asked, and Dean could feel his face turning hot.

"Sure, uh… dead person, lake…" 

They were in the middle of working a case, and Dean knew he should focus, but whenever it got quiet, his brain jumped back to those words. What did they even mean? There was no way that Cas, a freaking angel of the lord, was in love with him. Not romantically, at least.

"... and the witness said that he acted strange before. Maybe he was possessed?" 

Dean swallowed, internally punching himself for being so distracted, but he just nodded and hoped Cas wouldn't look right through him. He'd get the details from Sam later anyway.

"Is there anything wrong?" Cas asked all of a sudden, squinting and watching Dean closely, but Dean shook his head quickly.

"Nah, nothing wrong, everything's peachy. Just peachy. Go on, I'm listening," Dean muttered, even though he knew it was a lie. 

"If you say so. The most confusing thing is, even though the victim was found dead in the water, there was no dirt on him. Not on his clothes, not on his skin, not anywhere."

Dirt. Dirty. Dirty trenchcoat. God, what the hell had Balthazar been talking about? Cas was the most blunt person ever, so surely he would've said something, right? If he was in love with Dean, he'd just blurt it out, like always. But he hadn't said anything, so it couldn't be true… could it?

"Are you in love with me?" Dean blurted out before he could stop himself, interrupting Cas, who was just trying to save people, again. Shit, he was so stupid.

Castiel's eyes widened for a split second, at least Dean thought so, but then he squinted.

"I don't see how this is relevant for the case, Dean," he answered, his voice completely calm, but Dean could've sworn he saw a faint blush coloring the angel's cheeks.

"Yeah, uh… sorry man, just… yeah, it's not. But uh… are you? Y'know. In love. With… me."

Way to go Dean, he thought as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew that he'd had a crush on the guy since the moment they'd met, but he hadn't dared to even -

"Dean, people are dying."

Right.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry," Dean said, before a deep sigh escaped him. He probably wouldn't get an answer, which wasn't disappointing at all, nope. But… what if?

"But -"

"Yes."

Dean blinked.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"So, you're…?" Dean was sure his brain had stopped working completely somewhere along the way.

"Yes, I am in love with you. Are you able to focus now?" Cas asked, his face completely neutral as always, but there was something in his eyes, something that told Dean the angel was just as nervous.

"Sure, yeah, focus, case. Got it."

Dean was able to focus for a total of three seconds.

"Okay, but… you're serious?" he interrupted Cas once again and Cas sighed, while he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He'd picked up on so many human things already, it was adorable.

"Yes, I'm serious. Are you done?"

As Castiel opened his eyes again their gazes locked, and Dean swallowed thickly. All or nothing, right?

"Actually, no. So… this love thing, is it - is it… romantic?" he stammered, his cheeks burning, but he didn't break eye contact. In fact, he couldn't, he was too mesmerized by the ocean of blue in front of him.

"Yes."

Oh. 

"Oh," Dean choked out and lowered his gaze, his hands balling into fists on the table.

"I don't understand why this is something you need to know," Cas said, and his voice sounded different all of a sudden. Almost a little sad. 

"I just… have to, alright?" Dean pressed out between clenched teeth, his heart doing flip-flops in his chest.

"Alright," Cas said, letting out another sigh, but before he could continue with the case, Dean opened his mouth again. 

"It's just… me too. I think. Maybe. Dunno."

Now Castiel's head snapped up and he stared at Dean with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted, and God, Dean wanted to kiss him.

"You mean, you're…?" Cas couldn't finish the sentence either, just like Dean earlier, which made the hunter chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah I think so," he breathed, and suddenly the tension that had been in the room the whole time disappeared, and they both grinned at each other. 

"That's… a surprise," Cas muttered, his cheeks flushing, and Dean laughed.

"Yeah," he answered, while he tried to get some air into his lungs. Maybe it was a good thing that he'd asked, after all. 

"What do we - I mean how - "

"We're gonna talk, I guess. Later. Promise. I think we gotta finish a case first," Dean interrupted, and finally, the tension in Castiel's shoulders disappeared as well and he gave Dean a grateful smile.

This time when he started talking about the victim again, Dean was able to actually listen.

[helaintoloki]

Everybody Loves Somebody

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight language, themes of insecurity, angst, pining, slow burn (kinda?), eventual fluff, over 5k words in length

notes: it’s finally finished! this took forever but I swear I put my entire soul into making this as perfect as it could be. I’ve never used this format before in my writing and it was challenging but also super fun so hopefully you guys like it :) (also yes the title and the fic somewhat is inspired by the Dean Martin song)

summary: Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.

Sunday

Three quick raps on the apartment door force Bucky to kick back the covers and sluggishly rise from his spot on the floor. He’s exhausted, but his recognition of the evenly spaced knocks on the wooden frame has him feeling compelled to answer, and so he does. Too tired to notice the television is still droning on in the background, Bucky idly wraps his discarded blanket around his form to shield his vibranium arm before opening the door to greet the old man standing on the other side.

“Rough night, huh?” Yori greets with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” he replies with a tired, lopsided grin. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I set you up on a date,” the man says casually, as if setting Bucky up on dates without his knowledge and against his will is a common every day occurrence, and it is. “Saturday evening at six.”

“What— A date? Yori—“

“She’s a nice girl, very pretty. I think you’ll like her.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Bucky tries to interject, but Yori is already halfway down the hall before the super soldier can get another word in.

“You’re meeting her at the Italian place down the street!” Yori calls behind him. “She likes sunflowers!”

The old man’s shouts are sure to have woken up the entire fourth floor by now, but Bucky is too busy trying to process the jumble of information that has been thrust upon him so suddenly and so early in the morning to care. The last date Yori had sent him on had ended in disaster; Bucky wasn’t ready to get back out on the field, a stable relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. Surely no one in their right mind would stick around once they found out the truth about the man, and if they did it would only be a matter of time before the constant nightmares and extra baggage that came with dating the ex-Hydra assassin sent them running for the hills. But Yori meant well, Bucky knew that, and he also knew he owed the man more than he could ever give him in return, so if sitting through another painfully uncomfortable date would make him happy, then Bucky would just have to suck it up, put on the nicest shirt he owned, and charm his way through another awkward dinner.

“Sunflowers,” he grumbles to himself, quietly shutting the door before returning to his spot on the cold hardwood floor.

Monday

Monday mornings are gym mornings, early workouts that start at five and end at seven. He promptly returns to the apartment building at seven thirty, eight if he stops for breakfast, then goes to check the mail before heading back to the comfort of his sheltered apartment. He doesn’t receive much other than grocery coupons and an odd letter from the government every now and then, but he’s been told that a routine is good, it’s healthy, so on Monday mornings at seven thirty—or eight— Bucky pulls out his keys and opens his assigned metal box with a sense of indifference.

It’s eight o’clock on this particular morning, and with a half finished cup of coffee in hand the soldier opens the little metal compartment to find nothing other than stray specks of dust and the tiniest of spiderwebs in the top right corner of the box. It’s a familiar sight, but Bucky has learned not to let it bother him by now. Remember James, it has nothing to do with you, his therapist always said. You have to learn not to take things personally.

“It has nothing to do with me,” Bucky murmurs quietly before finally shutting his mailbox with a sigh. Coffee cup discarded in the nearby trash can, Bucky turns to make his trek towards the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of a beautifully familiar face.

Your name is y/n, you live on the fourth floor, and for someone reason you’re always covered in glitter. You’re on your way out the door, art supplies held clumsily in your grasp just begging to jump free from your hold, and despite the rush you seem to be in you still greet the man with a polite smile.

“Good morning,” you chime, honey coated voice filled with warmth and kindness for the stranger. Bucky simply gives you a halfhearted smile in return, watching you walk out the door and wishing he could just muster up the courage to speak to you.

You won the soldier’s heart the day you knocked on his door to drop off a “welcome to the neighborhood” casserole. It had only been his second day in his new apartment, and while he knew some of the other tenants were weary of the mysterious man with the thousand yard stare who had decided to call the building a home, you never once seemed to bat an eye at Bucky or his closed off nature. He had been a little short with you upon your first meeting, his anxiety coming off as annoyance, but still you wore that same kind smile of yours and assured him that if he ever needed anything you’d be happy to help. You were a kind person with a big heart, and Bucky didn’t want to chance snuffing out one of the few lights left in the world, so he let you be. Admiring you from afar was all he let himself have of you, and that was it.

Though, Bucky would be lying if he said you didn’t come across his mind every once in a while. He wondered what you were like, what music you listened to, how you liked your eggs in the morning, if you were an old soul or young at heart, if you’d ever let yourself fall into in the arms of a broken man and help pick up the pieces. It was a pipe dream, but sometimes a friendly smile from you in the morning was enough to get Bucky through an entire day. He hadn’t been with anyone in years, and while he didn’t think he was ready to get back out on the dating scene just yet he knew that if you asked him to he’d take the plunge in a heartbeat. You were an angel, and Bucky would never be able to bring himself to taint you with his touch.

Monday mornings are workout mornings, but they’re also mornings with you.

Tuesday

On Tuesday afternoons Bucky often finds himself in the company of Yori, ensuring the old man stays out of trouble and going out of his way to make sure his newest friend has a nice day out on the town. It isn’t much, and it never will be, but it’s enough for now, at least until Bucky can find the courage to tell the father just what exactly happened to his son on that fateful night. But until then, sushi for lunch will have to do.

He makes his usual trek to the man’s apartment, stomach already beginning to rumble at the prospect of a nice crunch roll, but Bucky’s hunger is soon replaced with nerves at the sight of the woman standing in Yori’s doorway.

You look pretty today, hair haphazardly styled in your rush out the door this morning, colorful stains of dry paint adoring your hands that clutch a bundle of books close to your chest, and a dangly pair of earrings that glint underneath the sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. There’s a smile on your face as you nod along to something Yori says that doesn’t quite register in the soldier’s jumbled thoughts, and the two of you are both too engrossed to notice his lingering presence standing just a few feet away.

“Thank you so much for lending me these. The kids keep me on my toes and I haven’t had any time to settle down with a good book so these were perfect,” you utter gratefully, handing off the pile of poetry books to Yori’s awaiting hands. Names of authors that Bucky doesn’t recognize catch his eye, just as his friend finally catches his presence.

“Of course. I have more if you’re ever interested,” he says before finally addressing the elephant in the hallway. “James, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”

Bucky stiffens at the sound of his name, heat immediately crawling up his neck as you turn to him with a friendly smile. Clearing his throat, he steps forward and musters up a meager grin in return.

“Like I’d ever miss Tuesday lunch,” he jokes, a nervous chuckle falling past his lips.

“I guess I better get going. Thank you again, Yori,” you chime with a grateful smile. Then, with your attention turned to Bucky, “Have a nice lunch, James.”

“Thank you...” he trails quietly, mentally kicking himself for his stiff demeanor and wishing he could be less pathetic in your presence just once. Just once and he’d die a happy man.

You leave with a polite smile, turning down the hallway and out of Bucky’s grasp once again. Yori elbows his side.

“She’s single, you know.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Bucky replies with a wry chuckle. “You have me set up with one girl already.”

“Right,” Yori notes thoughtfully with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite decipher. “I think you’re going to have a nice time on your date.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says in reply, your smile the only thing on his mind as the two men head out for the day.

Wednesday

Bucky has grown to love rainy days, days in which he can remain tucked away in the warmth and comfort of his own home with a relaxing mug of hot chocolate in one hand and some piece of pop culture media he has yet to catch up with in the other. Today’s pick is a book titled The Outsiders, and Bucky chooses to sit upon the windowsill to read the novel.

Gentle drops of rain trail down the glass window, pattering soothingly in a way that makes Bucky fear he may fall asleep. He sets the book aside with a tired sigh and glances out the window with his warm cheek pressed against the cool surface; the city is quiet and the streets nearly empty, and this makes it easier to spot you.

It’s almost as if you’ve been popping up out of nowhere lately, but Bucky never seems to mind. Watch from afar, that was the deal he made with himself, so who was he to complain if you made the task easier for him? He could never have you the way he wanted to because he doubted you’d ever want an unstable old man like him, and even if you did he’d be no good for you. He knew girls like you back in his day, girls with stars in their eyes and hearts on their sleeves, girls who’d melt in his arms whenever he so much as smiled at them. And yet you weren’t like any girl he’d ever seen; you were an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity deciphering the mystery of you. But he couldn’t, because he shouldn’t, so he didn’t.

Despite the gloomy gray skies hanging above you there’s a serene smile on your face as you stop to admire the pots of sunflowers outside the building, reminding Bucky he has to buy some for his date on Saturday. God, he was dreading it. Bucky was sure whatever girl Yori picked for him would be nice enough, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wish it were you he’d be taking out for a night on the town. A guy can dream, right?

You retreat into a nearby coffee shop when the rain begins to fall harder, and as Bucky turns to his own warm drink he finds that the mug is now cold. Book discarded, he rises from his spot on the windowsill and drowsily drags himself into the kitchen for another cup.

For a moment he thinks sunflowers might surely bring about his demise, and the passing thought brings the smallest of smiles to his face. Only time will tell.

Thursday

“How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?”

