#bobbys trauma coming to bite him in the ASS

[buck-up-buck]

In this post right here I made some crazy predictions about the next four episodes of 9-1-1.

Now I am not saying that they are all correct, BUT I SLAYED the first part legitimately. I fully predicted that Bobby would first meet the Burn Unit Nurse in the hospital after dropping a patient off.

*as per this still we were blessed with today*

NOW, I also predicted a full blown revenge era on behalf of the Burn Unit Nurse which I think we can gather is going to happen thanks to the sneak peek of him chatting to Maddie, I’m assuming nearing the end of the episode.

“The only person responsible is the driver. The rest of us are just cleaning up his mess.”

NOW, I am going to rightfully assume that it was in fact HIM who was in the fire (hence the burns) BUT, I also stand by the fact that he lost someone in that fire. A fiancé or a wife, this is my guess, as per my original post. I am using the line in which he says-

“Although there’ll be days when she probably wished she hadn’t (survived)”

Because it’s one thing surviving something like that fire, but to have lost someone in it too while recovering…

ANYWAY-

My upcoming theories are as follows, take them with a pinch of salt because they may seem very AO3 of me, but I was right about the above so, who knows, right? RIGHT?!

1. Maddie potentially talks about the 118 and their involvement in the accident, triggering something in the nurse to potentially target Buck… again, THIS IS VERY FAR FETCHED BUT YA GURL HAS BEEN DREAMING ABOUT BUCKS LOFT BURNING DOWN SINCE 2019 OKAY, LET ME DREAM.

2. Bobby recognises the Nurse but doesn’t know where from, and the nurse choices not to tell him he knows who he is.

3. We get a flashback of some sort when he see’s Bobby walking into the hospital with the Baby. Either from Bobby or the Nurse, OR a flashback in general triggered by either seeing one or the other.

4. In next week’s episode, Bobby tries to ask him for forgiveness and they have a massive argument. This could potentially be the conflict that Kenneth mentioned Bobby gets into in Episode 8.

5. Athena is worried about Bobby’s involvement with the Nurse and warns him, because she a protective QUEEN.

Anyway… am I crazy or a psychic? You decide.

[queenhellwitch]

the angry one

Sam is emotionally intelligent and can't hide his feelings from his own eyeballs, but I actually think he's more repressed than Dean. He encourages Dean to open up, but Dean won’t share with his little brother, because it’s his job to be strong. However - Dean does share, with other people. And he punches heads in, shoots the crap out of stuff, he drinks beer, he gets laid. He cries and gets angry and violent, and he takes it out on people. He’s very emotionally expressive.

Sam, on the other hand, keeps it all in. Half a laugh, half a cursory smile, the endless “I’m fine!”s… The only time he really opens up and starts to talk about what he actually experienced, is to Rowena. He doesn’t even get to have a go at Chuck, in the same way Dean does. Even when he shoots Chuck, it literally bites back. Sam lives a life of self-flagellation and penance, and when he dares to allow himself any action, reaction or even pleasures, his decisions always come with a ton of guilt. Even when he’s right.

Jared does an amazing job of showing us his true emotions with just his eyeballs, but nailing the very obvious repression. It’s amazing, really.

Yet - guess who gets accused of being angry, self-righteous, hubristic and selfish, by the fandom, by so many people in the show, and even labelled “not exactly Mr Anger Management” by his own father figure? That boy was actually too good at managing his anger. But he’ll never be viewed that way, because he’s already been put in that pigeonhole with his family. He always was the “deep little son of a bitch”. Bobby says John would rather “push Sam away than reach out to him.” Kids who are hard to understand end up being difficult. As if being a teenager isn't a ragey experience in itself. John's fear? Was it because of the evil in his veins? Or just because he was stubborn? Because he yelled at his dad? He stood his ground against the abuse, he ran away, he went to college despite being disowned for it?

In Mystery Spot, Sam is without Dean for six months and he goes psychotically revenge-driven. He cuts himself off from all other humans, and he stews in his own anger. Yet when he’s faced with the Trickster, it’s clear that despite his obvious emotions, this is a man fully in control when he needs to be. I think we forget this, when the same thing happens again at the end of Season 7. A Sam without Dean is not a stable person. Add all the hell trauma he’s suffered and the loss of Bobby – the father figure who never saw him outside that pigeonhole of ‘the angry one’ – Sam is completely alone, and not by choice.

Again, he could easily be angry. He has every right to be raving mad and on a destructive revenge trip, like he did in season 4. When Dean and Cas disappear to purgatory, he chooses to not be angry. He chooses not to be hubristic this time; because where did that get him before? Actual hell, actually. Against all that we know about Sam, and his love for his brother, he controls himself, he chooses to step away, from a dismal fucking world that only seems to bite him, and his loved ones, on the ass - no matter what he does. So he removes himself. He just drives (and then later becomes unhinged because that's my headcanon lmao).

And it turns out that was wrong too. He never gets across to Dean or to anyone else what his thought processes were, though, and nobody ever really knows the real Sam, the one who leaks through when the emotions are dialled down, when they can finally both just rest. It breaks my heart.

[asterixer]

Awww Jace is so adorableeeeeeeee!

Question! Is he the type to put his own well-being on hold to help others? That’s the vibes I’m getting a little bit but maybe I’m wrong?

And yeah Mason has had my heart (and my detective’s) since day 1.

She’s also on the ex-Bobby route- and usually goes for Verda’s!

Tho I’ve had her go through Tina’s for a bit (and at first I was like heyo matchmaker for our bestie but my detective is super protective so she doesn’t really trust Adriana -or Adrian- yet) was Jace cool with the agent they sent for Tina?

She’s actually is also confused as hell with her feelings for M (tee-hee), she is used to casual flings (which is why she kissed Bobby in B2 oops 🫣) and does not know what her feelings for M are (well she kind of does but is pushing them away in good ol’ Adam fashion -oh god I’ve become what I dread the most-) !

My initial thoughts were “I will make this mf confess to my detective no matter what it takes” so she will definitely not be the first one to confess for that sweet drama :P but I also loooved Mason’s change in B3, especially during the shower scene, that got me feeling things 🥺

So Jace gets along with Rebecca? Oooh what’s their dynamic like? Is Jace alright with the secrets? :0 How does he feel about not being a detective anymore?

Theo is actually on the Rebecca hate train (naw I’m joking ahshsb).

She definitely loves her mom but it’s…complicated. Since she was usually alone a lot she came to resent Rebecca, especially with the whole supernatural thing, it did not help things. They used to (and still do) fight a lot, but I do plan to make their dynamic a bit friendlier in these next books- kinda build the relationship up again yknow? Rn she’s just dealing with a lot (post-Murphy- how did Jace do with that btw? Did he get bitten? And how’s he dealing with the aftermath?)

Sorry if I’m rambling a lot or asking a lot of questions tell me if it’s too much ahshsh

If you don’t mind I’d totally be up to ramble on messages, but if not it’s cool as well!

Mmm... It's situational, I'd say, in that he would be impulsive enough to risk his own safety to help someone else. But overall, he's a people-savvy person, so he knows it's also important to look after himself as well. Except, you know, all that untreated trauma from Murphy lmfaooo. That stuff he just kinda puts it to the side when he can - except it comes back to bite him in the ass sometimes and he still gets the occasional nightmares & chills when he thinks about it. He has the mental and physical scars (he got bit on the wrist) as mementos 😂

I actually did the Tina route with a different detective and he does NOT like that they sent an agent to watch Tina. Does NOT trust this agent. I actually was not a fan of Tina's route at this point myself (prior to this I loved it) so I haven't done it more than once. Couldn't say if Jace would be cool with it or not.

Jace is glad she told him, but wishes she'd told him much much earlier. He's not a fan of secrets, even if he understands (now being in the position he is) why she felt they were necessary. He's just glad he has his mom back, but he's holding her accountable for not keeping anymore secrets.

BWAHAHA GET HIM TO CONFESS FIRST, YESSSS...it's what he deserves. The friend that introduced me to TWC was banking on me either choosing A or M as my favourite & I have to say M does NOT disappoint. It's about that growth 👁️👁️

I LOVE ANSWERING QUESTIONS, I just hope I'm being thorough enough ahahha

We can definitely DM though ✌️ might be a little easier I think

[zepskies]

Hello, my lovely! I was so excited to see you get to this chapter. (First "meeting," sort of lol!)

[Job clarity]: Girl, you'll get there. I'm technically in my "career" and even then, I'm not completely where I want to be lol. It's a process for sure!

...the fact that she hopes to find her soulmate. While on the other hand, he knows about her in a way, and he had the chance to reach out to her...

Yep, there in lies the crux of the conflict, pain, and misery of these beginning chapters lol.

[Her bitch ass boss]: I know. 🙄 She's a Meryl wannabe, ain't she? But while our girl might be too sweet to spit in her coffee, she most definitely got her decaf instead of regular. Whoospies! 🤭 Professors who treat their interns like slaves deserve the crusty gum under the desk imo.

Ehhh her dad's not shitty per say. Let's just say, he's got issues but he's trying his best lol. (You'll see.)

Oh I actually haven't seen the Vampire Diaries!! But I freakin love a 69 Camaro, and I thought it would make sense for Bobby to rescue one for her loll. Her relationship with Bobby has its own arc in this story, don't worry! Bobby and Rufus are two of my absolute faves. 😂

If Sam never went with Dean, and was home with Jess, then would she still have died?

Ahh it's tough to say. Yellow Eyes/Azazel had demon spies throughout his life, including Brady. It's possible that the demon would've found another way to kill Jess, unfortunately.

Awh he’s so sweet and fatherly 🥹🫶

He absolutely is! And this is a man who thought he'd be a terrible father because of how he was abused by his own. It truly breaks my heart.

Nah just your soulmate who you avoided, no biggie at all 🤙

None at all. 😂 😂 I actually borrowed this "thoughts/feelings" soulmate AU idea from another fic I read in Stark Trek fandom, but I added my little embellishments here and there with how the bond "feels" and how they each visualize it in their minds. I'm so glad you're enjoying it!!

Dean you sly motherfucker 🤣

Would you expect anything less from him? 🤣🤣

ITS ALWAYS THE JOHNS!!

It 100% always is the goddamn Johns/Jons. 😂😂 In this case, I sympathize with John Winchester, but ultimately he fucked up majorly bro. And fucked his sons up in the process. But what parents don't give their children some form of trauma? 🫠

Aww Dean's not gonna up and leave her, but John's words are going to come back to bite every now and then, feeding into Dean's desire to protect the people he cares about.

Love getting your feedback on this story! Can't wait to see what you think of the rest! ❤️❤️

Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”      

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary. 

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.   

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.  

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.   

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.  

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

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[jacobscustos]

the quarry but every character has a different role

jacob is now in max's shoes. distressed dogboy that loves naught but his gf and also processed snack foods. this sad little woof woof finding a crop top and yoga pants and being like "oh hell yeah i can make this work" only to get murked by kaylee hackett on the other side of the island

emma is now in laura's position. she broke up with jacob the day before they managed to escape chris hackett's Jail for Dogs & Ne'er-Do-Wells and now she feels like she needs to alleviate his curse bc he's been pretty bummed out since. vlogging her entire trip to the hackett house with the expressed intent to murder a man

ryan is in abi's role. the suave announcements boy has been on his mind this entire time and the day that they both finally tell each other that they like each other, he gets infected with Says Really Mean Things And Attempts Homicide On You And Also Is A Werewolf disease. he's abt to start biting ppl fr

dylan is in a similar situation to nick. not only did abi just kiss him for no real reason at the firepit but finally when he tells the guy he's liked all summer that he likes him, he gets attacked by a fucking bear??? homophobia still has some shooters out there apparently! also he's saying rude things he doesn't mean and it hurts :(

abi is now filling emma's role. she and the cute australian guy have been flirting all summer but she seriously misfires bc she assumes that making him jealous would be what made him want to make things official. plus now she's wearing baggy-ass clothes and running from murderous animals(?) so things have been tough lately

nick is currently in jacob's situation. he planned on making tonight the night he asked abi to go steady, but completely forgot that this was the day they left camp, so he oopsie poopsies the van. whoops nick you did a fucky wucky and now people are dying! also he had to watch abi kiss a very vehemently gay man to make him jealous and also he's naked. bad night overall buddy

laura is in kaitlyn's shoes. she's literally the only person here with an okay response to trauma, although a bit skewed since she does also tend to shoot at the problem first. the bright side is that she gets to be with her boyfriend for most of the entire night, so that's neat! (and come on of course she would get after max for not knowing the hackett's quarry song)

max is now in dylan's role. he's mostly just scared shitless of kaitlyn so the speech over the intercom is part fear of the bears(?) and part fear that kaitlyn will stab him if he gets the terminology wrong. ready to lay down his life to protect his gf, even if he's abt to turn into a werewolf. he's gonna react even more severely to getting maced (febreezed) by abi though, although he can act. give the boy a hand (srsly he needs it)

kaitlyn stands where ryan stood in canon. she's so confused when abi gives her the dare to kiss either max or laura but honestly she thinks they're both cute so. when emma shows up she's like "wait where's jacob?" and emma's like "about that" and kaitlyn's like "ok so i'm going to go save my bestie and i want it known that i'm not a fan of u but i also do think you're gorgeous"

bobby now owns and runs hackett's quarry. after his duty was up, he came back and started the camp and has adored being a mentor to kids since. no one at camp ever saw him angry before the incident with the van and they're all literally terrified of him now

chris is the sheriff of northkill. he got appointed sheriff after the death of the previous sheriff in the fire at eliza's sideshow, and has taken the position very seriously, in exchange for keeping eliza and silas's secret (the whole werewolf thing), which is why he keeps jacob and emma over the summer

travis is constance and eliza's handyman. he's felt the need to be worthy of approval since birth, and has taken up to doing the dirty work for his mom as a way of proving himself. he's fully aware that being stabbed hurts and will do it again unprovoked

constance goes out hunting with travis. she fills the same role her husband did in canon. emma reminds her what happened to her husband and she threatens to torture her endlessly. also there's smth going on with eliza but idk they're gal pals

eliza fills the same role as constance did in canon. after the fire that burned down her sideshow and killed jedediah, constance offered to let her and her son silas stay with them. after emma kills silas during the night, she becomes silent with rage

kaylee is now the biggest threat of the hackett werewolves. she's filling in for her brother caleb. freeze-dried girlboss

silas is floating in the pool now. rip dogboy. also he was the one that convinced kaylee to start the fire. manipulative little shit

caleb is patient zero. after helping to rescue silas and eliza from the sideshow, caleb notices a bite on his leg. while running from the flames, the "dog man" (eliza's ex-husband) bit him. the dog man died in the fire, but the curse lived on, as caleb left his grandfather to die in the chaos

jedediah's taken up tarot since dying. he cursed his bloodline after seeing caleb and kaylee among the flames, refusing to save him, opting instead to save an albino boy and a woman that he barely knew. he's now trying to convince whoever is listening to off the vorez family, even at the cost of his own family. plus lance hendriksen would fucking slay this role i mean come on

[abbatoirablaze]

TM Tragedy, Season 2, Chapter 11

Word Count:  2.8k

Warnings:  aggression/violent acts, getting jumped, being shivved, mentions of past trauma

Jax’s POV

Aryans put out the word," I said, "us white boys are on our own.