The woman stares at him expectantly, pristine notepad resting casually in her lap, pen in hand as a warning, eyebrows raised at the man as he stares down contemplatively at the stitching of his leather gloves. What should be a comforting environment instead only seems to put him on edge, and as the seconds tick by on the clock hung crookedly above the doorway her pen only seems to get closer to the blank page below her. Shoulders sagging, Bucky can only offer a small sigh in response.

“I can’t say I feel too great about it,” he finally says, the tension in his shoulders alleviating slightly as she finally puts the pen down.

“And why’s that?” Doctor Raynor prods curiously.

“I just don’t really think I’m all that ready for a relationship. What person wants to be with someone as screwed up as me?”

“The right person will,” Christina comforts. Your smiling face flashes briefly in his mind in response and he shifts in discomfort— the doctor notices. “But I don’t think you’re telling me the full story here, James. I suspect there’s something else that’s holding you back. Or maybe someone.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bucky retorts with a wry smile.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Her name’s y/n,” he says, your name falling past his lips in the softest tone Dr. Raynor has ever heard from him before. “I don’t know her all that well, but she lives in my apartment building so I see her around a lot. She’s... she’s really pretty.”

“Well, what is it about y/n that you like?”

Geez, where do I even begin?

“I don’t know,” Bucky shrugs, picking absently at a loose seam on the end of his shirt, “I guess I like how friendly she is. Every time I see her she’s always smiling, she always says good morning to everyone and lends a hand wherever she can. It’s like she goes out of her way to be nice to me, and I’m not really used to that but it’s a nice feeling. The first time I met her she never even flinched, she wasn’t scared like other people usually are, and even when I blew her off she still made it clear that I was welcome and if I needed a friend she’d be there. That’s the kind of person she is.”

“Did you take her up on that offer?” The woman asks, but by the look on her face Bucky is sure she already knows the answer.

“No...”

“James, we’ve talked about this,” Christina says firmly, “you have to stop closing yourself off from the people around you. Making a friend could really help you, especially if this girl is truly as nice as you say she is.”

“She is,” he reiterates firmly, “and that’s why I can’t be her friend.”

The doctor’s brows furrow with piqued interest at his admission, legs shifting underneath her as she gets comfortable in preparation for what will most likely be a heavy confession. “Can you elaborate for me?” She says. Bucky sighs.

“After everything that’s happened, and everything the world has been through, it just gets harder and harder to find some sort of light in the dark. So when you finally do find it, it’s like you have to do everything in your power to make sure it never goes out.”

“So y/n is a light?” Raynor reaffirms.

“For so many people,” Bucky nods, “and if I try to put myself in the picture I’ll only bring her down. There’s no future with me, and she deserves better than that.”

“How do you know that if you never put yourself out there?” The doctor asks softly, silently stunned by the heavy confession Bucky has entrusted her with; it’s the most he’s ever opened up before.

Pieces of the past dart through his mind, and in the midst of all the heartache and the chaos he sees Yori, the one friendship he’s been able to successfully maintain since his period of healing. The memory of the man is pleasant for a moment, until Bucky is reminded of the basis of their friendship and how one single confession will tear down everything they’ve built together. It doesn’t matter what kind of man he is now or how much control he has over his own life, the Winter Soldier will always have the final say, and nothing will ever change that. Finally, he speaks.

“I just do.”

Friday

“Crap.”

The softly uttered curse sounds from across the hallway and alerts Bucky of his struggling neighbor’s presence. Purse slipping off your shoulder and heavy groceries spilling from your arms, you struggle to maneuver your key into the lock of your front door all while the heat of embarrassment engulfs your body in a suffocating hold. You’re not as put together as you usually are, your belongings in disarray and eyes full of exhaustion rivaling that of his own, your usually meticulously picked clothing replaced by joggers and an old college sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big on you, and yet Bucky still finds himself frozen in your presence.

Don’t just stand there, help her you idiot, his mind screams at him, the soldier harshly swallowing down his nerves before taking shaky steps towards you. An orange slips out of the brown paper bag and rolls towards his feet, and Bucky takes it as his in into a conversation.

“Need some help?” He asks with a crooked smile, one that softens at the look of distress clear in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe out before offering a meager smile of your own. “Some help would be great, thank you.”

Bucky takes the heavier bags of groceries from your aching arms and returns the orange to its rightful place, allowing you the chance to take your keys and unlock the door. You don’t spare him another glance as you walk in, leaving it open as a silent invitation for him to let himself in. Bucky swallows nervously but wordlessly follows behind; he’s never been in a woman’s apartment before, and the fact that it’s yours makes the experience all the more nerve wracking.

Your apartment is small but personalized, decorated with little knickknacks and houseplants and old family portraits that Bucky does his best not to stare at in fear of being rude, and the vanilla scented candle that burns on the coffee table makes him feel all the more welcome. You drop your purse by the couch with a tired sigh before directing your attention to the man who stands awkwardly in your living room. His hulking figure makes your apartment seem tiny, oddly comforting in a way, but you hold back your giggles and merely guide him to your kitchen.

“You can set them on the counter,” you say with a passive wave before reaching into one of the cabinets for a glass cup. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you,” the man says politely as he settles the heavy bags down on the marble surface; as much as he’d like to sit and spend the evening with you, he can’t stay long, or more like he won’t allow himself to stay long. Your movements are clumsy as you down your glass of water, and Bucky looks away flustered as little droplets begin to escape the corners of your lips and dribble down your neck. “I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but are you alright? You seem a bit... flustered.”

“Is it that obvious?” You joke quietly, your smile barely reaching your eyes as you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky begins to say in fear of overstepping, but you merely shake your head in response.

“I’m just a little stressed out. The kids always keep me on my toes, especially now that there’s more of them, and it’s been hard trying to get some of them to readjust.”

“Kids?” He repeats with furrowed brows. He can’t recall ever seeing you with any children, and there’s no sign of any living with you in your apartment. A genuine laugh leaves your lips this time at his response and Bucky tenses uncomfortably. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” you explain with a smile, and everything clicks in Bucky’s mind then. That would explain the constant paint stains and trails of glitter left in your wake, the arts and crafts supplies and stacks of drawings you seem to carry with you everywhere. And here he thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger than it already was— were you even real?

“The effects of the blip have been really difficult for them. It’s hard having to come back to school and see that all your old friends are now five grades ahead of you. I know everyone has been impacted in some way by what happened, but it’s harder for the younger ones to understand. I’m doing my best to make the transition back to normalcy easier for them, but some days are harder than others, you know?”

“Sounds rough,” is all Bucky can manage to say, swallowing his emotions back harshly.

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly, rubbing away the clear exhaustion in your eyes, “but I’m trying my best.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

You smile then, a genuine smile, one that makes Bucky weak in the knees, and suddenly it’s as if all the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“I really needed to hear that,” you utter softly, “thank you.”

“What are neighbors for?” Bucky jokes lamely, but you must like his sense of humor for you let out the quietest of giggles.

“You’re sweet. I like talking with you, but I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

“Not really,” he shrugs with a crooked smile, “I just had some errands to run before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask curiously, brows raising with interest as Bucky awkwardly looks down at your hardwood floor.

“I’ve got a date.”

“Huh, no kidding. Me too,” you smile, and in response Bucky’s heart slowly begins to sink to his stomach. Yori had said you were single, but only an idiot would believe that someone like you could stay that way for long. Maybe if he had taken the doctor’s advice sooner he could be the one you’re seeing instead of the lucky guy that beat him to it.

“I should get going... I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you again for the help, and good luck on your date,” you say with an encouraging smile. Bucky swallows harshly in response, a look of longing in his eyes that he hides well with a meager quirk of his lips.

“You too,” he murmurs in response, casting you once last glance before showing himself out. The lock clicks behind him, and Bucky trudges back to his own empty apartment.

Saturday

The dining patio of the Italian restaurant is pleasantly empty, but the quiet stillness does little to help soothe Bucky’s nerves as he waits for the arrival of his date. He probably should have asked Yori what she looked like, what her name was and what she’d be wearing so he’d know what to expect, but the old man had been adamant on keeping the identity of his date a surprise.

“It’ll be better that way,” he had said, “trust me.”

The bouquet of sunflowers sits before him on the table almost tauntingly, their bright colors and sweet scent sending his senses into overdrive. He almost resented them, but then he thought of your smiling face through the window and the tension from his shoulders began to dissipate— if you could be strong and put on a brave face despite all the bad things that had happened in the world, then so could he.

“James?” A meek voice calls quietly, pulling the man from his thoughts. His blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the woman standing before him and he swallows anxiously.

“Y/n?” Bucky replies, quickly rising from his seat and cringing at the way in which the legs of the chair scrape harshly across the floor with his sudden movements. Here he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and here you were proving him wrong with your cute little outfit and styled hair and charming smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my date,” you explain with a sheepish smile. Bucky deflates— not only would he have to suffer through his own painfully awkward date, but he’d also have to sit and watch you get swept off your feet by someone else all in the same night.

“Oh... well, who’s the lucky guy?”

“That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh, “I think you are.”

“Me?” Bucky repeats flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Yori was the one who said I should try dating again. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time with other adults since I’m always with my students, and when I said I didn’t really know anyone he told me he’d take care of it for me. All he told me was to come to this restaurant Saturday at six and look for the man with sunflowers,” you summarize before gesturing to the bouquet on the table, “and you’re the only one here with sunflowers so...”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Bucky then at the realization, and he isn’t sure whether he should jump for joy or wait for the ground below to swallow him whole. Finally he had a chance to spend time with the girl who had taken over his thoughts and occupied every available space in his heart, and yet he couldn’t help but feel terrified. A date was a big step up from neighborly conversation in your apartment, and all of Bucky’s hopes of developing something more with you were riding on this one date. Yori knew exactly what he was doing by setting the two of you up, and Bucky had no choice but to be grateful for the man who had bestowed upon him the chance to finally win you over.

“If this is too awkward for you we can just skip this whole date—“

“No, it’s not awkward at all,” Bucky is quick to interject. “I mean, this whole thing is certainly a surprise but it’s a good one. It’s an honor to be your blind date.”

He flashes a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, and he knows then that he’s back in the game— who would have guessed he’d be able to dust off his old moves with such ease? He had to if he wanted any kind of chance at winning you over.

“In that case, why don’t we get out of here? This restaurant is a little stuffy,” you note with a small chuckle, your nerves slowly beginning to dwindle.

“Alright, what do you have in mind?”

The nightlife atmosphere of the plaza square is surprisingly much more comfortable compared to the dining patio, and Bucky considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to witness firsthand the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the light of the starry sky. A nighttime stroll is right up Bucky’s alley, and you both fall into a comfortable step as you talk about whatever topic seems to come to mind. You speak of your students, about how much their smiling little faces have helped you get through the toughest times, how there’s a stray cat who calls the dumpsters behind your apartment building a home and waits for your arrival on trash days because you always bring the feline a special treat. Alpine, you had named it, and Bucky adored that greatly.

The details are vague but you enjoy the stories he tells you of his childhood and the way his whole face seems to light up at the mere mention of his mother and sister; that look dwindles slightly when he speaks of his old best friend, but you pretend not to notice. As a younger man Bucky worked at the docks before serving time in the army, though he fails to mention where he’d been stationed, and now he works for the government. You feel almost giddy to be learning so much about the man you once believed would rather prefer solitude over your company, and as the night drags on and the conversation begins to dwindle you almost wish you could reverse the clock and do it all over again.

“Thank you,” Bucky says after a moment of silence, prompting you to halt your steps and raise a brow curiously at your counterpart.

"What for?"

“Taking a chance on a guy like me,” he smiles faintly while offering you a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t really done anything like this in a while, and the idea of putting myself back out there scared me shitless, but you just make things so much easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is when I’m with you everything comes naturally, and I really appreciate that.”

“Oh,” you utter softly, a sheepish smile of your own gracing your lips as you turn away to admire the scenery around you. It isn’t until now that you notice you’ve stopped before the fountain, the arches of water flowing overhead illuminated by the fluorescent lights below them. A nervous fluttering occupies your stomach and when you finally meet Bucky’s gaze you feel as if nothing else in the entire world mattress other than the two of you in this moment. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of in the same boat, so that just means we can figure this out as we go. Together.”

“I like that,” Bucky affirms with a nod, a look that can only be described as lovestruck taking over his features. Nerves overcome you then as you clutch your bouquet of flowers to your chest, heart thrumming rapidly in your rib cage as Bucky steps closer. The glove that had once shielded his right hand from the cold is now missing as he gently cups your cheek and encompasses you with his warmth. His palm is calloused and rough but comforting all the same, and it takes everything in your power not to melt like putty in his grasp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs quietly as if raising his voice any higher will ruin the moment.

“Yeah,” you breathe shakily, swallowing back your nerves, “it’s okay.”

Your softly uttered words of confirmation are all Bucky needs to hear before dipping down and gently brushing his lips against your own. His movements are hesitant for only a moment, and it is only once he’s sure you are comfortable and secure that he moves in for more. Your lips are soft against his own, plush and warm and so sweet, and as your eyes begin to flutter shut and the forgotten sunflowers slip out of your grasp you drape your arms securely across his shoulders at the same moment in which his left hand joins his right in cupping your face as if you were a precious jewel in need of the upmost care.