"Yeah," Bobby said, joining in, "That's Zobelle tapping into those shot callers."

Clay sat down at the table by us, "Rosen thinks the case is being tied up. Be a while before it sees a court room."

"Without a color crew we ain't gonna make it to trial," Happy said, looking around. He didn't like our odds, “we’ll be picked off.”

Clay looked at me, "yeah, well this heard can use a little thinning."

"It's not his fault we're in here."

He looked at Bobby, "so what? It's mine?"

"We all voted on it," Bobby said, trying to be the voice of reason, “after Cain and Chibs, we-“

"Well I'm working on getting us some friends," Clay said, getting up. He went over to the niners and started talking to a bigger guy. A few minutes later he was back, "he'll talk to us tomorrow. Said he's gotta run it through Laroy."

The day couldn't go quick enough. Soon enough we were back in the cell block. I felt like I had to watch my back from every angle. I tried to go to sleep around 10 or 11, but I couldn't. But it wasn't because of the guys still talking. Every time I closed my eyes, I went back to that night. A week and a half ago. Mikey had called.

She was crying.

She was begging for me to come back.

I shouldn't have let Clay take my phone. I should have grabbed it and found out what was wrong.

It was another restless night.

The next day during rec time Clay talked with the niners. He came back saying we had to get him 2 snitches, and we'd have someone watching our asses.

"I put Opie on the tranny snitch. Gonna use Trammel to set her up."

"Opies doing it alone?"

Clay looked at me, "We are a little busy."

"Then tap another charter."

Clay glared at me. I didn't break the stare off, "hey here's an idea. Why don't you get Hale to help?"

"Alright," Bobby said, cutting in, "What about the other one."

"He's over there in PC," Clay said. Then he nodded over to Juice, "and he's got a thing for Puerto Rican wood."

"Ahhh," Bobby sighed, "Juice bait."

"You're okay with this?" I asked, "you okay explaining it to Mandy if shit goes sideways?"

"Yeah," Clay said, "we gotta lure Dion to some place Russell's crew can get to him. Nothing will happen to Juice. Jax, set it up. I'll let our black daddies know it's all in motion."

He got up and began making his way to an edge of the yard so he could make a call to Ope. I started for where Dion was.

"Must be lonely up there, huh?"

He looked at me, "Do I know you blondie?"

"I'm new on the block," I admitted, "Clay."

"Dion," he replied. He looked me up and down, "smoke?"

I nodded and he tossed it over.

"Thanks."

"That face and body," he said, eyeing me up, "it'd get you a lot of uh...store credit."

"I appreciate the offer man," I said with a laugh. I pointed to Bobby, "but I belong to him. The fat guy with the beard."

He shook his head, "no accounting for taste."

"I got other revenue," I said quickly, "short, pretty one. Stupid hair cut."

Dion whistled, and smiled, "ab-so-lutely do able."

"Fifty credit."

"Thirty," Dion responded, a little too quick, "Need a test drive."

"I'll make sure he's tuned up. Where?"

"Infirmary."

I nodded and walked over to the guys. Juice was doing sit ups. Bobby was holding his feet, "up. Just get it off the bench."

"How you doin beautiful?" Tig asked, coming over with Clay and Hap.

Juice sat up, "what?"

"We uh...we need you to take one for the club," Clay said with a smile, “be a good kid for us.”

"Oh shit."

"Snitch over there finds you very appealing."

"Gotta get him out of PC for the family," Bobby explained, "it buys us protection."

"Get him out how?"

"Same way you got my daughter knocked up."

Bobby began to sing what was supposed to be a melody he'd get laid to.

"Oh come on are you serious."

"Nothing's gonna happen," I said, trying to calm him down, "you're just bait. Black will jump before he bites."

"Well," Tig smirked, "we hope."

"50/50 shot you wind up with no dick up your ass."

"What?"

He looked afraid.

"I arranged a meet at the PC infirmary," I said, "you gotta distract Dion. Unlock the guard gate, let in Russell's crew, and it'll be apiece of cake."

"How do I get there?"

I nodded at Tig, and Bobby put a hand on his shoulder to try and catch him for the punch Tig was about to throw. He got him right in the kidney.

"GUARD!"

I smiled at Hap. He chuckled.

"Jesus Christ," Juice cried, "I think you cracked my rib."

"I know," he sighed, feigning sorrow, "I'm sorry. Call it a congratulations present for becoming a father."

We waited until the guard had taken Juice away before I turned to Tig, "you didn't have to hit him that hard." 

He shrugged, "Clay told me not to pull the punch.  He had one call and he didn't call Mandy.  She's really upset brother." 

"Clay made him call Rosen," I laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder.  Tig turned back to Clay who had a devilish grin on his face. 

"Oh come on, you made me crack the dumbasses rib for nothing?" 

"Wasn't for nothing," Clay laughed, "you made me smile." 

Juice’s POV

I sat in the infirmary and all I could think about how fucked I was. I hope Russells' crew showed up. I am not down to get fucked in the ass by some big black guy.

I took a few deep breaths and looked around.

The knock is what set me off.

Shit.

He's here.

I went over to the door and let him in, "hi. How you doin. Juice."

Dion came in and put his hand on either side of me, "why yes you are."

"Right," I said, ducking under his arm. I turned around and showed him the condoms. Giving a half nervous smile.

"You come prepared," he grinned, “I like that.”

"Oh yeah. I like to be responsible you know." I said with a laugh. I gave an honest laugh there, thinking about my pregnant girlfriend.

Yeah...you're really careful.

"Good for you Juicy," he grinned. I started walking over to the bed and I felt him grabbing my ass, “you’re a tight little thing, aren’t you?

"Yeah..." I said, trying to change subject and get some time on my side, "wow...this is a lot nicer than gen pop."

"It's a little more intimate."

"That too," I admitted, looking towards the door. No one, "yeah.."

"Have a seat."

He patted the bed, and then walked behind me, patting my ass. I turned, but Dion began to whistle and went behind me. He started rubbing my back. My current 'predicament' began to feel more tense.

"You sore baby?"

I nodded, trying to pretend I was with Mandy, "yeah. A little."

I felt his hand snake around to try and grab me.

It didn't feel right. The body against mine was too big. The hand, too masculine. It made me sick to my stomach. I shifted away from him.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart."

"I'm not," I lied, "I uh. You mind if we uh move this to the bathroom? Little more private?" He smiled, "sure baby."

"I'm sort of shy."

He moaned, and I cringed.

"I'd like to get down to...business."

Dion walked past me and I dropped the condoms on the bed. I followed him into the bathroom. He dropped his pants and began to stroke himself. One hand on his chest, the other on his member.

"Just let me grab the condoms real quick...just."

I went over to the bed and tried to buy more time. When I looked at the door I smiled. Russell and his crew were there.

"Come on honey," Dion growled, "let's get this DONE!"

"Oh we're comin," one of the guys from Russells' crew said.

They stormed the bathroom, and I heard Dion recognize the fact that this was all a trap. Another one of the guys in the family turned to me, thanking me, "you got anything you wanna get out?"

I nodded, "got a phone so I can call my girl?"

"I gotchu man," he nodded. I quickly walked away to the guard outside PC's infirmary.  I didn't notice him following me until he handed the guard a $20, "he needs a call." 

The guard nodded, and waited until he left.  He pulled out his keys and led me to a storage room for the infirmary, "second cabinet, buried in the gauze." 

He was gone and I bolted for the cabinet.  I smiled when I saw the phone.  I dialed the number and waited.  It felt like forever, "hello?" 

"Baby," I smiled, hardly able to contain my excitement, "baby it's me." 

"Juice?" 

I nodded, and then realized she wouldn't be able to see me nodding, "yeah." 

"How are you...what did you do to....baby?" 

I smiled so hard I felt like my face would split open, "we've got someone watching our asses.  I'm fine.  I just wanted to say I love you...and I miss you.  And I'm the biggest dumbass in the world for not agreeing with you." 

I could hear her sigh on the line.  

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," she sighed, "I just...I wish you were home with me...I feel so lost without you." 

"You're not alone though.  You have the baby...and Rizario...and your mom and sister." 

"Juan Carlos, there's something I need to tell you." 

The door opening shocked me, and I put the phone in my pocket.  The guard looked at me, "time's up, inmate." 

"I just need one mor-" 

"No."  He held out his hand and I pulled the phone back out. 

"I gotta go baby.  I love you." 

"I love you too J-" 

She began.  But I didn't get to hear the rest of it.  The guard snatched the phone out of my hands and snapped it shut.  I tried to push away the anger from what he'd just done, but I was so happy to get to speak to Mandy, I quickly forgave it.  

"You ready to go?"

I nodded. He handed me a new set of clothes, and we began to walk to the yard. When we got out I saw the guys. I felt the joy in my chest erupt into a smile, and I gave them a thumbs up. They were a little far into the yard, but I started making my way to em.

God damn AB started blocking my way, and finally a big guy came up and shoved me.

A stabbing pain ripped into my back.

Then another.

Everyone was yelling and screaming. I could see Jax rushing towards me.

"Get it out," I yelled, "get it out."

"GUARD!"

"Come on man," Tig said, pulling me into his arms, "I got ya brother."

I felt some pressure on my back, and one of the guys ripped the shivs out of me.

"SHIT!"

I kept screaming as they put their shirts over my wounds. The guards and Jax tried to get me out. I screamed in pain, and suddenly everything went dark.

Mandy’s POV

"Come with me?"

"What?"

"I'm taking Abel. Hopefully I can appeal to Oswald that way," she said simply, "maybe if he sees that we are every bit a family as he is, he'll feel something."

"It feels a little dirty, mom."

"Fine," she shrugged, "don't."

She went to get up, but I couldn't let her leave without me. Lord knows all the world needs is her trying to blackmail Oswald...then I'd never see dad, or Juice...or Tig...or even Jax again. We made the short stop at Jaxs' house to pick up Abel. Neeta was happy to get a reprieve. Especially when I told her that we were going to the church.

Mom immediately saw him, and went to work, like an eagle on her prey. I sat down and listened to the choir. It was beautiful. When Tristan saw me she smiled. When choir broke and everyone packed up, she sat next to me.

"It's good to see you outside of group."

I smiled, "it's nice to be out."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm surviving," I said, trying to think of positive things to say, "I can't complain."

"Can I ask something?"

I nodded.

"You told us at group the other day you're pregnant...is it..."

I shook my head, "no. It uhm, it's my boyfriends...we didn't mean to have sex when we did...but honestly I'm glad I did. He-he was my first."

She nodded, thinking about her own experiences. I put a hand on her shoulder. She hugged me, "I know that it was you that did that...thank you."

I pulled away, "what?"

"I overheard your dad talking to my dad not too long ago about the knife...and the package that showed up the day after he..."she began, putting pieces together. She cut herself off and started looking around, "anyways...I know that when middle school hit we kind of stopped being friends...it felt like it anyways...thank you for caring about me."

"It's kind of weird we're in a similar boat," I said, musing on our recent history, "who would have thought something so horrible brought us back together."

She gave me a sympathetic smile, "I'm going to talk to my dad tonight when we get him...if your mom can't convince him to do anything, maybe I can."

"I wouldn't ask that of you, Tris." 

"I want to," she said with a smile.  She put a hand on my stomach, "you've done so much to help my healing...helping bring your family back together...it's the least I can do to help yours." 

I felt a few tears come to my face and I wiped them off, "it's not nice to make a pregnant girl cry." 

She laughed and hugged me.  I hugged her back, whispering thanks and crying.  When I pulled away, I excused myself.  She said she was gonna talk to Gemma.  

I went outside and was craving a smoke.  I pulled out a cigarette, then looked down at my stomach.  I hadn't really gained any weight, so I didn't look pregnant...but I didn't want to do anything to harm the baby.  

Ever since that night when me and Juan Carlos had argued over how I was being 'self destructive' when we went to grab Tig, I hadn't been able to look him in the eye.  He was right.  

I had wanted a baby so bad, but at the first sign of trouble I just ran head first into danger...would that be a good quality for a mom? 

I was brought out of my thoughts by my cell ringing.  I didn't recognize the number but I answered it anyways, "hello." 

"Baby." 

I looked at my phone in shock.  It sounded like Juice...my breath caught in my throat, "baby it's me." 

"Juice?" 

Yeah." 

"How are you....what did you do to....baby?" 

My mind was going a million miles a minute, and had a thousand questions that I wanted to ask.  How did he get to a phone....what did he do to be able to call me? 

"We've got someone watching our asses," he said excitedly, "I'm fine...I just wanted to say I love you and I miss you....and I'm the biggest dumbass in the world for not agreeing with you." 

I sighed.  

He wasn't a dumbass.  

I was being a dumbass for thinking that he was wrong in the first place.  

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," I said, sighing again, "I just wish you were at home with me.  I feel so lost without you." 

"You're not alone though...you have the baby..and Rizario..and your mom and sister." 

I looked down at my stomach and smiled.  He was right.  I did have family.  I needed to stay strong for all of us...so that when he came home everything would be fine.

"Juan Carlos," I admitted, "There's something I need to tell you." 

I could hear a noise in the background, and suddenly everything sounded muffled on his end.  I could hear bits and pieces of the garbled conversation before it became clear again. 

"I gotta go baby, I love you." 

"I loe you too Juan Carlos..." 

The phone lit up against my face, and the call had ended.  I looked at it for another moment hoping that he was okay.  

"You expecting something?" 

I looked up to see mom staring at me.  I shook my head and put my phone away, "no..I just..." 

"Well, what is it?" 

"I miss Juice," I sighed, not wanting to fill her in on the conversation I'd just had. 

"Well if that conversation went as well as I think it did with the Oswalds, they'll be home soon. 

Chapter 12

Tag List:  @lohnes16 @evyiione

[athenagrantnash]

Athena Grant-Nash herself for that character ask thingy..

Ooh yay! Thank you anon! I was afraid that one was gonna be so obvious nobody would send it 😂

favorite thing about them: Everything I seriously love how she has managed to find this perfect balance between strong and gentle. Athena is fierce and badass and could probably kill a man with one well placed glare, but at her heart she is a woman filled with gentleness, and who probably has the biggest heart of anybody in the cast (only Maddie gives her a run for her money). She has the strength to hold her entire world together single-handedly, and the gentleness to grasp it tightly to her without breaking it.

least favorite thing about them: Well it’s not necessarily a “least favorite thing” since it’s a really really good and interesting part of her character, but… There is literally none better at compartmentalizing than Athena, she doesn’t take the horrors of the day home with her because she’s that good at separating out her work from her home. However, that ability has proven to bite her in the ass when something too personal happens. The best example is when she was attacked, and she tried so hard to compartmentalize her fear and trauma she ended up shutting Bobby out.

favorite line: Basically anything she says in Treasure Hunt, her monologue in the season 2 finale, and “It's not real. But maybe, just maybe, it can be enough. Enough for you to say good-bye. Enough for you to hear her say it's okay. Enough so that in the morning, when your head is right and your eyes are clear, you can remember that you caught a glimpse of what's around us every day. [Bobby: She's right there.] Right here, right now. You're real, I'm real. We can be real together.”

brOTP: Prior to season 4 I actually would have said Hen. But now I’m going to have to say her relationship with May is my favorite. I also have high hopes for more Maddie and Athena stuff 🥺

OTP: is this even a question? Bathena 100%! Ultimate most perfect ship. It’s literally the first and only ship that has ever bumped a ship I’ve been shipping for 20 years down to #2

nOTP: No real nOTPs over here, although if I see anybody trying to ship her with the creep that attacked her THERE WILL BE BLOOD!!!

random headcanon: Hmmmm… my brain is too tired to come up with headcanons right now… … … I do love the idea that at some point Bobby takes her to an ice skating rink to teach her how to skate, and while she does get the hang of it fairly quickly they end up spending most of the time with Bobby dancing skating on the ice while she’s content to just lean against his chest while he holds her in his arms and let him guide them over the ice together

unpopular opinion: The fact that she’s a cop does not lessen how good of a character she is in any way

song i associate with them: Rise Up by Andra Day, for probably some very obvious Athena Begins reasons

favorite picture of them: there’s too many, but this one is one of my favorites ❤️🔥

[zigtheeortega]

calm before the storm

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 2.5k

✿ warnings: loss, death, funeral – angst.

✿ author’s note: i didn’t necessarily think that bryce was written ooc, but the whole post-funeral sequence was pretty weird to me. i’m someone who copes very similarly to bryce, so i could see myself reflected in him a lot. and i thought the s*x scene was very oddly placed so, here’s me warping canon again bc i’m dissatisfied! lmao hope u enjoy <3 also this fic is very close to me emotionally – i experienced two close deaths in april and june. 

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

He blinked and he was back home. Couldn't remember how he got there. He was on autopilot and didn’t have a clue until he’d already wasted so much time. When night came, he couldn’t recall what he’d done that day.

The days between the diagnostics team finding a cure were torturous, the mere thought of not knowing what the future held – for the first time in his life – shaking him to his core.

He found himself paying close attention to Keiki. Each sarcastic quip, rude comment, or joke at his expense, he listened, soaking it up, no thoughts about the problem back in Hawaii. He whole-heartedly enjoyed her. Through one of the hardest times in his life, he was rekindling a relationship that never should’ve fallen apart.

The night he spent with Spencer, cuddled up next to her in his starchy hazmat suit, was the most daunting of them all. He was smiling and flirting with her, a little bit of his normal self shining through, but the crushing weight of his reality was distracting him.

This could be the last time that you see her smile.

God, he knew he had a killer smile of his own, but hers put the whole damn sun to shame. Her grin lit up her whole body, like every atom in her body was in it. And despite her sunken in eyes, her pale, sickly appearance, she still emitted those same infectious rays that he was eager to soak up.

This could be the last time that you hold her.

He curled himself around her, spooning her like he’d done a handful of times before. What he wouldn’t give to have a faceful of her hair again, the tropical scent so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but associate the scent of coconut with her.

This could be the last time that you feel her.

He stroked her face with a gloved hand, wishing for nothing more than to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips again. He pressed into her, hoping she could feel his warmth through the thin layer of fabric.

When her eyelids finally fluttered shut, overcome with exhaustion, his mind wandered to the possibility of it all being over.

And he couldn’t cope with that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

When the treatment worked, and both she and Rafael were cured, it was the first time in months he’d experienced genuine joy. He didn’t know what higher power out there was looking out for him, but he silently thanked the universe for looking out for her. And for putting her in his life, and decidedly keeping her there.

The funeral was too much for him.

Seeing the two caskets, sealed tight, the endless arrangements of flowers, the sea of black clothing… it was overwhelming. Foreign. Like he was intruding on something so intimate that wasn’t meant for him to see.

And the sounds. He’d never forget it. Choked sobs from every angle, constant sniffling, a sporadic wail. The atmosphere made him antsy. His suit was itchy, his shoes were uncomfortable, and he was surrounded by grief.

Both Danny and Bobby meant a lot to Edenbrook, but it was nothing compared to what Spencer meant to him.

He must’ve slipped into auto-pilot (again), because before he knew it, the funeral was over, and he was outside of her apartment.

Wordlessly, he wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo enough to bring him to tears. He was so fucking close to losing that forever. His free will to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

She invited him in, and every step to her room felt like each string that held him together was snapping, his sutures buckling under the weight he carried.

He was digging deep, trying to pull any kind of genuine quip from within him, to maybe – just maybe – convince Spencer he was okay.

But did he want to keep her in the dark?

Opening up was so fucking hard for him. Either he was a burden or he was let down by the people he confided in.

Trustworthiness was hard to come by, and Bryce knew that. That’s why Spencer was the first to know about Keiki, about his parents, about him. Not entirely, since he wasn’t ready for that just yet, but he was getting there.

It was a slow process, and he revered Spencer’s patience. Not once did she get upset with him for not sharing every detail.

And he almost fucking lost that.

His torturous inner monologue that he worked so hard to bury showed up when Keiki did. Guilt ate him alive, anxiety gnawed his insides, and regret feasted on whatever was left.

His mind was a hurricane, angry waves crashing painfully against his subconscious, the storm surge from his repeated trauma more than he could handle alone.

The one person he should’ve let in was almost taken from him, ripped from him like a surfboard after a wipeout.

He was drowning, and he flicked away the only hand that was outstretched for him.

And he almost fucking lost her.

The moment Spencer’s brows furrowed at whatever unconvincing mask he had plastered on his features, he broke.

His throat ached and flexed as he tried to choke back the tears, but he just… couldn’t.

Fuck, you’re so weak. He cursed at himself as the tears started flowing, warm streaks trailing down his bronzed skin, vision blurred like his head was under water. This isn’t about you.

The one time deflection was warranted, he broke down into a blubbering heap at her feet.

Like the angel she was, Spencer coaxed his body towards the bed, settling him against the down comforter before his legs buckled beneath him.

She gathered him in her arms, holding him exactly like he needed (like he wanted, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud).

She held him like he held her – like it was the last time.

The revelation tore him up inside, knowing she’d never take a second of their time together for granted again.

He pulled back, running a shaky hand through his hair, loose strands clinging to his damp forehead.

“I normally can hold it together better.” “You don’t have to do that around me, Bryce. You know that,” she encouraged, eyes still red-rimmed from the funeral.

“You’re the one that almost died, and I’m sitting here crying letting you comfort me,” he laughed through a sob, bouncing his leg on the ground nervously.

“You watched me almost die,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re allowed to be upset.”

His chin wobbled, and he rolled his lips to mask it. He took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Spencer, I – have you ever…” He trailed off. Why was this so fucking hard?

“Have I been through this before?”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

She nodded. “Have you?”

“No.”

She nodded again.

“It’s making me think about my life… and the people in it. And things I could’ve done differently… better.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I saw you in that room, after the gas started affecting you, and your face… it –” he bit his lip to hold back a soft sob. “It got me thinking about everything that we didn’t do.”

“Bryce…” she laced her fingers in his, rubbing her thumb methodically over his skin.

“We’ve barely seen each other this year, Spencer. I got caught up with Keiki, and trying to figure shit out, and –” he searched her eyes, tears welling up again. “When I saw you in that room, nothing else mattered.”

“More than one thing can be important to you –”

“You’re important to me, Spence. You deserve better than what I’ve given you this year,” he shook his head, tears spilling over. “I can’t lose you.”

“You aren’t losing me, Bryce. I’m right here,” she practically cooed, trying her best to soothe him.

“I shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. Please,” he whispered.

She pulled back, scooting backward onto the bed to cross her legs, as he stood up, pacing.

“It’s like I’m fucking up left and right with the people who matter to me,” he fisted his pockets, avoiding her eyes as he strode across the room.

“You of all people should know that you can’t take the blame for things that are out of your control,” she murmured softly, tugging at a loose string at the hem of her dress.

“I know I can’t control it and that’s why it makes me want to tear my fucking hair out,” he said through gritted teeth, biting back tears. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but his body had other ideas.

“Bryce, you couldn’t have stopped a bursting gas canister. Nobody could’ve stopped it.”

“That’s not what I’m frustrated over. I’m… I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick and making this about me. There’s a lot going through my head right now,” he laughed humorlessly, stopping in the middle of the room directly across from the bed.

“Talk it out with me. I’ve got time,” she smiled encouragingly, folding her hands in her laps politely, like the angel she was.

God, sometimes he was thankful for his parent’s demonic behavior, because if not for the bad karma the Lahela’s accumulated, there’s no way in hell the universe would’ve balanced itself out by placing an angel like her in his path.

“On the one hand I’m angry at myself for not spending time with you like I should’ve,” he chewed his lip for a second, trying to gather his thoughts, before speaking again slowly. “I could’ve lost you and I was more worried about keeping secrets from everyone and dealing with shit on my own, you know? Which I never should’ve done.”

“But you didn’t and still don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to have boundaries,” she interjected calmly.

“But maybe… maybe I don’t want that anymore,” he shrugged out of his tux jacket, draping it over the back of her desk chair as he spoke. “You still barely know Keiki. I barely know Keiki. And I holed myself up when you were waiting there with open arms. I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want to burden anybody? I don’t know.” He repeated, downplaying his own self–realization.

“And I’m frustrated because I don’t… know how to deal with this,” he gestured around the room, then to himself. “How to wrap my brain around all of it. This was the first time I lost anybody like this.”

“I wasn’t even super close to Danny and Bobby,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets to calm his shaking hands.

“Losing people is always hard. Doesn’t matter how close or distant you are to somebody,” she said, trying to hold his eyes, but he could barely look at her.

He’d never opened up like this before. He was so vulnerable… so exposed, and he was afraid. Afraid she’d run away. That she’d bolt the second he plopped his thick suitcases filled to the brim, nearly bursting with emotional baggage from the past two decades.

“I’m sad about losing them, definitely, and going to a funeral for the first time in my life really fucked with my head but… fuck, I’m gonna sound like such an asshole,” he willed himself to look up from his shoes, staring intently at her. “None of that even comes close to what I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”

“Kyra was hanging on by a thread while I thought you were –” he choked, pressing his lips in a firm line to stop his sobs, which escaped through his nose in short breaths instead.

“I’ve never felt pressure like that. And my life has been nothing but pressure.” The words were freely flowing from him, like a dam held together by a few twigs, snapping to release a flood that neither of them anticipated.

“You had to run towards your problems, not away from them,” she whispered, like she wasn’t sure if he’d agree. But the moment the words left her lips, it was like the puzzle pieces fell into place for him.

Maui should’ve been his safe haven, but from the moment his parents were exposed in every form of news throughout Hawaii, he was itching to leave. The island fever settled into his bones and never left. It was an ever present anxiety he struggled with despite finding a home in Boston, Edenbrook, and Spencer.

When shit went down back home, he ran. When people found out who he was states away from the fallout, he ran. It was predictable, methodical, like an appendectomy. The same muscle memory that sliced skin and fastened sutures with delicate precision pumped his legs until he was as far away from his problems as he could get.

“Everytime I lost somebody, it was because I chose to. This time it was like something was being ripped away from me, and I couldn’t handle it,” Bryce said, a profound statement that caused a pained whimper to escape his lips.

“Bry…” She breathed, scooting to the edge of the bed, gently tugging at his shirt sleeve to pull him down to sit on the comforter.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now, alright? And you don’t have to carry all of this alone. I’m here. You’ve got all of us,” she said, motioning towards the walls of the apartment. “Sometimes just letting it out can take the weight off your shoulders. And you’ve got a heavy load, Bryce.”

She rubbed soothing circles on his back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not leaving you.”

He held her eye, doe-eyed gaze piercing – Spencer could see right through him, and god did he love feeling seen.

There was nothing he could say to thank her properly for putting aside her feelings to listen to him for a few minutes. Those few minutes where he unleashed a small portion of the shit he’d been building up for years.

So instead he did what he’d been craving since the moment he saw her behind the glass.

He pulled her into a frenzied kiss, pouring every part of himself into the embrace, wrapping him in her arms like she belonged there, as if he was saying “I’m not leaving you, either. You’re safe now.”

––––

taglist: @pixeljazzy ; @raleiighcarrera ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @violinet ; @empressazura ; @serafinedupont ; @messofakind ; @altairadtaz ; @hudush ; @solarbridge ; @adriansbiss ; @bellarxse ; @havennly ; @writinghereandthere ; @levineseth ; @lahellacute ; @michellesnguyen ; @kelseaaa ; @natesewels ; @lucas-koh ; @rainesenator ; @montjoy ; @bryceslahela ; @crestfallenpixie ; @dudebro-lahela ; @ezekielbhandarivalleros ; @lgbtiangley ; @part-of-the-circus ; @nazariolahela ; @hazel-nguyen ; @la-huerta ; @adamdusmortain ; @thepotatobleh ; @distinguishedsaladoperawinner ; @bobbymckenzie ; @catsomi ; @neptunesascendant ; @pixelsandkink

[if i missed you, i wasn’t able to tag your url! i tagged anybody who interacted w the post so if you want to be removed please let me know]

[alj4890]

Choices September Challenge

Day 20 Cloudy

(Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine) A Choices Open Heart Drabble.