Nothing exists when you are in each other’s arms, you are safe and sound in your own little world, and as you part to take a breath Bucky realizes then that one kiss is all he needs to know that you are the one he’s been waiting for all his life.

And by god, if you aren’t more than worth the wait.

[lxngbottom]

Wow. | N.L.

in which the reader is given a dare, and she definitely won’t turn it down.

warnings: a little bit of nsfw, swearing, underage drinking.

word count: 1,642

idek i project all my crazy personal experiences onto my one shots sorry babes

—

the night was supposed to be fun. you were supposed to go the the gryffindor party, get drunk, dance all over your friends, and go back to your dorm. but that all changed when seamus finnigan got involved,

“longbottom has never seen a pair of boobs before! isn’t that right?” seamus smirked, looking over at his awkward friend.

neville huffed, “why did you have to say that out loud?”

seamus, dean, harry, & ron all laughed at the boy’s embarrassment. but they couldn’t laugh too much, knowing full well that they themselves had never seen a pair of boobs before either.

“you want to see a pair tonight, longbottom?” seamus asked him, that dumb smirk still plastered onto his face. neville absolutely hated when seamus got drunk. he seemed to totally forget to concept of boundaries and a filter,

“i really don’t—“

“i got the perfect candidate, too!” seamus interrupted, his speech slurred from all the affects of the alcohol. “look,” he pointed over towards y/n y/l/n. she giggled at something her friend said, and seamus’s smirk only got wider as he witnessed neville staring at you with nothing but pure adoration.

“do you know how many guys at hogwarts have seen her boobs? last time i checked, she had sex with like... four or five guys!”

this talk was quite common when your name came up in a conversation. you had hooked up with quite a few guys, and you regretted it greatly. you never knew how quick things could get around at hogwarts until a group of hufflepuff girls were yelling terrible and vile names at you two days after you had lost your virginity.

according to the general consensus at hogwarts, you were a slag.

but your true friends would say otherwise, and they were right. it didn’t matter how many guys you had slept with, you were still a person, and you deserved just as much as respect as everyone else did.

neville longbottom didn’t see you as that, though. he had talked to you quite a few times, even developed a small crush on you. but, he knew he never had a chance. out of all the guys that chased you, he knew you would never pick him.

“those are just rumors.” neville quickly retorted, shooting down what seamus had said. “don’t say things like that about her... it’s not true.”

the boys laughed once more, “oh don’t worry, longbottom. i’m not calling your little crush a slag, i’m just simply stating what i’ve heard.” seamus patted neville’s shoulder, “but, enough of all that. i have an idea that is going to benefit you, longbottom.”

neville furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what—“

“just watch.”

before neville could even stop him, seamus was making his way over towards you. neville tried his best to protest, but ron held him back.

“merlin, what in the bloody hell is he even doing?” neville asked nervously, running his hand through his hair. his friends didn’t respond, only looked on to the conversation between you and seamus.

after a few minutes, which seemed like hours to neville, seamus begin to walk back, but you followed right behind him.

“hi, guys!” you greeted the boys sweetly, waving your hand a bit. “seamus gave me a dare, and i’m here to follow through with it.”

“what was the dare?” dean asked you, taking a sip of his drink. you grinned a bit, and your eyes found neville’s.

you suddenly held your hand out right in front of neville, ignoring dean’s question. he had a very confused look on his face as you waited for him to take your hand. “come on, longbottom. i don’t have all night.”

“yeah, come on, longbottom! she doesn’t have all night...” seamus whispered into his ear, and he laughed as he pulled away.

neville had no idea what his friend was up to, but he couldn’t ignore the sweet smile on your face, and the way you stood patiently for him. from what he could tell from knowing who you were for so long, seeing you in shared classes, you had always been a patient person. you sat hand in foot for people if they needed time for something, and that was something neville definitely was not used to.

he shakily took your hand, and you started to walk him towards the stairs that led to the boy’s dormitory. you heard whistles and cheers erupting from his friends, but ignored them, as that was just the way boys were.

“show me where your dorm is,” you requested, and he reluctantly nodded.

he was terrified of what seamus might’ve said to you. his intoxicated self could’ve out right told you that neville had the biggest crush on you, and neville promised himself that if that was the case, he wouldn’t speak to seamus ever again.

when you two arrived into his dorm, he awkwardly sat down on his own bed as you stepped a few feet in front of him. no words were spoken as you started the dare by unbuttoning your shirt.

“whoa, whoa, what are you doing?!” neville quickly asked, and you stopped. you raised an eyebrow at him,

“the dare that seamus asked me about. he said you knew about it,” you informed him, and neville scoffed. “you don’t know about it, do you?”

neville shook his head, “what exactly is the dare?”

you stayed silent for a moment, embarrassed and caught up in your next choice of words, “well... he sorta dared me to... show you my boobs. he said you never saw any before, and that you wanted to really bad.”

neville’s jaw was practically on the floor. he couldn’t believe that seamus had lied. but now, he was stuck in the most awkward position he possibly could’ve ever been in.

“i didn’t—i—oh, merlin...”

your eyebrows furrowed, as neville seemed more stressed than excited about the dare. you had never seen a boy look so miserable to see a pair of boobs in your whole life.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned for the boy who’s face was now hiding in the palms of his hands. he was a bit taken back to here you ask that, as no one had asked him that question in a very long time. and, when he finally did look up at you, you seemed worried.

he didn’t want you to worry over him, though. so he quickly shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “oh, nothing. it’s—it’s nothing. i’m alright.”

you nodded, but still didn’t take it as the truth.

“well... do you want to still see them, or...?”

in that moment, a desire clicked within neville. he was still angry at seamus, and the predicament he was stuck in with you, but he couldn’t ignore the burning sensation in his gut when you had asked him that.

but, he knew it was wrong. “yes—i mean—no! no, i do not want to see your boobs!”

you chuckled quietly at his words, and the way he was seemingly trying to convince himself more than you that he “didn’t” want to see your boobs.

“well, alright then. that’s cool...”

you then sat right next to him on his bed, letting out a soft breath of air. he looked over at you, clearly still embarrassed from this whole ordeal.

“it’s okay if you wanted to, you know? and also, it’s okay that you’ve never seen them before, either. seeing them or not doesn’t make you more or less of a man, longbottom. i hope you know that.”

your words didn’t come from a place of pity, but from a place of worry. neville was the complete opposite of you, inexperienced, nervous. and that was fine in your eyes, but you could tell he thought the complete opposite.

“seamus is an arse for putting both of us on the spot like this.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

there was a beat of silence before neville finally responded, “he is. a big one.”

the response made you look over at him, and you both chuckled.

before you knew it, you and neville were having an actual conversation. a huge party going on downstairs, but it truly just felt like the two of you.

you never really knew neville on a deep level, but after tonight, you wished you had known him like that for years. he had so many interests, and he was very knowledgeable about them, too. any bit of his life that he provided you details about intrigued you. the boy was so fascinating, and you couldn’t believe you never took the time out of your life to get to know him before.

at one point, you decided on the fact that your friends were probably worried sick about you. so, you decided that it was time to part ways with the special lad.

as you two passed goodbyes back and forth, you stopped when you opened the door. you smirked to yourself, and turned back around to face him.

“hey, longbottom...”

he looked up at you, showing that he was being attentive.

“i don’t turn down dares.”

before neville longbottom knew it, your once buttoned shirt was now opened, revealing all the uncharted territory that traced your skin.

his breath hitched, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from you. the way your curves dipped, the way your nipples began to turn hard from the chilly dorm air meeting them. it was all too much.

“goodnight, longbottom!” you giggled innocently, before leaving him all alone in his dorm.

his mouth was left agape. he couldn’t stop thinking about you, or... them. you were absolutely more perfect than he ever could’ve pictured.

“wow.” he breathed out,

his body fell back onto his bed, and he stared up at the canopy above him.

what a night.

[omgrachwrites]

Playing The Hero - Chapter Four

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!Reader 

Summary: Soulmates have a way of seeing and feeling each other’s emotions by a gem that is set in the palm of their hand which glows with magic. The colour of the gem on the palm of your hand, erratically changes between different colours. Unbeknownst to you, every time the gem on your soulmates palm glows blue he feels very over protective and worried. That’s just what happens when your soulmate always plays the hero. Soulmate Au

Warnings: fluff!!!

Words: 2296

A/N: Sorry this is so late guys (but it works out pretty well posting it on the 1st of September), life is crazy right now! I hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all very much! xxx

masterlist

Yellow - Happy, Secure, Excited

Red - Scared, Nervous, Unsure, Angry

Grey - Stressed, Worried

Blue - Sad, Hurt, Frustrated

Orange - Overprotective

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

Chapter Four

When Harry woke up on that dreary miserable Saturday, he felt excited despite the horrible weather, and for a second he couldn’t understand why. Then, all of a sudden, his exhausted brain remembered and he almost jolted out of bed as a thrill zipped through his veins. Quidditch was starting today – well, try outs were being held – and Harry had been chosen as the Quidditch Captain. He just wished that Sirius and his parents could be here to see his success.

He glanced down at his watch and saw that it would be a couple of hours until breakfast but at this moment in time, he felt too excited to be able to get back to sleep. Harry stretched and climbed out of bed to pour himself a cold glass of water from the jug on the windowsill. He gazed out onto the dark wet grounds, it wasn’t ideal conditions for Quidditch but it wasn’t the worst. At least there wasn’t thunder and lightning.

A laugh almost forced its way out of Harry’s mouth as he watched Hagrid stumble through the rain with Fang, presumably so Fang could do his business. As he was creeping back to bed as quietly as he could for another couple of hours sleep, Ron sat up with a sleepy sigh.

“How do you look so happy this early in the morning?” he groaned with his eyes half closed and his red hair sticking up in different directions.

“Quidditch try outs are today mate,” Harry laughed as he got back into his bed.

Ron nodded as realisation dawned on his tired freckled face, “oh yeah,” he gave Harry a tired thumbs up, “can’t wait,” he hummed as he fell back onto his back and immediately began snoring.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation before he succumbed to sweet sleep once more. When Harry woke up once more, the dormitory was a little bit brighter and it had stopped raining but it was still dull and grey outside. He ran a hand through his messy hair and stretched his arms above his head as he glanced over at Ron’s bed.

His best friend was sitting at the end of his bed, looking a little more awake, though his eyes were glazed over with the remains of sleep. Ron offered him a small smile as he pulled his shoes on and Harry noticed that Ron was looking a little peaky and his skin almost had a green tinge to it.

“Are you nervous, or sick mate?” he asked as he slid out of bed and began to get dressed for the day.

Ron clutched at his stomach, his eyes almost bugging out, “I’m lucky enough to be feeling both at the same time,” he mumbled sarcastically, “I don’t think that I can have anything for breakfast.”

Harry’s eyes widened just a little bit, he knew that this was serious if Ron wasn’t willing to try and eat something. Ron adored his food, “it’s only try outs, mate. I promise you that you’ll be fine and it’ll do you some good to eat something,” Harry remarked as he quickly finished getting dressed and the two friends made their way down to the warm and toasty common room.

Hermione already had her head buried in a book as she was sitting in their favourite squashy armchairs by the fireplace. Ron sighed, rolling his eyes as he rubbed at his temples and nudged Harry’s arm with his own.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, she’s a bloody nutter,” he shook his head, muttering beneath his breath.

Harry smirked and he was about to approach Hermione when something caught his eye, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Over Ron’s shoulder he noticed that Lavender Brown was gazing wistfully at Ron, her eyes held a longing gaze and her lips were pouty as she stared at Ron. Harry frowned, he thought it was very odd, considering that Lavender had never shown any interest in Ron before.

It didn’t look as though Ron had noticed yet so Harry quickly began walking towards Hermione before Ron could realise what was happening. That was one awkward, embarrassing conversation that Harry really didn’t want to be a part of. Hermione looked up from her book and smiled.

“Good morning,” her eyes softened just a little as they flickered over to Ron.

Before Harry could answer, Ron spoke up, effectively ruining the moment, “nutter you are, doing homework on a Saturday,” he scoffed.

At once, Hermione’s face hardened as she threw him a nasty look, “shut up, Ron!”

Ron and Hermione were still snarling at each other as they walked into the Entrance Hall and Harry was starting to feel a bit annoyed, they’d been at each other’s throats more than usual this year. Harry was about to tell them to put a sock in it when Ron gasped dramatically as he looked towards the huge doors that led into the Great Hall.

“What is it now?” Harry sighed.

“What the bloody hell is Y/N doing with him?” Ron pointed and Harry followed Ron’s gaze, his chest deflating a little as he saw Y/N talking with Malfoy.

“Well, it might be news to you, Ron, but Y/N can be friends with whoever she wants,” Hermione hissed before hesitating, “even if it is Malfoy,” Ron grumbled in reply but he didn’t say anything in response.

The conversation between Y/N and Malfoy didn’t look particularly friendly, Y/N looked angry but worried at the same time as she bit her lip. Malfoy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat. A shooting pain in Harry’s palm caused him to look at his gem and he was surprised with what he saw; it was very unusual. It was a gradient of red and blue, causing a surge of over protectiveness to inflate in his chest.