A/N I’m stepping out of my comfort zone for this one since I have never written a strictly OH fic before. So much happened in the most recent chapter, that I thought the MC didn't get a chance to actually come to terms with being back at work after she nearly died. I suppose this drabble deals with some of it along with her new relationship with Ethan.

@choicesseptemberchallenge20 @xjustin-ethansgirliex @lovealexhunt @trappedinfandoms @flyawayboo​ @krsnlove​

Masterlist

Incapable

I can't breathe!

Casey knew logically that she was breathing, but the panic building up within her caused her to run haphazardly down the hall.

Nurses barely glanced her way, used to seeing her rush from one patient to the next. Doctors were busy reading files and conferring with specialists.

All was normal.

All except me.

She stumbled through the front entrance of the hospital, gasping the cold air. The icy bite was a welcome relief as she felt her heartrate begin to calm.

I can't do it. I can't go back in.

She walked over to a nearby bench, brushed the recently fallen snow off, and sat down.

I can't even look at the building.

She lowered her head into her hands.

"I'm such a fool." She muttered to herself. "Such a weak fool to believe I could come back."

Damn Farley and his rash! Why did he have to come check on me? I could be home, safe. Not needed to handle these life or death situations.

She grit her teeth together, forcing herself to sit upright. No amount of will though could make her look towards the hospital.

Who wanted to look at the place where one faced death? Watched their friends suffer? Watched some of them die?

She could hear the voice of her grandmother, teasing her about not trusting medical treatments.

Sweetie, they call it the practice of medicine. And I don't feel like being the next one they get to practice on.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was an almost tortured state of affairs. Each treatment that didn't work was then passed on to another. And another. And another. Some hurt. Some made things worse. Some killed you.

Her eyes pricked with tears as she thought of Danny and Bobby. Two good men that suffered an agonizing death before any hope could be found. No chance for an attempt at a cure.

If Rafe had not jumped in front of her, taking the brunt of the maitotoxin, she wouldn't be sitting here, freezing...dreading all she would have to face again.

And Ethan...how on earth do I comfort him?

How does one come back from seeing his unconscious mother with veins bruised and punctured from a heroine overdose?

How had he functioned, working to bring her back?

He hadn't let Casey comfort him. He had left. Practically ran from having to feel anything for the mother who had abandoned him.

I don't blame him. Am I not doing the same to him and everyone and everything in my life? I don't know how to help him through this. I don't even know exactly what we are, other than trying to have a relationship outside of work. I don't want to face any of it. I don't want to fix Esme's problem. I don't want to be the one to figure out how to encourage everyone. I don't want to think about funding. Or caring. Or being near anyone who has a need!

"Casey?"

She looked up at the sound of Ethan's voice. He had her coat and scarf in his hands.

He draped it over her shoulders, gently closing it around her.

"May I join you?" He asked.

She gave a noncommittal shrug.

Averting her gaze from the worry in his expression, she slipped her arms in the sleeves of her coat.

"Thank you." She cleared her throat when it cracked. "I meant to grab it on my way out."

He looked up at the cloudy sky as snow flakes began to fall once more.

"Let's go for a walk." He took her hand before she could refuse and pulled her along with him.

She glared at his back for his highhandedness then caught up when he tugged her forward.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Nowhere in particular." He slipped their clasped hands in the pocket of his coat.

After a few moments of silence, she jerked him to a stop.

His eyebrow lifted in silent question.

"What do you want from me?" She asked.

His blue eyes held her gaze, trying to see past her bitter question.

"Nothing." He replied.

She yanked her hand from him. "Good. Because I can't give you what you need."

He watched her hands shake from more than the cold as she tried to button her coat closed.

Her mutterings that she couldn't help anyone when she couldn't even button her damn coat properly, caused him to intervene.

He gently brushed her hands away and secured each button. His eyes lifted to hers, seeing once more the trauma and anguish she had been trying to hide since the attack.

Without a word he pulled her into his embrace.

Her body stiffened. Hands, raised to his chest to shove him away, fell to wrap around his waist.

Her stray tears grew in volume as she cried in his arms. Her broken sentences of not being strong enough, incapable of being any use to anyone tore at his heart.

Ethan silently clutched her even closer, allowing her the chance to finally pour out every emotion and thought she had been keeping to herself.

He could eventually feel the tenseness leave her body as her sobs began to slow to hiccupped breaths.

Casey looked up at him. "I'm so sorry for not knowing how to comfort you." Tears filled her eyes once more. "Here I am complaining, and you had to--"

His lips brushed hers. The tender caress caught her off guard, silencing the new guilt she had added on herself.

"You were there for me." He said softly. "You didn't get angry when I acted like an ass." His lips quirked when a tearful laugh bubbled up. "You gave me what I needed."

"I didn't know what you needed." Her brow furrowed. "I didn't do anything."

"Casey, you let me know you were there. Then you allowed me to go off on my own for a while." He explained, cupping her face between his hands. "You've always given me what I need."

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Laughing when he muttered that if she didn't stop crying they would end up frozen together.

He stepped back and offered her his hand.

"Come on. We don't have to go back to the hospital until you're ready, but let's at least go somewhere warm."

She ignored his hand and slipped her arm around his waist.

Ethan smiled, wrapping his arm around her. As they walked toward his favorite coffee shop, he pressed another kiss to the top of her head, relieved once more that he had not lost her.

[lightningbugqueensfics]

Real Family

Destiel

From the prompt “Cas beating the crap out of john winchester for causing dean so much trauma”(thanks @beautifulsaladkitten !)

*********

When John Winchester comes back from the dead, we get a better look into the harm he inflicted on Dean as a child. Castiel is a good boyfriend.

tw: Homophobic slurs and abuse

Ao3 Link

Dean woke to pounding on the front door. He had chosen this room specifically because it was so close to the entryway of the Bunker, but nights like this it bit him in the ass. Here he was, finally getting a good night's sleep, Cas wrapped around his back, and some idiot hunter just had to show up in the middle of the night. They could’ve at least had the decency to wait until morning.

Cas grumbled against his neck, obviously hearing the noise too. Despite still being an angel, ever since they had gotten together Cas had really taken a liking to sleep.

“Stay here, babe,” Dean murmured, “I got it.”

He rolled out of bed and trudged his way to the door. He yanked it open, still grumbling under his breath about “ stupid young hunter with no regard for their elders. ”

As he walked down the hall, Sam joined him.

“Hey man, I’ve got this, you can go back to Cas,” he offered.

“Nah, I’m up already. Who do you think it is?”

“Claire?” Sam asked.

“No, she’s on a Tulpa hunt in San Francisco with Kaia.”

“Ah, young love,”

“Haha, yeah. Charlie?” Dean asked.

“Remember, her and Stevie are on their honeymoon in Colorado.” The wedding had been beautiful. Both brides radiated joy, and nearly everyone (including Dean, though he would never admit it) cried. How Stevie managed to convince Charlie to go somewhere so far out of cell range still escaped Dean, but hey, it seemed like they were having fun.

“Still?”

“Yeah, they found a hunt up there the day they were gonna leave.”

“That’s rough.” Dean said.

“Actually, they seemed pretty excited. ‘First hunt as a married couple’ and all that.”

“Yeah, well, if that happened to Cas and I, you would be taking care of it.” Dean grunted as they reached the War Room.

“So, have you thought about it?” Sam asked carefully, “You know, asking him to marry you? Fully retiring?” The brothers and Cas were already partially retired, only taking hunts near the Bunker and mainly helping with the research. They were like the new Bobby’s. It was amazing how far they’d come.

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted, “I think I’d like that. I don’t think very soon, but eventually. We wasted so much time already, it’d be nice to make it official.”

Their conversation was cut off as they reached the big iron door. Sam stood in front of his brother to open it, and his back went ramrod straight the second he saw who was at the door. Dean peeked over his ginormous shoulder and felt the blood drain from his face.

“Dad?” 

Dean’s voice hurt him. It was like just the sight of their father turned him back into that obedient little kid, who always did what his father told him to. He was so much more than that now.

“Boys?” John asked, “Why do you look so… old?” Sam was still speechless, so Dean took charge. Fifteen years had passed and it was exactly the same.

“How are you alive?”

“I was with your mother, heaven, I think, there was this bright like, and then poof, here I am. Standing right outside this big ass metal door.”

“Um, Dad, what year do you think it is?”

“2006. Why? How long has it been, boys?”

“It’s uh, 2020 now. What was the last thing you remember?” he asked his dad, then said to Sammy: “Get the holy water, silver, and borax. We can do more tests later.”

“2020?” John asked, shocked, “What the hell?”

“Dad,” Dean said, trying to sound firmer, “What was the last thing you remember before being with mom?”

“The hospital. My deal with Yellow Eyes. I died, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. Then you came back as a ghost to kill the demon, then we went back in time and met you a couple of times, then you came back because of a wishing pearl that we had to destroy because it screwed with time. Things have gotten a lot more complicated since you left.”

Sam showed up with the borax and holy water, which he splashed on John’s face, then he handed him the silver knife, still silent. After a cut proving his humanity, John turned back into a commander.

“Tell me everything. Now, Dean.”

So Dean did. He told him about the end of the hunt for Azazel, about going to hell, about Angels, about the plan to free Lucifer, and about the first Apocalypse. He told him about the deal with Crowely, about the Leviathans, about Purgatory, about Abbadon, and Metatron. He told him about becoming a demon, killing Death and Hitler, and freeing the Darkness. He told him about Chuck, Rowena, and Jack. He told him about Mary coming back and the apocalypse world. He told him everything.

The only thing he left out was his relationship with Cas and that Cas was an angel, because John was sure to meet the man soon, and that would not be a fun conversation if he knew.  

Dean had no delusions that John would approve of his relationship with another man, let alone one that wasn’t human. Hell, his father was one of the main reasons Dean took so long to own up to his feelings.

“So you’re telling me,” John said slowly, “That you two started--and ended--the apocalypse… more than once? Once… because you,” he pointed at Sam, “got addicted to demon blood , and then again because you,” he pointed at Dean, “actually became a demon.” The brother nodded.

“You IDIOTS!” he roared, and Dean flashed back to his childhood. Drunken rages. Thrown beer bottles. Old bruises on his arm blamed on a werewolf, the only thought going through his head protect Sammy . “YOU FUCKING MORONS! Dean - A demon? You became the monster! God, I hope Sammy hunted you,” Sam started to rise to his feet, presumably to defend his brother, when John turned his gaze on the younger brother, “And you ! That demon was right! I told Dean to kill you, he should’ve! Drinking demon blood , Sam? You’ve got to know how broken you are! I was gone, what, two years? You even regret what you did? I bet you don’t you sick bas-”

“SHUT UP!” Dean yelled, shocking himself. John looked just as surprised.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said,” Dean replied, his voice somehow steady, despite the pounding in his chest, “Shut up. You can yell at me, you can tell me how broken I am--God knows that’s the truth--but you don’t do that to Sam. He tried, okay? He tried so hard but I abandoned him. You abandoned him. He’s a good man. All he ever wanted was a normal life, and he never got that. Because of you . So don’t you ever blame him for things that you caused. The pain you put us through. You did this, not us!”

“Get out of my sight,” John growled.

Dean stalked past him, catching sight of Cas in the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Dean?” he asked, “I heard yelling. Is that your father?”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean barked, without the same bite in his tone he had used on John. Cas, perfect as always, followed Dean down the hallway to their room. The tears stung his eyes before he even made it through the door.

Dean sank to the edge of their bed, tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Dean,” Cas was on his knees beside the hunter, a hand resting on his leg, “What happened?”

“He’s back” Dean choked out, “And it’s the same, Cas! I thought we… changed, you know? Got better, stronger. I thought I would be enough to s-stop him!”

“Stop him?”

“From hurting Sammy. Cas… he-he used to hit me. Not Sammy, that I know of, but, not all the bruises I got were from hunts. He would come home drunk and angry, and would always blame me if Sammy got hurt. Even if it was his fault!” Cas rose up and brought him into a hug, “I never stopped him. He did it till Sammy went to college. Then he just left me. I thought, maybe, if he ever came back…. I could finally do something,” he sniffled, “but I guess that’s proof that I’m still the same scared little boy.”

“No, no, no,” Cas whispered into his hair, “Dean, you are the bravest man I have ever met. I heard what you said to him. Dean, that was bravery! That was you standing up for your little brother. Could you have done that fifteen years ago?” Dean shook his head, still crying, “So you see, love? You grew. You are stronger. He hurt you, but you are still here. Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”

“I love you, Cas,” Dean murmured as he shifted his head into the crook of the angel’s neck.

“Come on, Dean, let’s go to bed. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

Dean nodded his head, and Cas maneuvered him under the covers, still wrapped in his angels arms.

With that they settled in to sleep. Dean fell into a peaceful slumber, completely unaware of the fury coursing through Castiel’s veins.

**************

Dean woke to pounding on the door. He grunted, knowing what was coming, and knowing that it was even worse to put it off. He forced himself out of bed and made his way to the door, still half asleep.

If he had been fully awake he might have realized the mistake he was making.

The door opened to reveal John Winchester’s still beet red face, this time the intoxicated kind. It seemed like the few hours since their fight had done nothing to calm him down.

“What do you want?” Dean asked, voice slurred with sleep.

“I want you to explain to me what that was last night!!”

“Can we do this in like, an hour?” he grunted, “I’m gonna need a shower and a cup of coffee to deal with…” he vaguely gestured at John.

“Do you think this is a laughing matter, boy? We need to-” he glanced behind Dean, “Who is that ?”

“That’s Cas.” Oh shit . Dean’s eyes widened with incredible speed and he reached the slam to door shut.

John’s hand shot open and caught it before it could close.

“The same Cas who’s a ‘hunter buddy’ of yours?” his face was now turning an alarming shade of purple as he strode into the room. Dean backed up, flinching away from his father. He heard rustling in the bed, Cas was sitting up.

“You mean to tell me that not only has your brother gotten addicted to demon blood, and you actually became a demon, some hunter turned you into a FUCKING QUEER?” John roared. Dean just kept inching backwards, that same fear from his childhood rearing its head inside of him.

“God, Dean, I knew you were fucked in the head, but this? Sleeping around with some fag, what did they do to you? I knew you were too much like your mom, always a little pansy,” his voice was slurring, just like it did before every beating when Dean was young, “Who knows, maybe I can beat it out of you?” Dean was on the floor beside the bed now, frozen, just like he was back then. Nothing had changed.

As John reared his arm back, ready to bring it down on Dean's face, a calm but lightning fast hand stopped it in its tracks.

Castiel stood beside Dean. His face was devoid of any emotion, but from the look on John’s face, his hand was squeezing enough to hurt. Still dressed in his bumblebee pajama pants and Dean’s AC/DC shirt, he didn’t look dangerous. Dean knew better. John did not.

“Get your hands off me you fucking faggot!” the man snarled.

“No. You will not hurt Dean.”

“Who are you to stop me?”

“I’m the person who saved him. I’m the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. I’m the one who picked up the pieces of that incredible man you broke and helped him fit them back together. I have loved him more than you are even capable of, so I’d say I have every right to stop you.” Castiel growled the words.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch!” John still wasn’t backing down. Castiel pushed him against a wall with one hand still holding John’s fist and the other arm pressed against his throat.

“I’m an angel you ass.” Castiel’s eyes glowed blue, like they did right before smiting someone. He was the most furious Dean had ever seen him.

“You’re a-” John cut off, “You mean to tell me that not only is Dean fucking a man, you’re not even human ? God, you really are fucked in the head, boy.” Castiel pressed harder on his trachea.

“Dean is not ‘fucked in the head’ as you say. He is a kind and loyal man, no thanks to you. He is no longer your son, John Winchester. You made sure to beat that out of him. Sam and I, and the people we have found and lost along the way, we are his family. We care about him. We love him. That’s more than you can ever say!”

“Dean,” he gasped out, “tell this monster to stop! I’m your father for christ’s sake!” Dean rose unsteadily to his feet. Heart beating faster than on most hunts, adrenaline coursing through him, Dean did the one thing he had always wanted to do but never had the courage for.

“No,” he said.

“No?”

“No. Cas is right. You only ever hurt me, Dad. It was always ‘protect Sammy,’ ‘do this,’ ‘do that.’ You never cared about me, Dad! You just wanted a good little soldier! You ruined me even more than this life did, than hell did.

“So, no. I let you walk all over me for my entire life. I let you abuse me into my twenties! But you can’t hurt Cas. You can’t hurt one of the few people in my life who genuinely cares about me. He’s made me a better person, he’s healed the damage you did. I love him, and if you can’t accept that and finally become a decent father, then you can get out. Leave. Never come back. I don’t want to see your face again.” Dean pointed at the door, hand shaking with nerves and fury.

Castiel removed his arms from a shell-shocked John. The man stared at Dean with fury and pain in his eyes.

He nodded jerkily and trudged out the door.

Dean watched him go, mind blank. The shaking got worse, and he fell back to sit on the edge of the bed.

Cas settled beside him and wrapped Dean up in his arms, silent for a time. When he finally spoke, he knew just what to say.

“I’m proud of you, Dean,” he murmured, to no response, “I know it doesn’t feel good now, but you did the right thing. He’s gone now, and you can move forward. We can do it together.”

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean said into his chest, “For… stopping him, but also for what you said. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love. I meant every word. Now, why don’t you get into bed and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee,”

“Peppermint hot chocolate?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean.” With that, Cas left to fetch their drinks and, Dean was sure, to make certain John had left. Cas was perfect in that way.

With Cas gone, Dean was left alone with his thoughts. He realized how far he’d come. Even in these fifteen years since he went and got Sam at Stanford.

He used to water down his coffee with whiskey. Now he was asking for hot cocoa. He would find a new girl every week, sometimes even more often, and wouldn’t even know their names. Now he was in a steady relationship with a guy (well, angel) who he loved more than anything. He used to let John hurt him in any way he wanted to. Now he was the one who kicked him out.

He wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t even close. But he was so much better than he used to be. And Dean knew why.

He found good people. Sam. Jody, Claire, Donna, Charlie, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Garth, and so many more. Cas. They made him better. They loved him, and helped him start to love himself.

Cas returned with two cups held carefully in his hands, a concentrated crease between his brows. He silently shuffled into place beside Dean. The angel passed over the cocoa, put his arm around his shoulder, and gave him a little peck on the cheek.

For the rest of the day the two watched movies and funny tv shows on Dean’s iPad. They cuddled and kissed and joked. It was perfect.

Because, yeah, John had screwed Dean up. But the people in Dean’s life were fixing that. And they were the people that mattered. His real family.

Tags: @beautifulsaladkitten @icesoulprincess @themoosegoes-deanicandothis @deano-cas @when-humans-were-good

[buck-up-buck]

7x09 is titled "Unfinished Business" ....

Tell me that is not a revenge plot against Bobby. TELL ME. You can't. If I was not convinced before, I AM NOW.

hErE mE oUt.

I'm not saying they are going to burn down Buck's loft, I AM NOT... BUT, imagine Bobby is dropping a patient off at the hospital with Hen and Chim (I know this hardly ever happens but roll with me guys), and our friend, the Burn Unit Nurse, sees him, and is like...

"Bobby?" BECAUSE, he recognises him, from all those years ago in Minnesota. He lived in Bobby's apartment complex, they were somewhat neighbours, and he saw Bobby go into that vacant apartment that night (the night we do not DARE talk about), on his way to work, and was working a night shift at the hospital when suddenly, they get an influx of patients with burns and smoke inhalation from an apartment fire downtown, and he hears in passing from a nurse the address, and his heart sinks because no his fiance was at home asleep at that address and he hears from someone a few weeks later that the fire started in a vacant room due to an electrical issue with a space heater and HE JUST KNOWS.

And Bobby turns around to face him and is like "Sorry, do I know you?" Because Bobby was going through it back then, he doesn't remember this guy, and the guy is like, "Sorry, no, I was mistaken." And he walks away leaving Bobby all like huh.

Then the episode ends with the truck pulling into the firehouse and the camera pans out and we see BURN UNIT NURSE GUY STOOD ACROSS THE ROAD STARING UP AT THE FIREHOUSE BECAUSE DUN DUN DUN- He has some Unfinished Business to attend to.

If this so happens to lead to the burning down of Buck's loft because this guy does his research and he does some stalking and he sees a connection that Bobby has with Buck that he doesn't seem to share with the other members of the team, then well, ya'll didn't see it here first but I fucking called it if so, because you're telling me that is not a CRAZY storyline right there.

BUT, even if not, even if we do not get our beloved loft burning down scene that we have been writing and praying for on Fanfiction for years, you cannot tell me that there is not going to be some kind of dark revenge plot going on in the last four episodes. This nurse is about to cause some HAVOC I CAN SENSE IT. MY SPIDEY SENSES ARE TINGLING GUYS.

Anyway, @whollyjoly and @thetangycheesemanwithaplan had the absolute joy of hearing this from a very sleep-deprived me last week and now that the episode titles have been released, Buck's loft burning down and Burn Unit Nurses revenge plot is going to be my new personality trait. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

[bippityboppitybibuck]

Scarred Bark, Broken Heart

15x18 coda/alternate ending of sorts || WC 2580, also read on AO3 here

MCD, depressed Dean, (Tree!Cas ???), brief mention of suicidal tendencies, open but hopeful ending, part one of a two part series, Canon divergence

Dean doesn't know what made him decide on the tree. They didn’t have a body to burn, not this time. They didn’t have a six-foot hole to dig and he felt odd putting a marker over unmarred earth. So when he stumbled upon a tree in the woods surrounding the bunker, one with a beehive tucked nine feet up he didn’t even realize he had popped out his pocket knife and started carving until the first three letters were written in the wet bark.

His throat burned as he worked. The same knife sliced skin wide so that protection could be painted onto a door that was never going to hold. Cas was always ready to bleed for him, always ready to do whatever he needed to keep him safe.

Tears threatened to ruin his work by blocking his field of view but each time he tilted his head to the sky and tried to breathe through it.

The squared-off letters seem to mock him once he finishes, if Cas’d been here the letters would have been beautiful, a burst of power and it could have been script etched into the wood. Instead, it's his blocky ugly writing.

Something hideous rears its head in his chest, and staring at the letters, staring at the name. He always deserved more than Dean could give him, than this world could give him. He deserves more than a scar in some bark in a forest hardly anyone treks into. He deserves more than to die without knowing—to die thinking he wasn’t loved.

Dean doesn't look to the sky as his eyes fill again. Sam always said he needed to let himself feel. That ignoring your trauma isn't the same as dealing with it. But he worries that if he gives into it fully he’ll never resurface. Drowned in his own mind with the pain and regret, the fear and the sadness that washes in like the tide when his guard drops.

So he doesn’t let himself sink, he treads as best he can, hearing Bobby’s gruff voice in his head just like when he was a kid, ‘keep your ears above water son, that’s the only way to make sure you stay alive out there’, it’s like Bobby knew exactly why he needed that information. Like he knew it wasn't about swimming.

He’s not sure how long he spends looking at the carving, or when the wind picks up and shakes shivers through his body. He’s not sure when the tears dry and the wracking sobs take over.

Cas looked at peace when it came for him, and it ruins him to know that. To know that loving him brought him to the one moment of true happiness. Loving a worthless, broken, fucked up killer—no. No, Cas said he wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a monster or a tool to be used and thrown aside, and yet he killed another hadn’t he? Killed him by doing nothing at all because that's what happens, that’s his legacy, people get close to him and they get killed. They always get killed.

Dean’s not sure when he heads inside again, or how he finds himself at the tree almost every day, week in and week out.

For the longest time he can do nothing but look, words that fight to break free, stay trapped behind the years of burying what he always felt, stay tapped behind the last dam he has standing in his soul the soul Cas saved—a good lot that did. He knows the dam won’t hold forever and all he can do is imagine the damage when it does finally break.

He doesn't always go alone either. Sam takes trips to the tree by himself sometimes but mostly he goes when Dean does. Jack trails after him every once in a while too but they usually let him go alone.

The first snow of the season begins to fall as he stands at the tree, the beehive long since gone dormant, its occupants burrowing in for their months-long sleep. And God how Dean envies their ability to escape reality for longer than it takes to sleep off a hangover.

It’s early for the first snow, weeks too soon but the world has been colder since—well since.

It’s been a while since he last talked while he visited, the dam broke finally or rather the levels grew too high on one side and it began to leak. Still, back then he hadn’t said much of anything.

He tries to talk now, he tries to do the same as what he did at his father's grave all those years ago trapped in a djinn dream, trapped in a world that seemed so perfect until he peeled back its layers. Kinda just like the one he actually lived in.

“Ca-s,” his voice breaks before he manages to speak the single syllable. No one is around to notice though, no matter how much he wishes he was speaking to a person instead of an unfeeling unrelenting piece of wood. Still though, it's easier to talk when no one is there to hear it, he doesn't have to hold as much back.

“Cas, I-,” Dean lets out a rough hum as he collects himself. This speech is going to be different. He can feel it, the emotions within him seem to grow choppy, spilling over the dam wall more and more and he just knows that whatever happens, he won’t be returning to the bunker whole.

“I keep thinking, y’know, back to that night you walked into that barn in Illinois, you told me that good things do happen, and I mean it’s not like I expected you to, but you didn’t believe me when I told you that nothing good happens to me. I don’t know if in the time from then to no—I don’t know if you ever figured out that I was right or not but I think that the one good thing that happened to me was the worst thing to happen to me too.” Dean stares at his name, willing it to actually be him. The cold bites at his fingers and his nose. His toes grow cold in his boots but he doesn’t move to leave he barely even feels it anyways.

“When Chuck told us that you were the one who never listened,” he chokes out a broken laugh, “it honestly made perfect sense, you did always say that it was our story, that we were the thing that was real in a world of manufactured realities. And when he said it I swear it was like I was standing in that ratty kitchen, minutes before Lucifer rose, minutes before you di—died for the first time. And I thought as Chuck went on and on how maybe I wasn’t dreaming it up, maybe it wasn't Chuck’s doing, and I was going to try to talk to you about it, after a shit ton of booze mind you.” He’s quiet for a long time, the snow begins to blanket the space around him and he thinks about how he’ll never get to brush snow off of the lapel of Cas’ stupid trench coat.

Just the thought starts a domino effect, his mind rushing through everything he wanted and everything he’ll never get now and it’s so overwhelming it sends him to his knees. Of course, because he clearly will never be able to catch a break all it does is remind him of the last time they were in purgatory together, the fear and heartbreak that shook him to his core, the devastation of Cas brushing off what he wanted to say because fuck it was so much more than his prayer.

“You beat me to it though, and then—well we both know what happened next.” His fingers are ice when they wipe the tears from his eyes. They jolt him, a shock to his system.

“You never gave me a chance to respond, didn’t even give me a damn moment to process any of it. And you’re a selfish son of a bitch for that because that wasn’t fair, that wasn’t—. I needed you to stay, I needed you to hear it too. I won’t ever be able to stay mad at you because I never have been, not for any of the shit you pulled in the past. But that? That was a new low.” He sniffles from the cold or from his tears he doesn't know but he does it all the same.

“Y’know if you were here right now you’d tell me to go inside because humans catch colds so easily and you don’t know how fucking much I need to hear that now Cas.” His heart plummets in his chest again. He feels sick all over again so he clenches his jaw to keep from heading too far down that road.

“I remember the first time you got sick, god you were a nightmare the entire time and I dealt with Sam getting sick every year since I was old enough to open kids cold medicine,” Dean laughs thickly, tears lodged in his throat. The strain of holding it all back shreds at the muscle and it screams with every breath he manages to shake into his lungs.

“I remember everything Cas, all of it, every fight, every drink, every goddamn time we looked at each other. And yet I can’t recall a fucking thing because I thought I had more time. After everything we’d gone through, I still thought we would have more time. It's all broken and jumbled and set to static and I can’t handle it because it's crystal clear and as muddy as anything because I thought I’d be able to make more, replace what got muddled. I thought you had more time.”

He shuffles around and presses his back against the trunk of the tree. His ass is uncomfortable as hell what with the roots and the wet cold earth below him but his knees appreciate the switch.