As Harry approached the bickering couple, Y/N smiled at Harry and gave him a little wave, causing Malfoy to sneer and he whispered something to Y/N before stalking away, “hey guys! Excited for try-outs?”

“So excited!” Harry grinned, suddenly feeling nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair, biting his lip, “are you coming to watch? You’re more than welcome as long as you don’t give our game plan away,” he was mostly joking.

“I’d love to, thanks for inviting me, Harry,” Y/N smiled as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“It will be good to have another girl, these boys can get so tiresome,” Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes, Harry didn’t know whether to be offended or not.

“I can only imagine,” Y/N giggled, winking at Harry.

“Since when were you friends with Malfoy?” Ron frowned as he crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow and Harry groaned internally.

“Merlin, what is the matter with you this morning?” Harry shook his head at his best mate before turning back to look at Y/N apologetically, “sorry,” he mumbled.

Y/N simply waved away his apology, “it’s no worries,” Y/N smiled as she looked over Harry’s shoulder at Ron, “trust me Ron, it’s a very long story,” she rolled her eyes.

After a light breakfast, Harry and Ron said goodbye to the girls as they headed into the changing rooms to get ready for the try-outs, the conditions had gotten a bit worse, it had started raining again. Harry was starting to feel a little nervous as he stood in front of the many hopefuls and his eyes wandered to the stands. Y/N shot him an encouraging little wave and he smiled, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. Sitting a couple of rows behind Y/N and Hermione, was Lavender who looked like she was on the edge of her seat as she stared at the pitch. Harry shook his head before looking at the possibilities for his Quidditch team.

Dean and Ginny were very good Quidditch players – Ginny had Fred and George’s talent in the air – but he was hesitant to get them both on the team. They had recently started dating and he didn’t want tension to darken his team – and their chances of winning the cup – if they ever broke up.

Harry shivered in the rain as he decided to issue a warning to the team, “now, I just want to say, just because you made the team last year doesn’t guarantee you a spot this year, is that clear?” he called out and he couldn’t help but quickly glance up at the stands again.

“Does that include you as well?” Cormac McLagan – the biggest dickhead in Gryffindor – asked with a smug smirk on his face. Harry narrowed his eyes but before he could reply, Ron jumped to his defence.

“Don’t be dense! He’s the Captain!”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going to have a very good shot at winning if our Captain is constantly distracted. Though, I can’t blame you, Potter, I’d be the same knowing that Granger and Y/L/N are in the stands,” McLagan smirked as he turned around to wave at the two girls who were sitting in the stands and Harry had a sudden urge to punch him in his throat.

“What is this ‘we’ business, you’re not on the team, McLagan,” Ginny scowled which effectively shut him up.

You shivered and stuck your hands in the pockets of your coat as you walked up the high street on your way to the Three Broomsticks. It was the first Hogsmeade trip and Hermione had invited you to go with the trio and you’d said that you’d meet her in the pub, you couldn’t get up early on your day off, especially when it was cold. There were weekends when you would stay in bed all day.

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

As you got to the pub, you pushed open the door and stepped inside, breathing out in relief as you felt how warm the pub was, thanks to the huge fire that was crackling away. The pub was exceptionally busy today, Hagrid was talking to a hag in one corner and there was someone who was drinking from a steaming goblet at the bar. This is why you loved coming to The Three Broomsticks because you got to see and meet so many different people.

You spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting on a table that was tucked away in a cute little alcove and you could see Ron scowling at the table a couple of rows over from theirs. When Harry spotted you he greeted you with a wave and you smiled back as you walked over to their table.

“Hi guys, I’m sorry that I’m late but I just can’t get up early at the weekend,” you laughed as you sat next to Hermione, who grinned at you as she pulled you into a one armed hug. Before this year, you hadn’t really spoken to Hermione but she was really lovely.

“No worries,” Harry smiled, his cheeks and nose were red from the cold and he was still wrapped up in his woollen scarlet and gold scarf, “got you a drink,” he mumbled almost shyly as he a tankard of Butterbeer over to you, his fingers brushing against yours, making you blush.

“Thanks Harry,” you grinned as you quickly took the drink, wondering if Harry felt the same electricity as you did. As soon as you took a sip of the warm beverage, you closed your eyes and sighed happily, it felt like heaven as it slid down your throat and warmed your insides, “so what’s going on with you guys?”

Ron groaned around his Butterbeer and he shook his head, “do not get him started,” he jabbed his thumb at Harry and that piqued your interest.

“Why, what’s happened?” you laughed, ignoring Ron’s groans of protests and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione get a book out of her bag and she sighed as she opened the front cover.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Slughorn has been pestering me about going to one of his dinner parties and I can’t think of anything worse. He’s throwing one tomorrow for Halloween.”

“Ah yes, the infamous Slug Club, my dad was a member,” you snickered, thinking it was hilarious and a bit weird that Slughorn threw a party for his students, “how did you get out of the other two he held?”

“Well, I had that detention with Snape, and the other time I was loaded up with homework,” he bit his lip and you could tell that there was something he wasn’t saying but you didn’t want to pry.

“Slughorn’s parties surely can’t be that bad,” you laughed as you sucked some Butterbeer foam from your finger and you didn’t miss the way that Harry watched, almost enraptured.

“Want to come with me then? And you can see for yourself,” Harry laughed and Ron grimaced before standing up.

“I’m going to the bar,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, no,” you laughed, you could think of better things to do with your night, “like, I’d go if I was invited but I can barely stand Slughorn in class, never mind in a social setting.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Harry smirked.

You flushed and took a sip of your Butterbeer as you searched for something to say, you didn’t know Harry all too well but there was something you really liked about him. But, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. However, you couldn’t let Harry distract you from your mission of finding your soulmate.

“But seriously, if you need someone to go with, I don’t mind going with you, just once,” you admitted.

Harry smirked as he quirked an eyebrow and bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, “yeah? Good to know.”

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

@annemagus @smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @pregnant-piggy @justadreamyhufflepuff @yoitsalexxxxx @potters-heart @voiddylanobrosey​ @wilddxchildd​ @padsfirewhisky​ @lozzybowe​

[amanda-teaches]

Our Christmas Mission ~ 5/9

Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow will find it hard to sleep tonight

Summary: With Sam stationed overseas, he asks his brother, Dean, to help plan a surprise Christmas proposal for his girlfriend, and your best friend, Eileen. With very limited Christmas experience, Dean enlists your help to create some holiday magic for the lovebirds. Will the two of you find a little love of your own along the way?

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Square filled: The Santa Clause for @spnchristmasbingo​

Word Count: 945

Warnings: Mentions of angst and parent death.

A/N: Anyone else reading the titles getting “The Christmas Song” stuck in their heads? Just me? ... This one really gets me in my childhood feels with one of my FAVORITE MOVIES.

Our Christmas Mission Masterlist

Once the apartment was all decked out in festive splendor, and the cookies were half eaten back in the kitchen, the three of you collapsed onto the sofa, aiming to wrap the night up with a lighthearted Christmas movie. 

Eileen left the choice of movie up to you, so you picked your favorite from when you were growing up- The Santa Clause. You all watched in comfortable silence until about 40 minutes in, when Eileen’s phone started vibrating next to you. She paused the movie when she felt the vibration, reaching down to answer it. As soon as she did, Sam’s face popped up on the screen, and you smiled in response.

“Sam!” she cried, her voice raising a few octaves in pure excitement. “You weren’t supposed to call until tomorrow!”

Sam beamed at her, the flash of his uniform from the bottom of the screen a signal that he’d just gotten off duty. “We got back early, and you were the first face I wanted to see after this crazy week.”

“Wow, Sammy, I’m hurt,” Dean pouted, poking his head into frame. You could tell by his tone of voice he was doing it lightheartedly, and it seemed like Sam could tell too, because he just playfully rolled his eyes.

Eileen looked over at you, holding up the phone. “I’ll be right back?”

“Take your time,” you reassured her as she moved towards her bedroom, her animated conversation fading with each step she took away from you.

Her departure left you and Dean alone, and a sudden pit in your stomach. Even though you were on opposite sides of the couch, you suddenly felt entirely too awkward and nervous without Eileen as a buffer, no idea of what you should say or do around him now.

“So I don’t get it.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, looking over at Dean, befuddlement quickly replacing your anxiety. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “You don’t get what?”

He shifted towards you, folding one leg up onto the couch so he could face you. “Dude kills Santa, right? Oh, sorry, ‘accidentally’ killed him. “Yeah right,” he scoffed, making you grin. “But THEN dude takes Santa’s literal sleigh and sees this whole amazing magical place with sassy reindeer and a personal hot chocolate elf, and he just…denies it all happened? What’s up with that?”

You’d assumed he was joking when he first started talking, but the incredibly determined look on his face said something different, so you gave him a serious answer. “Okay, well, he’s fighting the truth because it seems so unbelievable. He never thought the North Pole was real.”

“But Charlie saw it too! They couldn’t have the exact same dream. Plus, plus!” he yelled, growing spirited. “He had the freakin’ pajamas!”

Your lips quirked further upward watching him, and you had to suppress a laugh at how adorable he was being. “You’ve really never even heard of this movie?”

Dean shrugged, scooting onto Eileen’s cushion so he was closer to you. “I told you, we didn’t really do Christmas growing up. My mom died when I was four and my dad moved us around a lot. He was a Marine.” His face darkened slightly at the memory. “We weren’t really ever in a place long enough to put down roots, especially for Christmas.” His voice trailed off until he looked into your eyes, refocusing his full attention on you. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He smiled at you, his face looking so soft and inviting in the low light. It almost took your breath away, but you were startled back into the conversation when he posed his question again. “What were your Christmases like as a kid?”

He was an enigma to you. He seemed to hold himself at arm’s length, but then he opened up to you so easily sometimes. It showed a surprisingly vulnerable side of him that you knew must’ve been hard for him to share. You had to give that vulnerability back. “They were pretty picture perfect when I was younger. My parents did all the traditional things, letters to Santa, stockings by the tree. We even left carrots out for the reindeer.”

Dean smiled every time you laughed, putting his arm up on the back of the couch and leaning into you as you shared. You shifted towards him too, crossing your legs under you. “I remember lying awake on Christmas Eve so excited I could barely sleep. You know, eyes all aglow for Santa and all that. The whole experience felt like magic, especially with my dad. He would ring bells like the reindeer were landing and everything, and I used to spy to see if I could catch them, even though I never could.” Your voice stalled, the memories shifting from happiness to sadness. “They died in a car crash when I was 13.”

Dean grimaced, surprise and sympathy chasing away his smile. “Damn, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. My grandma tried to keep the magic alive after, but it was never really the same. And then when she died a few years ago...I guess I just try to do Christmas big in memory of them.” An idea popped into your mind then, and you paused. “Wait, memories…”

Dean stared at you, his eyes holding yours in question. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, straightening up and grabbing his arm. “Memories! That’s it, Dean. My best memories of my parents are the simple things they did for me, not the big extravagant gestures. That’s exactly what we need! That’s the key to this whole proposal. We need to go simple.”

[stray-kids-react]

Their Crush isn't ready yet

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You were fresh from a toxic relationship, being cheated on by your ex 7 times and trying to convince yourself that he won't do it again. But your friends convinced you to end it, knowing you deserve much better.

° You best friend Chan felt conflicted on the situation, feeling joy that he has a chance but sadness at how broken you seemed. He didn't want to tell you his feelings while you are still so sensitive, but it happened.

° Seeing you sobbing in your bed alone over someone who didn't deserve you, he couldn't control himself when he rushed to your side. Soothing you with his embrace and gentle kisses to absorb the tears that streamed.

° You didn't want to date anyone at the moment, but you didn't want Chan to stop holding you either. You didn't know what to call what that meant, but that mystery was all you needed right now.

"We don't need to be anything right now, I'll wait. But whatever we are right now is perfectly fine with me."

Lee Know

° You were a new idol, having to obey the dating ban for three years exactly. Even if you had feelings for anyone, you couldn't act on them unless you wanted to be hated by the public and your entertainment.

° After doing a special stage with Stray Kids, you quickly became attached to Minho. Wanting to do nothing else than go out with him, but as an idol you had a responsiblity to not become attached to anyone.

° Minho knew about your dating ban, but it still stung that he would have to wait for three years just to ask you out. He wished the entertainments weren't so strict, then idols could be free and do what they wanted.

° Minho will still attempt to date you secretly, even if it risks his reputation. He wants to live his life as an idol but also wants to be free to do what he wants. And he will do anything for you to join him.

"I know the idol life is hard, but if you give me once chance I swear no one will have a clue about us. One chance is all I ask for."

Changbin

° You had massive anxiety issues, it took you years to open up to Stray Kids. You were closest to Changbin and trusted him to protect you when you felt nervous or uncomfortable in any situation.

° Changbin fell in love with you, but knew the chances of getting accepted were slim. He'd have to wait at least another year and warm up to you more for you to consider going on a date with him.