“I’m having a hard time this time because a part of me thinks just like it did after the whole leviathan fiasco. I swear you’re going to come back, that this is all a mix-up, that if I wait just a little longer, hold on a little longer, put my gun down just one more night that you’ll be back. But it’s been weeks Cas and nothing’s changed. I wake up and I go to sleep in a world that doesn’t have you in it and I was always okay before because you were just there even if I didn’t have you like I wanted I still got to see you, watch you, lo—be with you. But now it’s all empty, and no matter how ironically appropriate that is given the dumbass move you made a year and a half ago, I’m hanging on by a thread man. And Sam doesn't know how to help, even with all his dead girlfriends as experience to draw from.” He’s quiet for a long time, chewing on his lip, flexing his fingers together as he just sits.

“He says I need to stop making jokes to cover it all up but that's all I know how to do. I mean you can’t mourn your mom if you have a baby brother to take care of so you joke. You can’t talk about what the internet says is PTSD because there are monsters to hunt and people to save so you joke. You can’t let yourself be vulnerable because that means death so you joke. You can't tell your best friend what you need to so you joke. You hide behind something safe because no one wants you to show what's really there.” Dean's mind is a mess right now, jumping from one point to another, skipping ahead and falling behind. He has so much he wants to say and it’s like he’s trying to say it all at once.

He can almost hear Cas’ voice admonishing him for thinking that he didn't have a support system, that he didn't have people who loved him and wanted him to be okay and it strips him raw. Because it’s only been a few months, how could he already be forgetting his voice, or which way he tilted his head when he didn’t understand some random human action, which foot he started with when he stood up from a chair, if he liked smooth or crunchy peanut butter better even if it was all molecules to him, what his arms felt like wrapped around him, how he sighed when Dean was being an idiot, what his smiles looked like as he sat at their kitchen table talking with Jack.

How was he already forgetting all of the little things that made him fall for the fallen angel, heaven's most loved, heaven's most corrupted.

His chest is cracked so wide every part of him falls inside, his very soul falls into the pit, tumbles down and down and down because there are a million things that he and Cas will never get to do but there are a billion things Cas will never do again.

Sure Cas’ll never learn to dance but he’ll never smile again. He’ll never have the chance to memorize the words to the songs Dean showed him but he’ll never feel the sun on his skin again. Or laugh or cry or sleep in late. He’s never going to make another milk run, be it a monster hunt or an actual milk run. He’ll never watch another bee documentary or hug his son again.

Cas lived hundreds of millions of years and yet there was so much he left unfinished, he’s been around for eons and yet he still died too soon.

It takes him a moment to remember that even if Cas had been around since the Cambrian explosion in reality he’d only experienced humanity for eleven years. And all of it was spent fighting, shouldn't he get a fucking chance to just live for a fucking second. Let himself relax, shake the weight off his shoulders, just be finally?

Dean turns and looks from his position at Cas' name, the angle is atrocious so he can barely see the etchings.

There are a billion things he’ll never do again, a million things he’ll never get to experience. And for someone who's given all that Cas has given to this world, that just won’t do.

“You told me love drove me, you said that I fought for everything because of love, that I taught you how to and fuck Cas I don’t know how that's possible. But I’ve fought for nearly forty years because of love and there's no way in hell I am stopping that now. I’m going to fight for you, I’ll fight Chuck for you, I’ll fight against the anger that still lives inside me and dammit I’ll fight to get you back because no fucking way am I losing you forever after that speech. If love drives me Cas then you, you…” Dean takes a deep breath. “Happiness is in just saying it, but I can’t tell a piece of wood, so I’ll wait until you are back, because I will get you back. I don’t care what it takes. You need to hear it, you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know.”

I’m working on a rewritten ending for Supernatural that is set after this little alt ending to 15x18 because the actual ending... left a lot to be desired. Turns out spite was in fact enough to get me writing again! So that’s good right??

[holylulusworld]

911 for love (6) - Worshipping you

Summary: You are twenty-five, independent, smart and still a virgin. Annoyed by your friend's comments you want to get rid of the problem by calling a call-boy. Little did you know you will meet two things…love and handcuffs…

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Reader, Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, self-doubts, shy reader, body issues, virgin reader, comforting, fluff, smut, protected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, possessive Dean (a hint)

911 for love Masterlist

“Don’t you dare to cover yourself…” Dean is circling your bed, staring at your naked body as you try to cover your breasts. He’s licking his lips, clenching his fists as his cock bobs with every move he makes.

Writhing on the bed, lips parted you glance at his huge cock, asking yourself how Dean can be hard for you. Self-conscious you bite your lower lip as Dean crawls back onto the bed to grab your ankles.

“Spread your legs, feet flat on the mattress, Baby Girl. I want to see what’s going on down there.” Smirking Dean licks his lips as you reluctantly let your legs fall open.

Growls leave his lips before he lunges forward to bury his face between your thighs. He’s nuzzling you mound as he smirks up at you.

“Dean…I…God!” His tongue laps at your pussy, sliding through your dripping folds while he grabs your thighs to keep you open, exposed to his preying eyes.

“That’s it, Y/N. Such a pretty cunt. Smooth, all pink and wet for me. I think I must make you mine tonight. No one else is going to see this pussy.” Dean purrs against your sex and you want to tell him no one else wants to see it but his lips work your clit and then he slips two thick fingers into you and you lose it.

Hands fisting his hair you look at the man between your legs, taking what he wants to turn you into a wanton mess. Your pussy greedily let him add another finger to stretch you out.

“Dean…that’s…uh…”

“Does the big bad cop fuck you good with his thick fingers? Can’t wait to have this sweet cunt around my dick, make you scream my name. Damn, I lay claim to you.” His eyes focused on your chest heaving up and down Dean nips at your clit while his fingers work your heated flesh.

“Oh…fuck…” Your walls tighten and before you can stop it you squeeze Dean’s fingers, cursing his name or rather chant it.

“Damn right…mine…” Dean is kissing your clit, still stroking your walls to bring you through your high. “You look beautiful in the afterglow.”

Settling between your thighs Dean fumbles the condom open as you watch him unsure what to do. Shall you say something? Play with your breast like the girls in porn or make odd noises?

Hesitating you sit up to take the condom out of his hands and Dean watches you curiously as you gently stroke his cock. There’s a gasp leaving his lips and you smile up at him.

Dean had sex with many women, but he never felt more captivated by a girl than in this very moment as you roll the condom over his length, giggling slightly.

“You’re beautiful, Sweetheart. Let me show you how much I want you.” Shyly nodding you lie on the pillow, to let Dean take over.

Resting his weight onto his left arm he lies next to you, gently kneading your breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin and you blush when he captures one nipple with his teeth, suckling it to let the little nub pebble.

When he settles between your legs you can’t stop watching him teasing your clit with his tip, rubbing it along your slit. “Gonna go slow, Baby Girl. Just tell me if anything doesn’t feel good.”

Smiling you hold out your arms and Dean starts pushing into you. Stretching you he can feel your body tense and slides back out, carefully moving his hips to ease into you.

While his lips distract you with soft kisses and little nibbles Dean moans against you, trying to take it slow but it’s hard to now slide right into you to feel your tight heat squeezing him.

“You feel so good, Y/N. Fuck…that’s…” Sliding your fingers through his hair you wrap your legs around his waist, tilting your hips to let him bottom out with a loud grunt.

“Dean…” Whimpering you move your arms around his back, surrounding Dean with your soft body as he peppers kisses along your collarbone. “Feels so … oh…full…”

“Hmmm…” Keeping the first strokes slow and even Dean starts moving inside of you. He’s placing one large palm behind your head to bring you closer to his lips as his free hand grabs your right thigh. “Gonna go faster.” Dean pants against your lips.

Nodding you breathe against his lips. You want to say something instead you moan with every faster coming thrust of his cock. Impaling you on his shaft, his lips claiming yours Dean surrounds you, drowns you into the feeling of his skin against yours and the way he drives into you.

“Dean…”

Your hands move over his back, up to his shoulders as you try to match his movement. You’re a gasping mess, hands now moving down to his ass, squeezing it tightly to press him impossible deeper into you.

Groaning against your lips Dean moves faster, using more force to pound you harder and your hands fly to his hair, tugging it harshly as the burning in your abdomen gets stronger.

“Come..” Dean moans between wild thrusts and you nod, whimpering silently as you squeeze his dick tightly.

Losing himself in the feeling of your heat pulsing around him Dean slows down, giving you shallow thrusts to ride your high out.

There’s a violent twitch, and you look up at Dean the moment he comes. Hissing, eyes closed he shouts your name before he buries his face into your neck.

“That was…” Chuckling you squeeze Dean’s ass once again. “Awesome?” Dean pants and you giggle, nodding as he gives you his panties melting smirk.

“Yeah…”

“Damn, we need to do it again…” Dean mutters nipping along your neck, slightly rutting against you. “What? Now?”

“Baby Girl as much as I want to take you right now I can’t.” This time you smirk, patting his cheek. “I know, Dean. I was always good at biology, ya know. But we can do it later…”

“Count me in, dirty girl. Knew you aren’t that innocent.”

----

Propped onto his elbow Dean slides his fingers over your skin, teasing your nipples now and then, still this dirty smirk all over his face he admires the marks he left on your skin.

“Why is that guy killing those women?” Your question brings Dean out of his daydreams and his expression changes at the thought you would've ended like the other women.

“We don’t know, Y/N. All we know is all the girls called an escort service and died not hours later. We assume that his girlfriend or wife did the same, cheating on him.” Dean explains as you nod.

“Or his mom…Dean.” Turning around you look at Dean, sliding your fingers over his chest. “Most of those sick guys killed innocent people as their mommy wasn’t nice…”

“It’s not that easy. Many serial killers had a bad childhood. Got abused or worse. Sometimes a trauma caused their…” Dean tries to explain more but you press your finger to his lips.

“I get it, Dean. Still hurting other people doesn’t make you feel better.”

“I know. How about a shower, food and I talk to Sam to bring me clothes and stuff. I won’t leave you alone with Detective Asshole and Garth.” Dean is pecking your cheek before he grabs his pants to call his brother.

“Order pizza. I’m damn hungry, Winchester…” Giggling you watch Dean licking his lips, a grin all over his face. “I know I wore you out, dirty girl.”

----

“Why are you at Ms. Y/L/N apartment! I told you to stay away, boy. We could…” Watching you wrap your arms around Dean’s waist Bobby clears his throat, trying to ignore you are only wearing Dean’s shirt.

“I invited Dean to my apartment, Captain. He’s not here as a cop, Dean is here as my … boyfriend.” You exclaim and Dean smirks at Bobby, darting his tongue out to wet his lip.

“Bobby, I know that I’m out of her case, but you can’t tell me to stay away from my girlfriend during vacation. I will not interfere, promised, but the moment Cole opens his mouth and the wrong word comes out I might forget my manners.” Dean points at Cole leaving the apartment next to yours.

“I know, Detective Winchester. Garth told me what Cole said and he knows to never open his stupid mouth ever again.” Bobby rumbles looking at you, apologetic.

“Anything I need to know?” Dean husks watching his brother walking toward your apartment, three duffle bags in his hands.

“Nothing so far, Dean. We will keep on protecting Y/N till we get this guy. I promised no one will hurt her.” Bobby tries to calm you but Dean moves his arm around your shoulders, grinning.

“I’ll protect my girl, Captain. Cole and Garth can find the killer and I’ll take care of her needs…”

“Dude, your bags are heavy.” Sam pants, dropping the bags onto the floor. “Anything else you need?”

“I’ve got all I need, Sammy. My girl, my stuff and there's food on its way. If you excuse us now, Sammy, Bobby. I promised my girl to watch Caddyshack with her.”

----

Curled next to Dean you sleep peacefully as he slightly starts snoring.

Neither the two of you nor Cole and Garth can see the car stopping in front of your house as the man inside glances at Dean’s car.

“Soon…” The man chuckles before driving away. “She’s mine, Winchester…”

911 for love Tags

@bmrobichaud, @waywardrose13, @delicatefirespyplaid

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[trvelyans-archive]

okay well i’ve been thinking about wayhaven celandine all day so here’s a fact dump (under the cut because it’s Long):

religiously does her nails - she used to bite them down to the nub when she was a kid and had a tendency to pick at her hangnails until she was bleeding, so the only thing that stops her from doing that when she’s worried/stressed is by wearing nail polish/acrylics

online shops Way more than she should and spends too too too much money on her clothes. she wants to feel sexy and badass All The Time and intimidate people by feeling sexy and badass. lots of very very simple and understated tops but with sharp angles/silhouettes 

on the other hand, has a very minimalist house - she doesn’t have very many decorations or anything.... personal, really ? she has some fake plants to Liven the place up so it doesn’t look like an ikea set but besides that not much - pretty standard furniture, coasters, etc

was in the debate club in high school and fucking Rocked it. was 100% the top debater and the only time she ever really partied in high school was debate trips. she also played lady m*cbeth in 12th grade and like. was really good at acting ? briefly considered a career in it but wanted to do something more “respectable” (i say as a theatre major slkfjsdl)

she kept to herself in high school a lot besides that, and didn’t really get along with her teachers bc if they messed something up or said something dumb she Would Debate Them, yes she Is that type of person, yes it Does come from childhood trauma of her mother not being around and therefore celandine not respecting authority very much,

met bobby bc he was assistant stage manager for the show where she played lady m*cbeth lol !!! tbh she didn’t really care too much about bobby - sure, they dated for 3 years but she never really loved him, and it was never too serious of a relationship, they just went on dates and had sex a lot but didn’t really take it seriously or fully commit to each other

then, when he steals her essay or whatever it is and she finds out, she dumps his ass and doesn’t regret it for a second, mainly bc she feels embarrassed and angry that he got the better of her and somehow did that ? like stole her whole ass paper ? but also he’s crusty so she doesn’t really care besides that !!! she starts going on dates again right away so it doesn’t really matter, in fact bobby probably got the worst deal

keeps her dad’s wedding ring on her bedside table in a little ashtray. sometimes, when she’s INCREDIBLY sad or feels really lonely, she likes to hold it in her hand and talk to him. she doesn’t remember her dad, like, at all, but the only thing she ever wanted was for him to be alive so she wasn’t so lonely and didn’t grow up relying on only herself for so long

she’s really polite when someone needs her to be nice to them- she always thought that, if her dad helped protect people and took care of them, that she should when given the opportunity to make him proud. besides that, though, she isn’t at all friendly and can easily hint to someone that they should gtfo when she wants to be left alone - she just doesn’t really care about anyone else’s opinion of her really, she grew up so independent that herself is the only person she’s felt like she can rely on. tends to act polite anyway, if a little stiffly, because a lot of the time there’s no need to bitch someone out, but when she needs to... oh boy does she deliver

she likes tina and verda well enough, and tina is just generally hard to hate, even for someone like celandine. they’re pretty close and have had a couple of girls nights with wine and like. face masks and nail polish painting, but don’t do it very often because celandine doesn’t really want to do it very often slkfjslsdfk. having fun with people and getting close to people makes her second-guess every conversation she’s had with anyone ever and every person she’s pushed away so. it’s not good to dwell on it

she’s babysat for verda a couple of times and is actually decent with kids and is pretty good at Pranking them into eating their veggies and telling them exciting bedtime stories with voices and everything. she doesn’t do it anymore for a few reasons tho, mainly just that she doesn’t have the time

she is terrified of commitment because she just doesn’t have a lot of grace when it comes to relationships and feels like she is inevitably going to say something wrong or mean (not that she would, because like i said, when someone needs her to Not be mean, she isn’t mean) or she’s going to die/get busy and leave them feeling like she’s felt her entirely life and she’s had a very sad and lonely life so she wouldn’t wish that on anyone

that being said, once her and adam get together at Some point during the series, she just has. the absolute WORST baby fever. now that she is committed and has a future with someone - guaranteed bc no matter what happens her and adam will always stay together - she can not only be a better mom than rebecca ever was, but also she just wants to be the best mom in the world. she would be ! her kid would be so stylish and also would feel so loved and respected and cherished and she would kick the ass of any bully or teacher who tried to fuck with them !!! and she would be so good at bedtime stories and playing with her kid !!!

okay, so, now that the Fun facts are out of the way, onto her very obvious flaws: mean, likes to feel better than anyone, terrible spender (like terrible, i’m serious when i say she spends probably 40% of her work paycheck on clothes), absolutely so stubborn, gets really mad and belligerent when she’s proven wrong or loses at board games, no sense of artistry and is good at no artistic things besides acting lol LKSDJFLDS, stans Shakespeare and reads his books for fun, finds looking thru ikea catalogues and furniture catalogues relaxing, showers every day, has a 1 hour bedtime routine, and, on the other end of that, she cannot be roused out of bed if she doesn’t want to be !!! 

but she has good qualities too !!! she’s not Evil, she’s just mean, so she does have a good heart and DOESN’T like when people are cruel and hurt other people on purpose (something she very rarely does unless someone is rlly pissing her off), will do work for you if you need her to (her love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service), and if you’re close friends and once she’s let down her guard a bit throughout the series, she WILL be really fun at parties bc she is very witty, she is very supportive of you and yet will be honest if you need her to be, and she really will be super loyal to you for a long time - she’s scared of commitment but, when faced with the need to commit, she will do it !!!

also she’s a master couponer so if you’re her friend FUCK buying things full price, she’ll find you the best goddamn deal in the world !!!

her and adam’s date night ideas are: 1 - sparring together ! 2 - playing board games together that ends with the winner giving the loser consolation smooches until they feel like a winner too :) 3 - reading shakespeare together :) 4 - going on walks !!! 5 - doing work together and distracting the other with an occasional smoomch or a Loving Declaration before handing them the pen they asked for !!! 6 - drinking red wine and celandine asking adam for Juicy Historical Gossip ;3 7- sleeping !!! celandine isn’t grumpy if she wakes up to hot man smooches

okay that’s all i got thanks for reading okay bye

[samclownchester]

The day is June 15 2020

The time is 3 am

The situation is that the world has fallen into a pandemic of Covid-19, and my job closed down in March, leaving me with lots of time on my hands. Despite my doubts, I fell back into Supernatural, deep into it, and I am now rewatching it. I thought it would be fun to try and see how much I could remember from earlier seasons before I watch them all

I have watched up to 1x14 at this point, so those episodes are fresh in my mind, but lets see what else I remember

Season 1

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days”

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business”

Sam’s girlfriend dies just like his mom did

Their dad is the point of the season but is only actually in like 3 episodes

Sam and Dean break up but get back together

Sam has VISIONS and moves things with his MIND

Meg is a demon, Sam has a bit of a crush on her

They find their dad, but don’t kill the demon

colt

Season 2

Dean dies in a car crash, John sells his soul for him and dies

Bobby Singer is best dad

Ellen and Jo and Ash exist

Purple Nurple

Gordon?

Lots of psychics! Sam can make friends??

Jk, it’s the hunger games

Sam gets stabbed in the back

Dean sells his soul for him

They kill Azazel I think??

“I have … demon blood in me?”

Season 3

Saving Dean from his demon deal

Groundhog day episode where Dean dies everyday

Gabriel?? (trickster)

Blonde Ruby (let’s hear it for Laurel Lance!)

Very short because there was a writers’ strike that year

Hell hounds

Season 4

Dean was “gripped tight and raised from perdition” by Castiel

Sam has a new gf! (Surprise, it’s Ruby in a new body! :o)

Why does she pretend to not know Dean when he first shows up? Is she lying to Sam about who she is this whole time?? Hmmm I wish I remembered

Time travel?? (Sam doesn’t get to come ☹ )

Demon blood

Demon blood detox ☹

Let’s kill Lilith

“Because it had to be you Sam”

“The boy with the demon blood”

Season 5

Dean is the Michael sword

Sam is messed up, trying to quit demon blood

Cas rebelled, and he did it, all of it, for Dean

Adam Winchester is a person who exists

Also I think this is the season with Jesse the antichrist who never shows up again it’s fine.

He only existed so they could have important conversations about nature vs nurture which honestly they should’ve just saved from when Jack was born but they didn’t know that was gonna happen

More time travel??

Future

Cas likes drugs

Team Free Will

Samifer

Fall into the cage

Dean goes to live with Lisa and Ben

The end?

Season 6

Cas is working with Crowley and spying on Dean but not talking to him like the pining idiot that he is

Dean can’t help but inspect monster happenings in town

Soulless!Sam

Dean finds Soulless Sam

Hanging out with some old dude?

Get Sam’s soul back

Meet Death?

Find out Cas is working with Crowley

 O: Ultimate betrayal

???

Season 7

Leviathans

Godstiel?? Why?? Idr

Hallucifer

Please give Sam therapy

Sam goes to an asylum

Cas takes Sam’s trauma??    

More leviathans

Dick?

Charlie!

Kevin!

Garth? Did we know him before. Idk, we know him now

Dean and Cas go to purgatory!

When does Cas die and walk into the lake? That’s before they go to Purgatory, right? Hmmmm but how does he come back

 Cas is Emmanuel and has a wife? Is that in this season?

Season 8

Dean gets out of purgatory!

But no Cas

Sam had a girlfriend and a dog! Nice!

Not nice, he ignored Kevin and didn’t look for Dean

Like they agreed on, but whatever ok sue him for trying to be happy

Dean has a vampire boyfriend

Not so high and mighty about killing every monster are we now, huh Dean?

Right? I don’t remember, this is a conversation that happens though

He does end up killing Benny though, doesn’t he? huh

Cas is back from Purgatory! But he’s got Secrets ™

“I’m gonna become a hunter”

Then he stays in the old folks home and next time we see him he’s all wacky and likes to watch the bees?

Megstiel

You’re just playing sorry

Am I right?? I don’t remember, but all of this happens at some point

Who even is the big bad? What are we fighting? Idk

Oh we have to save Kevin from Crowley and he reads the demon tablet. Only eats hotdogs, doesn’t shave. I love him please keep him safe.

Spoilers, they don’t

Right! The trials, Sam does the trials, they “purify” him

The angels fall, but Sam doesn’t complete the trials and almost dies.

Season 9

Sam almost dies, Dean is like “right, nonconsensual possession is clearly the best answer for this”

Human!Cas, he drinks lots of water. Steve.

§  “you can’t stay here” :o

Abaddon I think?? What was the point

Crowley is sort of our friend now and I think we meet Rowena? Idr

Kevin dies ☹

“What is the upside to me being alive” – Sam

§  Maybe in this season, maybe not. Who knows?

Cas is a cannibal (eats grace) and becomes and angel again at some point

§  Hannah exists

We all hate Metatron

Cain??

Metatron stabs Dean and Sam puts his dead body on the bed

Demon!Dean

Season 10

Demon!Dean and Crowley are living it up!

Sam and Cas try to cure Dean

Charlie and Rowena interact a lot I think

Book of the Damned

When did they find the bunker? Men of Letters? All that? Idr, anyway they have it at this point

Dean kills lots of people

Charlie dies ☹

Dean blames Sam which is unfair and I hate it

They get the mark off and The DarknessTM is release

Season 11

The Baby episode exists

Really weird sexual tension between Dean and Amara while she’s still kind of a child, no one knows why. Please stop.

Cas gets called expendable and then makes poor life decisions

Lbr, though, Misha is the only other one who can play Lucifer with the same spirit as Mark Pellegrino. Sorry Jared, it’s the truth.

Eileen!! <3

Chuck is God :o

Let’s kill Amara!

Except we don’t kill her, she just needs to bond with her bro.

Here, have your mom back

Season 12

Mom????

British Men of Letters

Lucifer F*cks

Boy I didn’t think this would turn into what it did, let me tell you

Winchesters escape from Federal Prison

Cas says “I love you”

But like, the plural you. No homo.

Sam admits he lost his drive to lead, then finds it again and leads hunters against the dang brits! Hooray!

Oh shoot Lucifer wants custody of his kid!

FIGHT

Fatality – Castiel

Fatality – Mary

Oh no wait she didn’t die she’s just trapped.

Season 13

Jack jack jack jack jack

3 dads, all at various levels of dadding

Actually 2 excellent dads, one dad who is too emotionally damaged to dad but he tries sometimes

Yeah Cas pisses of a cosmic entity. That won’t come back to bite him

Jack just wants to be good

Wayward sisters was not picked up which sucks

Apocalypse world

Rowena is our friend now

Custody Battle!!! Who wins? Not Lucifer

We saved the day! And a ton of people

Literally they made a whole deal of the people being like “We won’t leave our home or our cause” and then they got back to Sam and Dean’s world, didn’t have archangel grace and were just like “meh, actually this place is cool. We don’t have to worry about going back”

Psych! We’re not done yet! Luci wants his kid

And Michael wants his planet

Season 14

Michael! Dean

Jack dies

But it’s ok, we fixed you, just don’t use your powers

Oh shoot he used his power

Nick is somehow alive

In love with Lucifer

Burn his ass!!

Oh Mary disapproves

RIP Mary

RIP Dean being a father, now he’s gonna murder

Hi Chuck, nice of you to show up

Oh no.

Season 15

Chuck sucks

Dean and Cas break up ☹

Sam has visions again

But he’s not psychic, it’s just the piece of his soul inside Chuck

Resurrect your girlfriend! Yeah!!

Jack is eating hearts, but it’s ok, Death told him to do it.

Garden of Eden?

Get your soul back boy!

 And cry

Honorable mentions (Aka these happened but idr when)

Sam falls in love with a werewolf and then has to kill her and MAN Jared really brought the tears

AU where Supernatural is a TV show

Finding out Supernatural is a book series and the author is Chuck!

Crowley becomes helpful mostly

Crowley has a son??

 Meet grandpa

Ellen, Jo, and Ash die

Bobby dies

literally everybody dies

Kill Hitler

They meet that Jewish guy with the Golem who pretended to flirt with Dean at some point.

Jimmy Novak was a devout man who deserved a lot better than he got

Claire Novak is so cool

She moves in with Jody

When do we meet Jody? She’s just always kinda been there?

Gabriel, I don’t remember anything about Gabriel

The council of the Gods’ happens and then I think Gabriel dies in that episode?? Idr

The Four Horsemen

Death, Pestilence, War, Famine

“You’re not hungry Dean”

 I literally do not remember what was happening with these guys

Also, they killed Death, killed a reaper, that reaper became the new Death. I remember when all that happened I just didn’t feel like putting it in the timeline.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part four) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±5500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part four: Y/N begins to feel more at home, getting the hang of the daily routine at the ranch. But her world is finally complete when her horse arrives.  Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Sunshine’ by Ryan Bingham, ‘The Stable Song’ by Gregory Alan Isakov. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @coffee-obsessed-writer and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     “You haven't mucked many stables in your life, have ya?”

     Panting, Y/N stops with what she’s doing, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. After turning out all the animals, Dean and Jo started training the horses, while she was assigned to assist Garth to muck out the twenty stables. The air might have cooled between the head wrangler and herself, he did not lie when he said that he was not going to treat her differently than any other intern. As she anticipated, she landed a dirty job, quite literally.          Out of breath, she turns to face Garth in the doorway, who is leaning on a pitchfork. He has his eyebrows raised, but his smile is gentle. With her pitchfork still stuck in the mixture of sawdust and manure, she chuckles nervously. Is it that obvious that she has absolutely no idea what she is doing? The stable boy has got her figured out, but she is not entirely ready to admit it yet. In another attempt to lift the heavy clunk off the concrete, she’s able to pull it up a few inches, but then she has to admit her defeat; it’s just too heavy.      “Guilty,” she sighs.

     “Here, let me help,” Garth offers. “What you basically do with each stable, is quickly scoop the clean shavings in one corner and only take out what’s dirty. Don't bite off more than you can chew, alright? If you try to clean out the stable in one haul, you’ll ruin your back. Make sure the wheelbarrow is already pointing into the direction of the shitpit, so that you don't have to turn it when it's full.”      “The shitpit? Really?” Y/N grins, assuming he meant the muck heap.      “It has a nice ring to it,” the guy returns, sniggering over his own choice of words.       He demonstrates quickly, moving the clean shavings aside and picking up the darkened wooden fibers with his pitchfork, hurling it into the wheelbarrow swiftly.      “Don't be too neat about it, the ponies are gonna drop their chocolate muffins the moment they step back in. Make sure most of it is out,” Garth scoops up the last droppings, then twists the handle and pulls the clean shavings back to the center of the stall, “then even out what's left and if necessary add a little more shavings.”