° That still didn't mean his heart wouldn't stop everytime you clung onto him or asked him for something in your adorable hushed voice. It was bittersweet adoring someone he knew would probably reject him.

° Changbin never talked to you about these feelings, not wanting to make things awkward or scare you off. He knew you weren't ready for any commitments at the moment and he was okay with waiting.

"So when you do go in a date with someone, what do you think your ideal date scenario would be? Just out of curiosity."

Hyunjin

° You were dating a huge douche bag who you didn't even like that much, your family adored him so you had to put up with the relationship you didn't want to be in. But his best friend made things complicated.

° His best friend was Hyunjin, a handsome gentleman that made your heart skip a beat once he opened his mouth. Your family didn't pay attention to Hyunjin, listening to your boyfriend's obnoxious stories instead.

° Hyunjin kept tagging along many more times, always connecting to you and treating you better than your boyfriend does. He'd give you his jacket, compliment you, and sneak away with you to watch a movie.

° You never thought you'd kiss someone when dating someone else, but here you were in the back of the theatre with Hyunjin's lips molded against yours in the most satisfying way possible.

"I know you don't love him, and I don't need confirmation on that. Your family is strict, but waiting and fighting for you is worth it."

Han

° You were a busy person, and your main focus was on your job. Everyone who knew you, knew that your only love was for for your job and you weren't going to settle down your life anytime soon.

° Your coworker Jisung admired your passion and determination, his admiration turning into a crush in a matter of months. But he knew you weren't going to focus on anything else except your career.

° Jisung would love to see you let loose and have some fun, he wants to be your stress reliever. But you won't let anyone get too close to you, this is disappointing since he can see how hard you are on yourself.

° All he could do was try to become close enough that he could take atelast some of your stress away, even if it is just as a close friend and nothing more. He doesn't want to see you overwork yourself.

"How about we go take a coffee break, you've been printing so much stuff that I think it recognizes your fingerprint now."

Felix

° You were going through a rough patch at the time, being bullied everyday by a group of students at your university. They'd harass you until you reached your dorm room, sometimes trying to get inside with you.

° Your crush/best friend Felix knew about the bullies, but didn't know how bad they truly were. He lived on the campus opposite of yours and checked in on you as often as he could. That's how he found out.

° They were banging on your door calling you a slut, dumb ass, pathetic, peice of garbage ect. And Felix didn't need one more second til he stormed over there to get them away from you.

° They eventually scattered when they heard the Dean storming the halls, letting Felix have some room to open the door and comfort your sobbing figure. Your relationship was confusing, but needed.

"It's okay, I won't let them hurt you anymore. We'll go to the professor tomorrow, but for right now I need you to take a deep breath."

Seungmin

° Seungmin had a crush on you ever since he was a trainee, you were in a senior group but known as one of the younger members. While hosting ASC he even mentioned to Jamie how talented you were.

° Seungmin knew that JYP was making your dating ban longer due to your popularity among fans, but this didn't stop hsi crush from continuing to grow as he got to know you for more than just an idol crush.

° Seungmin would sneak you snacks when you were on a very strict diet, not understanding why you needed to lose anymore weight. And on days off he would invite you to play some games with him.

° You truly liked Seungmin and had one more year til your contract was finished with JYP, you'd only have to wait one more year until you could see how much your relationship with Seungmin blossoms.

"I'm sorry that JYP is so harsh on you, I know it doesn't really help anything but I do think that you deserve to be treated better."

Jeongin

° Jeongin was your brother's best friend, the best friend that your brother told you not to start crushing on because that would be gross. But, you ended up crushing on his best friend nonetheless.

° It all started when Jeongin was staying at your house and the power went off, you were alone and scared in your room. He brought candles to your room and talked to you until you felt tired enough to go to sleep.

° You didn't want to put your brother in an awkward spot so you tired to hide your feelings from Jeongin. But he figured it out whenever you blushed at the sight of him, hoping your brother doesn't notice it.

° When you brother was asleep one night, Jeongin decided to confront you on the tense subject. He felt the same bittersweet sensation that you did, but needed to know if you at least liked him back.

"I know it may distress you, but I do think if we warm your brother up to the idea that we may be able to go out."

[hops-hunny]

On Your Marks, Get Set, Go!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5k

Request: @de4d-s0up“36,38,12 for Neville!❤️ fem reader and surprise me it can be fluff or smut OH OK IM EXCITED NOW😌 CONGRATS ON 300 BABES SO PROUD OF YOU<3”

Summary: (Y/n) spends so much time in Neville’s shadow that when she’s brought to the light she suffers from some massive stage fright and forgets her lines (not literally but like this sounds clever and you’ll get it soon. Just fuckin read it, yeah?

Warnings: None! A little angst but nothing too big, just majority fluff fluff fluff!

A/N: Can I just say that I love how well these flow together?? LIKE UGH YOU ALWAYS GIVE ME SOME GOOD SHIT TO WORK WITH!! This was very fun to write so tysm!

36.Admirer

38.Caught

12.“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.”

If you were to ask (Y/n) who was the most attractive guy in the castle, she would 1000% say it was Neville Longbottom. For as long as she could remember, she was absolutely mesmerized by him and with time, he had gone from the adorable little guy she’d see in the hall into a charming young man who she could not be anywhere near. Yes he had a tendency to be a bit socially awkward sometimes but if anything, that added to his charm and if anything that made it even harder to talk to him. She didn’t want to have to face such an awkward interaction on why she was approaching him despite them not being friends nor having any classes together.

So she watched from afar, following him around the halls, sticking close to him whenever she could. It wasn’t in a creepy way however! She just found him to be beautiful and she couldn’t help herself. The more she thought about it she did sound like a stalker but that was such a strong word. And if he didn’t know of her existence could there really be any harm to what she was doing? That’s what she thought to herself as she stood behind the pillar, observing him as he conversed with his friends. Neville was currently laughing at something Dean had said as he shoved Seamus. (Y/n) couldn’t help the smile that was beginning to form at the boy’s laughter. His smile was simply contagious, a ray of sunshine indeed! She sighed to herself softly before biting the inside of her cheek.

“I wish he’d smile at me like that.” she murmured softly as to not alert them of her presence. If only she could speak, say even just one word to him. But alas, anytime she even attempted an utterance of a word her brain would short circuit and she went running the opposite way. It just wasn’t fair! She held tightly onto her books as dust fell from above her head, her (e/c) eyes growing wide as dust made its way into her nose. “O-oh no. Please, please ple-” she was cut off by the exact thing she didn’t want, a loud sneeze. She groaned, training her eyes to the ground in front of her. However if her luck wasn’t bad already a familiar pair of brown shoes stopped right in front of her. (Y/n) quickly snapped her head up looking at the boy of her affections. Neville stood in front of her, searching the pocket of vest for something until he pulled out a pale yellow handkerchief.

“You alright, love? That was some sneeze.” He said, holding out the small fabric to her as he offered her a small smile. She was stunned, Neville was talking to her. She kept her eyes locked with him with a shocked expression mouth agape. ‘Don’t just stand there!! Speak! Move! Do SOMETHING!!’. She slowly began to take small steps backwards, shaking her head ‘no’ frantically as she ran off down the hallway not even noticing she had dropped the little brown leather notebook she always kept on her. The gryfindor boy made a soft frown as he reached down, picking up the book. He flipped it open looking for a name relieved when he found a name on the inner cover. “(Y/n) (L/n), 6th year. Huh, I wonder why I’ve never seen her before?” He said to no one in particular as he walked back to Seamus and Dean who were laughing at the scene that had just played out in front of them.

“Geez Nev, we knew you were bad with women but that’s a whole new level!” Seamus choked out through laughs, reaching a freckled hand up to wipe the tears that had formed in his state of hysteria.

“Yeah seriously! What the hell did you even say?” Dean said, coming down from his laughter. Neville frowned some, shrugging his shoulders as he scratched the back of his head.

“I’ve got no clue. I saw she had sneezed and offered her my cloth and after I did that she just ran off! Is there something in my teeth? Do I smell bad?” He questioned, sniffing at his pits to check for any suspicious odor but found nothing but the smell of his body wash and deodorant. 

“No you don’t smell bad. Well no worse than usual that is.” Seamus said with a shrug. Neville rolled his eyes flicking him on the forehead with a scowl.

“You’re one to talk! Your natural scent is smoke and sweat, I don’t wanna hear it from you.” He grumbled out, shifting his eyes back to the book in his hands. The girl was clearly frightened of him, how was he supposed to get it back to her? “I just feel so bad, I don’t know what I did to make her so scared of me. I’ll wait a bit before I give it back to her.”

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

And he had done just that. (Y/n) had noticed her journal was missing but didn’t think much of it. She had a habit of losing things and assumed it would get back to her in some way and plus, it wasn’t that important. It was just filled with notes and sketches of the different mushrooms she had found on the castle grounds. Whenever she had a free period or a bit of free time on her hands, one of her favorite things to do was identify rare breeds of fungi and other various plants. And although she had missed doing that, it had only been a week and it's not like she didn’t have parchment. The only thing that was frustrating about that was that parchment and scrolls lacked the same convenience that notebooks had. (she didn’t know why Hogwarts wouldn’t just get with the times. Where were they, Camelot?)However she had faith one of her friends would bring it back to her. (Y/n) didn’t have many which is why she wondered what was taking so long for the return of her notebook.

“Hey guys, have you seen my notebook? You know the little brown one I always carry?” she asked, plopping down on the old worn down couch in the (y/h/h) common room.

“Hmm, nope! Last time I saw it you were carrying it. Why? Did you lose it?” Gwen said as she continued to read her book.

“You’re so bad with keeping track of things. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t on your shoulders.” Marco said, rolling his eyes at his friend's irresponsible behavior.

“Oh come on that was ONE time! When the potion said it’d blow your head off I didn’t think it meant quite literally!” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. Her eyes lit up as she was reminded of a detail. “And besides, didn’t you drink that exact potion afterwards because you wanted to know what it felt like to have no head?”

Marco was silent, whistling as he avoided eye contact with his friend before his eyes landed on a familiar lanky brunette holding a certain little book that had been missing. “Hey, isn’t that the guy you fancy? He’s got your book!” he said, pointing in the direction in which Neville was coming from. (Y/n) gasped, gathering her stuff as she muttered something about ‘being late to class’ but right as she stood up, she was yanked back down by Gwen. “Woah, not so fast track star! How are you going to get your book if you leave?”

“Y-you can give it to me! Tell him you know me. See ya!” she said standing back up but once again, she was yanked back down. “Would you quit it?!”

“No can do buckeroo. You’ve gotta get your book back somehow. Neville’s a pretty honorable guy, I highly doubt he’s gonna give your book to some people who could possibly know you. He’d wanna give it directly to you himself.” Gwen said, still not looking up from her book. (Y/n) let out a defeated sigh. She was right. Neville is the type to make sure to get back a lost item to the person themselves to avoid any chance of them not receiving it. She knew that better than anyone.

Neville wiped his free hand on his pants leg, eliminating the thin layer of sweat that had gathered on it. He was nervous to say the least. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any female friends, it was just that the female friends he did have didn’t look at him like he was you-know-who himself. Since their last meeting, he had thought about the girl a lot. He couldn’t recall seeing her before and he wasn’t the type of person people hated without any rhyme or reason so it baffled him. Someone found him intimidating? That was a new one! Neville had taken the liberty of asking his friends what he could do to be more welcoming for people but they all just seemed to laugh in his face or scoff. 

He found the question to be an absurd one for him to be asking too but for some reason, all he wanted to do was be less scary. Less scary and more approachable to the girl so maybe, maybe he could talk to the mysterious beauty who he’d never notice. That was another thing that made him quite angry. In all his years of Hogwarts, how hadn’t he noticed such a rose in its prime? Even in her frazzled state her refinement was more than apparent. She had beautiful glowing (e/c) eyes, the cutest little nose, and two beautiful petals that were more commonly known as lips. Even now as he got closer and she had that same damn look on her face, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on and he had done a lot more than just laying his eyes on girl’s.

“I-I believe this belongs to you?” He said, holding the book out in front of her. However, all the girl did was stare up at him with wide (e/c) eyes and her pretty little lips parted in horror. The girl to her right cleared her throat, nudging her not so blasé

 in her action. (Y/n) shifted to her eyes before quickly bringing them back to Neville as she closed her mouth. “Well it’s not that I believe it belongs to you, I know it’s yours. You dropped it when you ran away from me the other day.” He said looking away as he scratched the back of his head with his hand, running his fingers through his luscious locks of brown. “Now that I think about it, that doesn’t automatically make it yours. I’m sorry for assuming! You could’ve been holding onto it for a friend or or-”

“It’s hers. Thank you Neville, that was very kind of you and I’m sure (Y/n) appreciates it. Right (Y/n)?” Gwen asked, handing her the book from the boy's hands. (Y/n) just continued to stare. No movement, no indication that she did appreciate it.

“I’ve always liked you, you just never noticed.” she said softly, continuing on with her intense gaze. Her breath hitched as her eyes almost popped out of her head, both hands flying to her mouth. Not one person spoke, all her friend’s and Neville were just as shocked as she was at the announcement. “No, no, no. Fuck!” she mumbled with a great emphasis on the last word. She quickly stood up, running away making sure to not forget her book this time. 

(Y/n) continued to whip and run through the hallway, going as fast as her legs could carry her. She paid no mind to where she was going and quite frankly she didn’t care. Anywhere far away from Neville was good enough. If him catching her behind the pillar that day was the biggest embarrassment of the year, this was the biggest embarrassment of the century. How could she speak so freely, so carelessly? All those years of sneaking around, admiring him from a far were thrown down the drain. Things would never be able to go back to how they were without him noticing her there. She slid down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest as she sobbed loudly. It didn’t matter, no one came to this hallway so she didn’t have to think about what would happen if someone heard her. She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve before glancing at the book at her side. Out of a fit of rage she picked it up, throwing it at the wall in front of her. She watched as the book fell with a thud, pages open to a random observation she had made about a spore specimen.

“I’m starting to think I’m bad luck. It appears as though anytime I’m around, you’ve got tears coming out of those pretty little eyes of yours.” Neville said softly, kneeling in front of the girl. (Y/n) brought her head up, (e/c) eyes staring into hazel ones.

“You...you think my eyes are pretty?” she questioned, tilting her head some as she sat up a bit straighter. Neville reached forward, gripping her small hand in his much larger one.

“Not just pretty, the prettiest. After I met with you that first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about them all night. Despite how horrified you looked at me, they were still the prettiest shade of (e/c) I’d ever seen.” He said, smiling softly at the girl’s flustered expression. “You know I’m a bit relieved to know that you like me.”

“R-really? Why’s that?” (Y/n) questioned, gripping his hand back as he helped pull her off the ground.

“Because, that means you don’t think of me as some scary monster! I was beginning to grow quite worried, y’know?” He said, chuckling a bit. (Y/n) gasped, smacking him on the shoulder a bit.

“Hey! I was not that bad….was I?” she asked, looking into his eyes. Neville bit his lip, looking away from her. “Oh come on! Can you blame me though? I’ve had a crush on you since we were on the train to Hogwarts for the first time. I remember I was so angry that I wasn’t the one who found Trevor for you.” she said, clinging onto his arm a bit. Neville looked a bit shocked at that revelation. Most girls didn’t pay him much attention till around 5th year, had she really liked him for that long?

“Does that mean that this,” he leaned down, pecking her on the lips before pulling away, “Was your first kiss?” He asked. (Y/n) had that same expression she had during the encounter a bit ago however this time, something was a bit different. She gripped his shirt before bringing his lips back down to hers kissing him with feverish intensity. Neville let out a small moan, gripping at her waist tightly as he pinned her against the wall causing her feet to dangle in the air.

(Y/n) was right on something, things would never be the same. But sometimes change was good. That was proven to her as Neville had his tongue down her throat.

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Sleepless Nights | N. L

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Gender Neutral Insomniac Reader Warnings: None, just Neville being adorable Words: 2,100 Summary: The reader is an insomniac, and Neville goes to keep them company one night. 

A/N: this if written in Neville's POV. If you have any requests send them my way. 

Neville’s POV

It was one of those rare nights when I just couldn’t sleep. No matter what I did I would toss and turn, one minute too hot, the next too cold, unable to get comfortable no matter how I laid. It was annoying, nights like this; nights when my brain was running and wouldn’t let me sleep, forcing me to give up on it all together when I look at the clock and see it’s only been 20 minutes since I last checked.

I slip out of bed, pulling on a jumper and making my way quietly towards the door of the dorm, trying not to wake up the rest of the boys. The floor creaks and I freeze in place at the tower’s groan at the weight of my foot, looking back when I hear Ron stir. 

Luckily he stays sleeping, and I creep out the door without disturbance and make my way down the stairs towards the common room. My feet seem to carry me on their own, having made this trip down so many times, and being extra tired tonight, my body manages to go on autopilot. I only realise I’ve actually made it to the common room when I’m standing on the bottom step, noticing the dim lights coming from the couch, and the fireplace set ablaze.

“Oh, hello Neville,” a small voice calls out, and I look over to the couch to see Y/N’s head poking out over the back, obviously lying down. I feel my hands get clammy at the way they say my name, even when it’s only a quiet whisper they manage to get my heart racing. I’ve had my eyes on them ever since my first year, although I didn’t realise at the time just how much I truly liked them. We became fast friends after they helped me find Trevor on the train, but even then I knew this friendship was different. They got my heart racing and my hands sweating, leaving me blushing and stumbling over my words in a way that no one else did. 

I never stood a chance though. I still don’t. Even as I get taller, stronger, less awkward looking and feel more confident in myself, so does Y/N. It seems that every year as they waltz onto the platform at the start of the term, and fling their arms around me in an excited hug they leave me even more in awe than the year before, looking more gorgeous and catching the eye of even more people. 

They’ve always been popular, since first year really. Y/N is always the go-to person for everyone, from any house, for advice, a shoulder to cry on, someone to help plan a party, anything really. Not only do people like Y/N though, they like like them. People’s heads seemed to turn as they walked down the hall, plenty of people asking them out; but only on rare occasion did they say yes, and even then it never lasted long. I couldn’t blame people though, Y/N was perfect. 

“Neville?” the same soft voice calls out to me, the clicking of fingers in my face bringing me back to reality, and making me jump when I see Y/N right in front of me. 

“Oh Gosh,” I stumble, laughing along with Y/N’s angelic laugh as we giggle at my shocked state, “s-sorry, I was d-daydreaming again.”

They laugh softly, shaking their head and reaching out to gently grab my hand and leading me over to sit on the couch, mumbling “I suppose you should call it night dreaming,” and giggling softly at their own joke, “I guess that’s just normal dreaming huh?”

They sit down on the loveseat, pulling me to sit down with them and cross their legs to face me. “Why are you up so late?”

“Just one of those nights you know,” I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly and looking towards the fire, trying not to focus on how adorable they look in their pyjamas, “just couldn’t sleep.”

“I know the feeling.”

I look at them, listening to the slightly sad, breathy laugh they let out as they rest their head on the armrest and look up at the ceiling. “Could you not sleep tonight either?”

“I think it’s more a matter of when can I actually sleep, rather than when I cannot.”

“You need to sleep though Y/N,” I say, hoping that the worry in my voice sounds more casual than it does, “it’s not good for you to not.”

“Aww thanks, Nev,” they giggle, moving their head onto the back of the couch to look at me, my face getting warmer at the nickname, “but I’m fine, I promise.”

“At least I can keep you company now,” I say shyly, looking at Y/N as they blush softly and smile back. 

—-

I wake up the next morning to the sound of snickering, pins and needles shooting up through my arm. There’s a weight rested on my shoulder, and I feel a soft warm breeze against my neck as I open my eyes.

Dean, Ron, Lavender and Parvati are stood in front of me, Ron and Dean looking shocked as the two girls cling to each other and giggle. I look down at my shoulder, to find Y/N lying there, stirring awake from their sleep. I can hear the four in front of us talking, but I don’t take anything in as I look at Y/N resting on my shoulder, unable to stop the smile at watching them sleep peacefully.

“Come on lovebirds,” a voice snaps me out of my thought, as Harry grabs onto my shoulder and Y/N’s arm, shaking them awake, “we’ll miss breakfast.”

I’m pulled away by Ron and Harry, Dean going back up to the dorm to get a jumper and Seamus just emerging down the stairs to join us. All the way to the Great Hall they don’t seem to stop with the questions. 

“What was that about?” 

“Since when are you that friendly with Y/N?”

“Have you asked them out yet?”

At that question I have to chime in, shooting Dean a look from across the table, “ask them out? Are you insane?”

He just shrugs, shovelling more food into his mouth, “I dunno, you seemed pretty friendly.”

The boys all laugh around me, as I feel my face start to heat up, “come on mate,” Harry chimes in, “everyone knows you like them, what’s the worst that could happen?”

I stare, open mouth at the guys, shocked at how they can even suggest something so casually that is by every definition insane. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and the boys all raise their eyebrows and wink at me as I turn around, looking up at a slightly red Y/N, “Hi Nev, can I talk to you for a sec?”

I nod, getting up and tripping over the bench as I do so, but quickly following Y/N out of the Great Hall. We stop by a wall, and they turn to face me, looking up at my taller figure. 

“I uh, I just wanted to, um to thank you, Nev,” they say, looking down at their feet and fiddling with the sleeve of their jumper, “for last night and all. It was the best I’ve slept in months.” They chuckle slightly, looking up at me and smiling softly, “it means a lot.”

“It’s not a problem Y/N,” they shake their head and go to say something else, before Hermione’s voice calls for the two of us, telling us we’ll be late. They go to turn around, and in a moment of bravery on my part, I grab onto their hand softly, and they turn to face me again, “really Y/N, I’d do anything to help. Let me know anytime you can’t sleep and I’ll help again,” I trail off, proud of my confidence at that moment. 

They lean upon their tiptoes, slinging their arms around my neck to pull me into a friendly hug. As I go to pull away I feel them press their lips softly to my cheek, and I look down at them in shock as they smile up at me before walking off towards Hermione when she calls our names again. I follow a beat later, a smile on my face as heat floods my cheeks, not shaking for the rest of the day.

--- 

It’s been a few days now since that night with Y/N, and things have been different recently. Not different in a bad way, me and Y/N are still very friendly, but now, whenever we talk, it just feels different. Our friends have started to notice too I think, sending glances to each other when we talk and getting to class early to make sure Y/N and I sit next to each other. I don’t mind it one bit, despite how awkward I get around them I love spending time with Y/N, but even I’ve been noticing how our friendship has been changing and I’m trying to find the guts to take it even further. 

It’s another sleepless night, and instead of sulking about it in my bedroom, I’ve already migrated down to the Common Room, sitting on the loveseat, with the fire going, reading a book. Part of me hopes that Y/N won’t come down tonight, hoping that they get a good night’s sleep, but another part of me wants them to come down again; wants to be able to talk to them until the early hours of the morning, to wake up with them curled into my arm again and be the reason they got to sleep. 

A chapter or two into my book and I’m interrupted by the sounds of doors opening and closing, and footsteps making their way down the stairwell. I go back to reading my book, wanting to look casual if it is Y/N. Just my luck, it is.

“Hi Neville,” they say softly, walking over to the couch and sitting down crisscrossed next to me again, “I’m glad you’re here. I actually was just checking your bed to see if you were there, I was considering asking you to sit up with me, but I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

My heart flutters in my chest as Y/N said that, unable to fathom them thinking about me let alone want me to keep them company. “I hope that wasn’t selfish of me,” they mumble, clearly starting to get anxious at my lack of response, “you’re just really good company and all, I won’t wake you next time you know you just really helped me last ti-.”

“It’s ok,” I say, putting my book down and facing them, “you don’t need to be sorry. I-I really li-like your company too.” I can feel my face heating up again at my nervous stuttering, but Y/N didn’t seem to notice, or if they did they don’t mention it, just sending me a soft smile. 

“Can I tell you something Neville?” they say, moving to sit on their knees now so they are closer in height to me. I nod my head, unable to get words out as I look into their eyes. 

“I really like you, Neville, I have for a while now actually.”

I’m gobsmacked at their confession, completely in awe of Y/N sat in front of me, with their hair messy and sleep clothes on. I want to say that I like them back, that I love them even, but no words come out. 

They sink back into the couch at my silence, looking down at the floor as they mumble an apology, getting up to leave. I grab their hand again, pulling them down slightly onto the couch and pressing my lips to theirs. The kiss is soft and gentle, their soft lips moving against my chapped ones as they slip their hands behind my neck, guiding me through the kiss. 

We pull away from each other and Y/N starts to giggle, “who knew you had that in you, Longbottom?” I laugh too, melting into their hands, resting on the back of my head and playing with my hair lightly, “I’m hoping that means you like me back?”

“More than anything Y/N,” I grab their hand, lacing my fingers through it and looking them in their beautiful eyes, “you mean the world to me.”

Y/N leans in this time, initiating the kiss, both of us giving all the love we have for each other into the simple gesture. When we pull away we’re both smiling like idiots, Y/N moving their head to nestle into my shoulder. 

“Can I take you out this weekend?” I ask, placing my head against Y/N’s lightly and smiling when they run their fingers along my knuckles. 

“I’d like that Nev.”

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXXIX

It was a love story from the very beginning

"You, me... And Sam."

Hello my friends!!! How are you? I feel much better now thanks to all your asks and your memes and your cracks, I adore them all!

Okay, putting that to a side, and still dreaming about how Jensen will give us the ending we all deserve, let's continue with this analysis, because is time to talk about the mixtape.

From butterflies in the stomach and Foreshadows of the new God

When the episode starts, there's a hint of what Jack's mission is. But coming out from Dagon's mouth, it became like a real bad future.

Dagon: Yeah. And he's not gonna stop there. Every sad, weak human, every tight-ass angel, every sniveling demon they'll all be consumed. So go ahead. Play your games. But whether you're healthy or sick, filthy or clean, He will be born. Good times.

Is almost the contrary to what Jack will actually do for the world. He will consume but it will be Chuck's powers until the last drop of it. And against Dagon's speech, he will save each demon and angel and restore everything.

Now, let's talk about CAS coming back to the bunker...

Gif credit @godshipsit

I think his face is saying everything here. The one entering in the bunker after go MIA, was Cas', so, Dean's face is scandalous.

Imagine that suddenly your disappeared crush enters through the door without previous announcement. Of cour we can read the bumping heart allnover Dean's cheek, his eyes went wide, in surprise. 'Is CAS!'

He was so worried this whole time, thinking the worst could happen to him, and now CAS is there, alive.

But his reaction to it will be completely different to Sam's reaction. This was settled to make us see the difference between how a friend would react and how a lover would react. Blatant.

Sam: Hey. You're all right. Um – Where have you been?

Sam is asking as a friend, but Dean, Dean doesn't...

Dean: Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the hell have you been? And why have you ignored our phone calls?

Okay, let's just stop here, this is the way a wife will ask her husband. But because we are talking about Dean, we can see his shield. His shield is US/WE, his shield is SAM, because he wants to drag his brother into the feeling of being desperately worried. Because recognize that DEAN WAS THE ONLY ONE ALMOAT LOOSING HIS HEAD TRYING TO KNOW IF CAS WAS ALIVE OR WHWRE HE WAS IA SHOWING WEAKNESS, IS SHOWING HIS TRUE FEELINGS FOR THE ANGEL. So, the theme of the I/ME vs the WE/US is perfectly written all over this episode.

Castiel: Where I was, the – the reception was, uh, poor.

Dean: No bars? No bars. That's his excuse. Wow.

Castiel: I was in Heaven. I was working with the angels. When I saw Dagon had captured Kelly, I-I thought they could help.

Okay Castiel is proving he is lying by himself here, because he said first he had not signal, and now, he heard one of the so many voice mails Dean had left in his phone.

Sam: And?

Castiel: Nothing.

Sam: Well, at least you're back. We're glad you're back

And be prepared again for the difference between the friend and the JILTED lover.

Dean: Really? No, I'm sorry. Okay, 'cause while you were striking out in Heaven, we had a shot at Dagon, and we lost.

Maybe Dean was waiting Sam to second him in his anger. But it was only in Dean's heart, the deception, and the recalling of so many days be worried about CAS. Because that's what romantic love makes you be.

Castiel: I know. I received your messages.

This was like a bomb for Dean...

Dean: Oh, you did – you did receive the messages? Okay, that's good.

Sarcasm...

Castiel: Dean.

Gif credit @starlightcastiel

Dean can't handle the pain in his heart of being rejected and ignored by Castiel, so he searches for his shield again: We/Us/Sam and me.

Dean: So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us? That's great. 'Cause we really could've used the backup. But, uh, you were too busy with, um (Clicks tongue) What was it? Nothing?

Castiel: Dean, I –

Dean: What the hell is wrong with you, man? You know, whatever. That's (Chuckles) Yeah. Welcome back. (walks away)

Dean is so mad with CAS. And is blatant that his reaction is totally different to Sam's.

The Mixtape as a way to reciprocate Castiel's confession, and the desperate attempt to make CAS to stay by his side.

Okay, we are now in the scene. I'm sure this scene had been dissected by many meta writers. I won't say new things, but i will point a little to their body languages.

Okay, the scene starts with Castiel knocking at Dean's door to give him back the mixtape, so jus aknowledged there that Dean gave CAS a freaking mixtape, which doesn't have another meaning that ROMANTIC. But we can assume Castiel doesn't get this human's customaries, also, we can assume he does, because boop culture that Metatron out at once in his head... So...

After Dean, without looking at him, because he is mad and now he has to handle this angel lack of knowledge about WHAT GIFTING A MIXTAPE MEANS, he said "It's a gift, you keep those."

And Castiel gets nervous.

Gif credit @stardustcas

The swallow and the way he opens his mouth again to breathe and maybe to say something else, but he stopped himself. Castiel is nervous. I thought at first because he has to find the Colt, and he knew Dean kept it in his room. But we know now that it wasn't just that. He was flustered because the intimacy of the situation with the man he loves.

Castiel looks around before attempting to leave, maybe searching for the Colt, but then Dean starts talking:

Dean: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.

And in the middle of the intimate scene, awkward moment, Dean needs his shield more than never.

Castiel: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

This speech is so important, because it shows how depressed Castiel felt, how uneasy. How unworthy. He needed to be useful. So he decided to start alone this dangerous journey that will end in his death. He also mentions the win. Because he didn't know he will be always Dean's win, as we will see in episode 13x06 when CAS comes back to Dean alive.

After they talk about Dragon, and Cas' asks if Sam and Dean are willing to kill an innocent, because that's dirty work, that's the mission CAS had taken in his own shoulders, Dean says this...

Dean: We will find a better way.

Castiel: You mean, we?

Gif set credit @deanwinchestrs

Cas points at Dean with the mixtape, because he wants to clarify if Dean is referring to them, to JUST CAS AND DEAN. YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. And Dean is now the flustered one. Look at Dean's face, being in just one spot, recognizing that the shield can be broken, that he is talking about CAS and him. Is too intimate. Too different. So his face is burning. And even so, the words are out. 'Yes, dumbass, we.'

What was this? This was an attempt coming from Castiel to get to know Dean's feelings. Pointing with the mixtape to just Dean and him. Not Sam here. Not shield. And Dean goes for it. Goes for that WE: YOU AND ME.

But then, Dean backtraks

Gif set credit @stardustcas

He starts explaining the WE, avoiding Castiel's gaze, he goes... 'You, me...' and then he tilts his head, and adds the shield back again: 'and Sam.'

The second gif is showing Dean backtracking, Because is too intimate, is too risky, he is standing on the edge between friendship and something else. He can't cross that line. Mostly because he is not sure about Castiel's feelings for him, and more now, after seeing how CAS ignored him for so long. Dean is like:

"What am I doing? Let's mention Sam here, and turn this into no homo conversation."

But the nervousness is all over the scene, i got nervous watching it because the awkward moment!

Gif set credit @stardustcas

More nervousness. Dean's flustered eyes. The swallowing. The attempt of staring into those blue eyes of the man he loves. (The butterflies in the stomach, the heart beating fast, the dry mouth) trying to make the conversation more normal, but their faces are loud.

Vas says he likes that and then Dean is more frustrated than never and his dry mouth is asking for a beer, or maybe he find a way out from the awkward moment, the gay moment. He needs to breathe. He almost let his guard down with this angel. And the desperate way to say STAY WITH ME. DON'T GO AWAY AGAIN. To his angel.

Castiel engages with a seductive look in the middle of the sexual tension

Sam: I mean, how did Cass even get the Colt out of the safe in the first place?

Dean drops his head. Sam raises an eyebrow

Sam Dean, you – you put the Colt back in the safe, right? Dean?

Dean: It was under my pillow. It – I like to keep it close. (Sighs) He came into my room and he played me.

Okay i can even explain the intimacy of this. Even if CAS didn't know about this and he just went searching all over Dean's room. Mention this after the huge scene full of romantic tension, has a meaning. Again: INTIMACY. And adding the "He played me" to all of this is another symbol way to show theme audience this was like that scene between the guy and his crush, in wich his crush takes advantage of it and plays him by stealing something from him. Yes.

Finally, when they find CAS... This scene...

Gif credit @stardustcas

Dean is mad, very mad at him. Because Castiel really played him. But... Look at the scene. Look at Castiel's gaze: PURE SEDUCTION. He maybe is aware of the effect he causes on Dean. And after the mixtape scene, he goes for it. Seduction as if they were in their first seasons together. And Dean is muted, and stares at him, then checks him out, and they're in their own sexual tension world, until Sam calls him. But he has to calls him twice because his brother is too embedded into Castiel's hot behavior.

But don't forget Dean is mad at him. So now, is Dean the one playing around with CAS. Throwing the keys at him and making him almost loose his stability to reach them.

Closing the circle

When Dean and Sam reach Castiel again in the middle of a battle with Dragon, Dean's desperation when Dagon is about to smite Castiel is high level.

But then Jack saves the day, not just showing CAS the future (the ending of season 15) but also, Jack gave him powers to finish Dagon.

Then, the scene in wich Castiel heals Dean is full of intimacy again. The lingerie touch, rubbing fingers. Because Dean is moving his hand slowly away from CAS touch but he ended by letting his hand to feel Castiel's rubbing his fingers. To let Castiel to heal him.

And then, CAS is gone again.

To Conclude:

12x19: The Future has Destiel all over it. Dean mad at him, reaching the level of a JILTED lover. Dean way to protect himself from another rejection using the WE/US/SAM shield. Just because he can't handle it. The doubts about Cas' feelings, and the way the angel always find to go MIA, makes his heart stutter.

The mixtape scene is one of the most emblematic. The nervousness is all over their faces, and Misha and Jensen transmite perfectly the romantic tension between the two characters and goes straight to our hearts, making us feel awkward and flustered too.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 12, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXIX, LXXX, LXXXI, LXXXII, LXXXIII, LXXXIV, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVII, LXXXVIII.

Buenos Aires, November 24th 2020, 9:36 PM

[deans-haunted-baby]

Dadstiel Shoulder Touch Analysis

I want to take some time to discuss something about this incredible father/son dynamic that I don’t think gets enough recognition. And that is their connection. A connection layered in so many different attributes yet primarily based on physical touch. Apologies this is going to be long. Despite my saltiness towards Supernatural as I feel the show squandered them during its run, I really love the amount of attention to detail that was put into Castiel and Jack’s relationship. It kind of has a Terminator inspired vibe going on which I can’t deny enjoying. The bodyguard and the future savior of mankind. And this bond was in development all the way back in season 12; long before Jack was born. 

During 12x19 it’s through his mother Kelly, that the son of Lucifer forges an emotional attachment with the trench-coated angel whom he imprints on to be his surrogate dad. From the moment Castiel puts his hand on her belly, and feels Jack, they instantly fall in love with each other. At first touch. Trusting each other completely without the slightest bit of doubt as they sense the other’s good aura. It’s a devotion unlike anything Cas has ever experienced in his millions of years. Even more than what he’s felt for Sam and Dean. And it happens before he and Jack even get to see each other. Their bond becomes intensely essential that it boosts Castiel’s grace, allowing him to protect Kelly and her son from Dagon as well as cause a rip in time and space.

After Jack is born and in the care of the Winchesters, scared, lost and confused yet curious as an infant in an adolescent body; the child wanders aimlessly searching for Castiel. All he wants in that moment is to be with Castiel because that is who he recognizes as his father. Missing him and needing to feel that same warmth, protection and compassion he felt from inside his mother’s womb. However, following the tragic circumstances that led to the angel’s unexpected death at the hands of Jack’s biological dad in 12x23, these two are forcibly separated in the beginning of season 13. Until Jack instinctively resurrects Castiel out of the Empty through his own will and desire alone at the very end of 13x03. Proving that no matter how far away they are, the tether between them can’t be broken.

These two don’t even need an introduction from Sam and Dean when 13x06 finally reunites them for the first time. Jack immediately knows who Castiel is going off on his mother’s memories. And their reunion comes so naturally. There’s no awkwardness, no hesitation or apprehensiveness emanating from the angel’s presence. Jack just walks right up to Cas, puts his arms around him and tells him how much he missed him. Its as if they’d never been apart. And afterwards they spend nearly the entire episode practically inseparable. Getting to know each other as father and son. And that goes without saying, while Jack did bond with the Winchesters in person first, there is no comparison to the Nephilim boy’s emotional attachment towards the angel.

This special relationship is very significant to both of them. Around each other they’re at their most happiest. Castiel is constantly at Jack’s side; and ALMOST ALWAYS tenderly touching him, namely his shoulders or protectively holding him by the arm and the child wholly reciprocates this. In Castiel’s gentle physical touch Jack is given a sense of security, solace, reassurance and comfort. Same as he’d had as an unborn baby. Not only is this the angel’s way of demonstrating his affection, empathy and devotion towards his son but this is actually how he non-verbally tells Jack that he loves him. Its purely unconditional. And this gesture isn’t one-sided as I will acknowledge later. Jack desires Cas’s tangible nearness as much as his dad does which is why they’re so magnetically pulled together in all of their scenes on the show. 

Even when they’re at conflict with each other or arguing, Castiel never fails to let Jack know that he’s always safe and loved. That he isn’t afraid of him. His son could be in pain, angry, or vengeful in the moment and Castiel’s affection for that child will never waver. He’ll endlessly put his own life at risk in order to reach Jack; who is far more powerful than he is via his archangel half. Like the convivence store scene in 13x23 when Jack attacks a civilian believing he’d killed his friend and Cas does his best to subdue him. Whether Jack wants it or not at the time, he needs his dad’s emotional support; and the angel can’t stand the thought of his son harmed or hurting. He’s easily saddened whenever Jack refuses his touch as shown in 13x21 when he was very upset over Sam’s temporary death and rips away Cas’s hand as he’s trying to console him.

Supernatural really emphasizes the powerful connection Castiel and Jack share using physical communication in nearly every one of their episodes. Its these wonderful details they do onscreen that illustrates the depth of love these characters have for each other. Unfortunately though, they didn’t get to interact much during season 13. Yet the small portions in their four episodes together is exceptionally substantial. While we’re on the subject, the shoulder touches are definitely a Dadstiel thing. It’s their signature sign of affection and theirs’s only. Don’t believe me, let me give you an example of a specific scene in 14x19 between Jack and Sam; which takes place in the aftermath of Jack’s accidental killing of the Winchesters’ mother Mary.

Dean and Sam conspire to trick and lock away the soulless infant Nephilim in a mystical coffin as punishment with the intention of finding a solution that will end his life. Sam is the reluctant main player in this scheme of using his influence over the child in order to gain his trust and sway him into his fate. Just before Jack’s about to be led to the room and put into the box, scared and uncertain, Sam then puts his hand on his shoulder telling him they need to keep him safe while giving him an awkward grin. And look at Jack’s expression as this happens. It reads shattered. He immediately knows something’s wrong. Sam is touching him just like Castiel…except this is nothing like Castiel. His dad’s shoulder touches are always so tender and loving. 

Jack can literally feel Cas’s devotion for him in every tangibility. But here he doesn’t feel that from Sam at all. Its cold, fearful and empty just like he is on the inside. Rendering him even more nervous. Speaking of season 14 the father/son content we get between Castiel and Jack is even better that year as its all about their relationship growing and strengthening into something far deeper than it was in the previous seasons 12 and 13. It’s the year their bond is put through the ultimate test. Where Jack is made human after Lucifer steals his grace and Cas dominantly steps into his role as a father.  

Providing Jack with a certain guidance, boundaries, and stability in episodes 14x01, 14x02, 14x03, 14x09 and 14x10 unlike what he’d received from Sam and Dean. Castiel takes on all the difficult tasks of parenting ranging from scolding to teaching his son about death, responsibility, self-restraint, patience and the tribulations of growing up. He doesn’t raise his voice ever when he speaks to Jack. And is completely there 100% for his son from the beginning…and the end of his life. Although Castiel is an angel he is very much a pivotal link to Jack’s humanity and vice versa as well as a link to his celestial side. While he greatly admires and looks up to the Winchesters, its through Cas’s influence that the infant Nephilim aspires to be a good person. 

Jack never wants to become the monster his biological father was; desperate to break out of that mold once in for all. And he isn’t alone. Castiel is right there with Jack every step of the way. Ready to challenge and encourage his son whenever he does something decent or makes a mistake. He doesn’t hesitate to tell his son when he’s proud of him. And sometimes he’s there to coddle Jack during times of crisis as displayed in the 14x09 showdown with AU!Michael where the angel takes a second to heal Jack’s minor facial wounds. I just love that tiny focal point of Cas in the background, as the Winchesters are talking, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder before using his powers on him. As if to keep him calm; like a parent reassuring their nervous kid that it won’t hurt.

Throughout the first part of season 14 we’re blessed with so much affectionate Dadstiel moments like the after-the-battle angst talk in 14x01 where Castiel reminds a very frustrated Jack “you’ve got me” as he declares he has nothing. Or 14x08 after Jack’s death and they’re bittersweetly reunited in Heaven with Kelly; all smiles, touching shoulders and hugging each other as if they can’t bear to be separated. Followed with that heartfelt moment of Castiel tenderly touching his son’s cheeks, sadly looking at him with so much adoration, as he sends his soul back to his body. Then there was their unforgettable father/son pep talk in regards to the vulnerability of Jack’s soul; Castiel just gives his son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he leaves the room. Again, this is how these two say “I love you”.

And I couldn’t very go in depth of this analysis without mentioning 14x20′s Jack death scene 2.0; Castiel helplessly touches his son, who’s screaming on the ground in agony, trying desperately to ease his suffering. Yah this was particularly very hard for me to watch witnessing Castiel going out of his mind, completely unable to save Jack from enduring such a painful end to his life. Once was already cruel enough on me. And of course 15x01 continued that vicious trend of Castiel harrowingly protecting his son’s corpse, carrying him over the shoulder in a fireman’s hold as he runs through the cemetery, then gently lays him down on the floor in a mausoleum. I get emotional watching Cas cradling Jack’s head as he positions him comfortably; letting his touch linger unable to let go. He doesn’t even care what happens to him in this moment as long as his son’s body is safe. Very strong symbolism of a parent who will never abandon their child long after they’re gone. 

On a side note I want to quickly call attention to how much I revere the Dadstiel healing parallels in 14x09 and 14x14 plus BONUS: Jack almost-killing Castiel in 15x13 so he can talk to Ruby in the Empty. These just add some nice little textures in their dynamic which compliments their ongoing tradition of showing devotion through physical communication. And both the healing scenes and the temporary death scene are composited very similarly. Focused on Castiel and Jack’s hands in the process of relieving the other’s pain/life. 

Touch is exhibited as being a very crucial element for both of these characters when it comes to their iron-clad relationship. That palpable part of Castiel and Jack’s connection keeps them closely-knit. Its their familial instinct and how they express their feelings for each other. If they aren’t kneading shoulders, the angel duo is often standing beside each other or firmly linked at the arms. And this usually happens during moments of extreme stress, joy, sorrow, pain or fear. Jack relies so much on Castiel’s parental presence. He respects his authority, disobeying only when his actions feel necessary, and will go to the angel whenever he wants to talk or vent. Jack is also comfortable with Castiel enough to confide his darkest secrets no matter how awful they are. That’s the foundation of the everlasting trust built between them. They’re just tethered to one another in such a way that nothing will divide them. 

I’ll begin with the hospital scene from 14x07 where Castiel is being the rock to his ailing son who can barely stand on his feet. There’s so much anxiety radiating off him in this moment as he struggles with watching Jack suffer; holding him so close. Staring at his face you can tell this horrible situation is ripping him apart. Actually, the entire episode is basically just Castiel silently enduring the pain of Jack dying.

The second set of screencaps underneath are of 14x10; Jack is agitated by AU!Michael’s antagonistic claims that his family’s love for him isn’t unconditional. Reading into one of his greatest fears. But then Castiel instantly calls out to his son, grabs the crook of his arm; gently reassuring him none of this is true. And Jack doesn’t resist this as he knows his dad is sincere. He never has to question Cas’s feelings towards him as his physical touch alone is self-explanatory. But when it comes to the Winchesters, that’s a whole other conversation.    

Next, we have one of my favorite emotionally-charged Dadstiel moments in 14x14; where in a fit of panic because the anti venom wasn’t working Jack, going against Castiel’s warnings not to risk burning off his soul, is compelled to use his powers to save his dad. And I love this because this time its Jack who’s the one initiating all the physical contact. Just as the recovered angel demands what he’s done, his son responds with a soft “you’re okay” and the “I love you dad” shoulder touch as well as firmly gripping his arm.  

Finally stepping away from season 14 I’m going to briefly go over the caps from season 15. Let’s begin with 15x11 the Dadstiel reunion scene at the church which is so beautifully poignant. Castiel is so overjoyed to see Jack alive that he takes a second to look over his equally stunned son, touching his shoulders before they embrace. This is by far one of Cas and Jack’s top father/son moments on the show and it’s done so effectively. If you want a more in-depth description for what I love about this scene, you can read my post about it here.

After that is the 15x13 Dadstiel moment where Castiel, suspicious of Jo’s story about the Occultum, had asked Jack to temporarily kill him in order to go see Ruby in the Empty. Two things I really like about this; 1. even though Jack still doesn’t have a soul, is very concerned about and protective over Castiel because of that deal. And 2. again Jack is initiating all the touching in this scene; look at the way he grasps his dad’s arm as he returns him to life. It’s almost as if he’s hoping the touch of his hand will not only speed up the process but also reach his dad so his essence isn’t lost forever.   

And then we have 15x17. We didn’t get much Dadstiel interaction in this episode but the amount of times Castiel protectively holds onto his agonized child, who’d been turned into a cosmic bomb about to go off any minute, having no regard for the danger he’s in is so visually gut-wrenching. There’s a specific moment in the scene where, as Sam and Dean are arguing, Castiel is sitting on the floor just clutching Jack tight. Trying to non-verbally soothe him.

And this is followed up in the first half of 15x18, aka THEIR VERY LAST EPISODE TOGETHER ever on Supernatural. Here is where everything about their connection comes full circle with Castiel refusing to abandon Jack no matter the situation. Demonstrating the extent of his devotion by willing to die for his child just as he’d sacrificed his happiness to save Jack from the Empty. Because that is his son and nothing not even death itself can ever destroy what they have. Much as the young Nephilim boy begs for his dad to stay away, yells that he doesn’t want to hurt him; Castiel kneeling to Jack’s eye-level doesn’t leave his side. Then when Jack disappears to the Empty and reappears back at the bunker reformed, Castiel’s hand remains firmly glued to his son’s shoulder. He doesn’t want Jack to feel afraid or traumatized any further.

This was such an intense part of the episode I mean just look at how stressed out these two were. The anguish in their expressions. Simply put, Cas and Jack cannot bare to live without the other. They’re each other’s home; two sides of the same soul. Castiel loves all of Jack; the good, the bad and the ugly. This is an EPIC father and son’s love that knows no bounds. So powerful and pure that it transcended the loss of Jack’s soul, Lucifer’s DNA, the Empty, Mary Winchester’s death and everything else in between. Oh, and guess what, their “I love you” Dadstiel shoulder touches aren’t limited to just their hands. Its in every single one of their hugs too.  

Notice how their chins or faces just comfortably rest on top of each other’s shoulders. And except for 14x20 their eyes are shut, as if to savor every single second of that closeness. Jack just buries himself against Castiel like he’s never felt safer with anyone else in the whole universe. And both of them hold each other; giving and receiving the other’s love with their whole self. Like I can’t even begin to describe how much Castiel and Jack’s softness towards each other just melts my heart. Their relationship, despite the horror tongue-in-cheek atmosphere of SPN, is surprisingly sweet, healthy and endearing. They are the epitome of true unconditional love and a great contrast to the Winchester brothers. In my humble opinion Castiel and Jack’s father/son dynamic is the best thing to happen to this show in a long while.

For the closing segment of this analysis I want to do something special before I discuss the paralleled-angst driven Dadstiel shoulder touches in 15x15 and 15x18. First off, I can’t shout enough praise from the rooftops about the insanely remarkable chemistry between Alexander Calvert and Misha Collins. Just brilliant casting. They embody these characters heart and soul and make this relationship feel so real, genuine and grounded. The fact that they look so similar in appearance really sells the idea that these two could actually be father and son. Forget the scripts, the quiet subtly these two bring to Castiel and Jack is the true magic of their relationship.

Let me start with the Dadstiel centric 15x15 aka THE BEST EPISODE of Supernatural season 15. This amazing masterpiece of art is everything I could’ve asked for and more; giving me so much precious father/son content that I will cherish forever. I really enjoyed seeing Castiel and Jack in those matching ties, bonding with each other over a case while they save the day. It’s a shame this show never let these two have more solo adventures together because they’re truly a joy to watch onscreen. Fingers crossed for that spinoff.

But I digress, the car scene in question happens at the very end of the episode in which Jack reveals the alarming truth that he has to die in order to stop Chuck and Amara. And Castiel, visibly and outspokenly distraught by this news, has to be assuaged with that infamous shoulder touch by his son; who’s in just as much pain. This is without a doubt one of most emotional scenes between these two characters out of the last three seasons of the show and quite possibly one of Misha and Alex’s strongest acting moments after the Dadstiel church reunion in 15x11. They killed it with the feels here. I like the attention to detail, the shadows and the colors in the shot, the melancholic score as well as how it seamlessly switches from Jack’s perspective to Castiel’s. Seriously watching this scene always makes me cry its so devastating.

 Lastly, we have the Dadstiel car scene in 15x18; and Castiel and Jack’s LAST ONE-ON-ONE together. I’m kind of disappointed by this if I’m being honest. Its not that its bad its just not that definitively great for a final scene between these characters. Especially after four seasons of development. Where are the stakes? Why don’t Jack and Castiel seem as concerned about their situation? Cute as that smile was it doesn’t fit the tone. And where’s that punch in the gut knowing something is going to separate these two any second? It’s too light and doesn’t come off like a goodbye or a cathartic bookend which is what I wanted to take away from the episode considering its title “Despair”.

I mean if they were going to follow up on that heartbreaking car scene at the end of “Gimme Shelter”, the 15x18 scene wasn’t the way to do it. So, the weight of this final interaction feels almost non-existent. Maybe if it had taken place at night and the dialogue solely focused on them not the Winchesters it would’ve faired better. But since this isn’t a rant post I’ll cut to the chase by saying that the only saving grace this moment has happens in the last part. Jack’s in tears telling his dad how scared he is that he can’t use his powers to protect anyone. Coming off very childlike and vulnerable; needing that parental protection that Castiel was always known for. And sure enough, he gives Jack that final “I love you” shoulder touch which I swear had me choked a little. 

Rethinking about it now that the show is over actually makes their final moment together really sad as incomplete as it is. I not only look back on how much these characters were drastically underutilized but how much the Dadstiel storyline could’ve been executed better with all the development that it was given. Well there you have it my full Dadstiel shoulder-touch analysis. Hope you’ve enjoyed!