     The tactic helps, and Y/N cleans out the next stable a lot faster than she did the previous one. Yet she can't keep up with Garth, who finishes his row when she has barely reached the fifth box. Already she feels exhausted. Aching shoulders, a sore back, and already blisters start to develop on her hands during the very first hour of hard labor. On top of all that, she is so hungry that she can hear her stomach growl above the sound of Ryan Bingham’s ‘Sunshine’ blasting from the radio. Breakfast sure sounds good by now.       Twenty minutes past eight she finishes her final stable while the slender stable boy is sweeping the hallway. He is done by the time she returns with an empty wheelbarrow, which she turns over against the wall next to the other. Jo and Dean return from the arena, cooling the horses down by walking circles around the Joshua tree. For a second, Y/N watches the head wrangler on the beautiful buckskin with black manes and a shiny, golden coat. Her breath is stolen from her for a short second.

     Holy mother of God; he looks good on a horse.

     Even though the American Quarter is only walking, she can tell he’s a good rider. The way he comfortably adjusts his balance with the movements of the animal under him, the end of the reins loosely between his fingers and his free hand rests on his upper leg as he talks to Jo; riding comes naturally. It is like breathing to him, he doesn't even have to think about it. Jo seems at home in her beautifully hand-crafted saddle as well.       “I don't know about y’all, but I could eat.”      Benny leans against the large doorway, lifts his hat and wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm, then puts it back on. He picks a pack of Lucky Strike from his back pocket, as well as his zippo, and lights a smoke. He generously smiles at Y/N after taking a drag, and for a second she senses that Dean isn’t the only one who is interested in the fresh face. Well, fresh? Not so much after mucking out stalls in eighty-seven degrees, but then again, neither is the farrier. His shirt is drenched, dark stains on the center of his chest. A little insecure about his intentions, she smiles back sheepishly, after which Benny thankfully shifts his attention to the riders.      “Still comfortable up there, Chief? Get your lazy ass off that horse, us workin’ men gotta still our hunger,” he nags.      Dean chuckles, amused by the harmless bantering of his best friend. “Somebody has to do the ridin’ and keep the horse beneath,” he counters, as he swings his right leg over the back of the horse and lowers himself to the ground.      "One time, brother,” the Southerling sighs, shaking his head. “One time you saw me fall off that bronc and you still hold that against me? That was six years ago!”

     Y/N looks from Benny to Dean, who has tied his buckskin to the pole under the Joshua tree and now loosens the cinch of the saddle. The intern takes her cue and walks over to help, partly trying to make up for the attitude she gave him the night before, but also to impress him with her eagerness. The head wrangler grins at her over the back of his horse as his friend continues to argue over what’s true and what's exaggerated about the event that his friend just brought up. Y/N can’t hide her smile either; she would like to see where this is heading.           “Oh, you didn't just fall off that bronc. That was the biggest face plant in the history of the State of Arizona,” Dean corrects, slightly overdoing it to the amusement of the others.      “C’mon now, it wasn't like that,” Benny responds.      Dean opens the faucet and starts to hose down the Quarter, washing the dirt and sweat out of its golden coat. In the meantime Y/N takes off the bridle and replaces it with a leather halter, trying not to snigger.      “Benny, be fair. There's still a dent in the arena footing where you touched down with that brick head of yours,” Jo chips in.      Y/N snorts and Dean breaks out in full-body laughter, only fueled by the stunned expression of the farrier, the cigarette still hanging from his parted lips. He doesn't have a counter ready.      “I ain’t talkin’ to you folks no more,” he mutters eventually, after which he saunters away, mumbling something unintelligible.

     Dean smirks, and eyes the intern again over the arch of the buckskin’s back, running his hand through the horse's wet mane, after which he gives the stallion a pat on the shoulder. He's trying to suppress the trace of victory before the others notice. What was this whole little challenge with his friend about? Truly just his colleague’s legendary fall? Dean saw how his pal smiled at Y/N and felt his gut twist and turn at the sight. He knows Benny, he knows that grin. And although she obviously belongs to nobody and the two men usually don't mind when one gives it a go with the girl who the other is chasing, Dean felt the need to claim her. When the farrier mocked him on making slow time, he instantly took that opportunity to put him back in his place. He wonders if Benny picked up on his reasoning, and what if she did? The cowboy tries to read her as he lifts the heavy saddle off the pole.      “Wanna bring him back to his stable?” he asks with a gentle voice. “Led is in the second on the left.”      “Sure.” She smiles, glad to get the responsibility of one of his horses. But then she realizes something. Led? Who calls his horse Led? Unless…      “Led, as in ‘Led Zeppelin’?” she wonders, as she unties the beautiful stallion.      Surprised Dean frowns at her and looks over his shoulder. “You know this horse?”      She scoffs. “No, but I know the band.” 

     Feeling the cowboy's eyes on her, she can tell that he’s impressed, and instantly the heat rushes to her cheeks.      Why are you feeling so flushed every time he directs his gaze to you? She wonders. You're that confident girl who gave him a run for his money last night. Where did she go?           But something about his ways leaves her a doubtful mess inside.      “You know Led Zeppelin?” Dean appeared again, resting his strong forearms on the stable door. Apparently he stored away the saddle in the tack room and made it back in record time. She piqued his interest earlier, but now he just can’t help himself.       “I’m familiar with their music, yeah,” she admits, undoing Led from his halter, after which she intends to exit the box.      “Prove it,” he challenges, holding the door for her. “First song of the second album.”      “Whole Lotta Love,” she recalls without blinking, confidence returning now that he started on a subject she’s an expert on.      “Name of the fifth album.”      She grins as the two of them start making their way, joined by Jo and Garth, who helped her tack down the grey she was riding.      “Houses of the Holy,” she answers.      He laughs. “Well, I’ll be damned. Where have you been hiding all my life?”

     She can’t stop herself from chuckling as she looks down, catching Jo’s eye roll as she does. It's clear the blonde cowgirl is not impressed with her cousin’s smooth talk and it brings Y/N back to earth. Yes, she gives Dean the benefit of the doubt, but Jo warned her for a reason.      This is his usual M.O, he tells this to all the girls, the convincing voice in her mind tells her. There is nothing special about you.      “What’s your favorite Led Zep song?” Dean wonders.      “Right now at this very moment?” She steals a playful glance at him from under her Milano hat. “It would be a tie between What Is And What Should Never Be and Ramble On.”

     Dean opens his mouth to respond as he pushes open the heavy door to the small cafeteria, but then the titles dawn on him. The double meaning behind her peculiar choice of songs doesn't go unnoticed with his colleagues either, because Jo throws him a wide grin, and Garth sniggers. He shakes his head, but can’t hide the ear to ear smile. Before the wrangler can fire back, he enters the lounge area, the smell of bacon, fresh bread, and pancakes filling his nostrils like it does every morning. Aunt Ellen, his dear aunt Ellen. Everyone who works at this ranch should be thanking the man upstairs for this woman who makes the best scrambled eggs in the country.

     “Well, come on in, y’all!” She greets the workers, stirring the delicious smelling food in the frying pan, after which she starts scooping the eggs on the plates. “The food ain't sittin’ here to get cold.”      With a watering mouth, Y/N settles down on the chair opposite of Bobby, who is already sipping on his coffee while Benny puts a fresh pot on the table. Ash hits the radio, letting Americana music mix with chatter. When everyone is seated, Ellen turns to Y/N.      “Now honey, here we pray before our meal. Feel free to join us, but it’s perfectly fine if you don’t,” she informs the intern with a gentleness in her voice that makes her feel comfortable, whatever option she chooses. Ellen takes her husband’s hand and squeezes it sweetly, then turns to one of the wranglers. “Ash? I believe it’s your turn for prayers.”      “Great, ‘cause I’m starvin’,” Ash states, apparently keeping things short. “Good food, good meat. Good God, let’s eat!”      “Amen!” Benny adds, not wasting a second before starting on his breakfast.

     Y/N grins at the sight of the two men, who couldn’t be more different, devouring the food as her neighbor Jo shakes her head disapproving, muttering ‘savages’. Laughing, Garth reaches over the table for a freshly baked bun while Bobby asks for the butter, and passes the ketchup to his daughter before she can ask for it. The blonde squirts the red sauce on her stir-fried eggs, leaving her bacon unattended long enough for Ash to almost steal it from her, had Ellen not smacked him on the hand with a spatula. The intern might have stumbled on a ranch that at the surface seems a little dysfunctional with workers and wranglers that occasionally score high on the crazy scale, but somehow she feels like she fits in. The fear of not being accepted was washed away by the welcoming comfort that reflects from every single one present in this room. She is a part of this already. 

     As she chews on the delicious bacon while laughing over one of Benny’s funny stories, she glances across the table, catching Dean looking over. It startles her a little, but she doesn’t look away and neither does he. For just a moment, she could swear she caught him off guard when she laid eyes on him, or did she imagine him flinching? The exchange of looks lasts several seconds as the cowboy keeps a hold of her gaze, letting her dwell in his emerald greens, before Bobby breaks the moment unintentionally by elbowing his head wrangler when he tries to pick one of the sausages out of the pan in front of him. Relieved, Y/N breathes and take a swig of her glass of orange juice. How many times does she have to remind herself that the only reason she’s here, is to prove to her dad that she can run her own business? She has to stay focused, remember what Jo told her, and do what she came here to do. Yet the presence of the tall and handsome cowboy with dark blonde hair, gorgeous eyes, and a killer smile is going to make that difficult. She doesn't even have to make it through the first day to figure that much.

     Honestly, Y/N has no idea what she was so worried about in the weeks prior to this internship. Working at the ranch proves to be hard labor, but the physical aspect of the job is about the only one she needs to adjust to. The rookie picks up quickly and doesn't have to be told twice, which is noticed by the crew. Garth especially compliments her on occasion, which fuels her confidence and motivates her to a degree that the soreness of her body is forgotten.      After breakfast, the trail horses are brought in and tied up at the tack up area, where she and Jo prepare them for the first ride of the day. While handling some of the four-legged workers, she tries to remember the names and characteristics of each. She gets to know Teddy, an easy-going, brown gelding whose full name is Ted Nugent, and Pink Floyd, a small chestnut with a peculiar scar on his shoulder in the shape of a triangle; a visible memory of an old injury he suffered when he ran through a fence as a foal. Then there's Bowie, a red roan with a zigzag marking on his forehead, Joplin, a dark mare, and Dylan, a pinto coming of age but is still going strong. Seems like Dean got a little carried away when naming the animals, it’s hard to miss the rock theme.       Jo takes a group of five inexperienced riders for a slow ride, while Garth continues to tack up training horses for the head wrangler, so that he can get off one and on the next. At that pace, eight horses have their workout before lunch. Between sweeping floors and turning out horses, Y/N manages to catch a glimpse of the training, and even though she doesn't want to get caught leaning on a broom, she can't stop her gaze from drifting over to the arena. The skilled rider is a joy to watch, and not just because he looks good doing it. Not once does he use force to control the horse, and the extent of his patience is remarkable, especially when one of the young stallions acts up. Without a shadow of a doubt, Y/N is going to learn a lot from him, she can't wait for her horse to arrive. 

     After lunch - which again is served by Ellen and tastes absolutely devine - the crew retreats to the bunkhouse for their two-hour siesta. Ash lays across the entire couch, completely out of it and snoring loudly, while Benny watches daytime television. The others went back to their rooms, all but Y/N. Impatiently, she draws marks in the sand with the heel of her boot, as she sits on the lowest step of the porch, gazing at the road that meets the private drive, about a half a mile further up. The heat is close to unbearable, even here in the shade droplets of sweat run down her chest. She understands the necessity of the break after experiencing her first day in extreme conditions, because working in these temperatures would be torture. A fly bugs the young woman; she smacks the insect out of her face while she wonders when the special delivery will finally arrive. The transporter called an hour ago that he had made good time and would probably arrive at the ranch half past noon. Which would be right about now, according to her phone. Y/N sighs and snaps her eyes at the main road again. 

     “What time are you expecting your horse?"      Dean slowly walks up from behind. She can feel the wood creak under her as he steps closer. His voice is enough to make her breath hitch a little, although she’s not sure if that’s because his sudden appearance startles her, or because he simply has that effect on her respiration.      Quick to cover her surprise, she answers him without moving from her spot. “Five minutes ago.”      Now she does look over her shoulder, watching him come closer with two cans of Coca-Cola in his hands. He offers her one, which she takes gladly and thanks him for, then she straightens herself again.       “I hope she’s alright,” she sighs, expressing her concern as she opens the drink.      “It’s a long drive from Maine, ain't it?” Dean assumes.      “Thirty-five hours on the trailer,” she replies. “They stopped for the night in Tulsa, but still.”

     He leans against one of the struts supporting the roof. The wrangler sips on his cool drink, clasping his lips around the opening in the can as he tilts his head back and takes a swig, exposing his neck as he does so. Y/N can't help but notice. Damn, that jawline… She snaps out of it and rips her eyes from him before he catches her swooning. Good call, because he looks down on her a second later.      “What’s your horse's name?”      “Meadowsweet.” She smiles.      “Quarter?” he asks again.      Y/N nods. “Sired by Gunner.”      Dean raises his brows impressed. Gunner is a leading National Reining Horse Association stallion, one of the few to earn over five million dollars in offspring, and is inducted into the NRHA Hall of Fame. Foals from his descent are known for their talent and eagerness to perform. That stallion has brought some of the best reining horses in the world.      “Don't worry about it. The transporter would have called if anything had occurred,” he reassures, comfortingly. “And all the horses that come through those barn doors, settle in just fine. These lands have this… peacefulness over them. It’s a good place for the soul, horse and human. You’ll see.”      Calmed by his gentle words, Y/N lets her gaze drift off, the corner of her mouth curling up. Then she glances up at the wrangler, whose eyes haven't left her yet.      “Has it been good for you, too?”       He scoffs. “Like you wouldn't believe.”      It's the way he delivers those words, that tempts Y/N to read the man in her company. How old would he be? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine, maybe? But it's without a doubt that in those years he has been through plenty. The cynical chuckle before he spoke, the way he averted his eyes immediately, those tiny tells just unraveled more than his confident talk and cheery appearance plus Jo’s warnings about the wrangler combined.       “How come?” she asks before she can stop herself.      A little thrown back by her unexpected question, Dean steals a glance, grinning at her nosiness. Instantly the blood rushes to her face again as she closes her eyes and covers her face with both hands. God! Why can't you simply think through what you are about to say before you blurt it out?!       “Sorry, that was inappropriate. Again,” she excuses herself.      “No, no. It’s quite alright,” Dean says, putting her mind to rest.      Usually, the wrangler isn’t eager on opening up about his past. It's something he keeps to himself and only very few know more about. He closed that book a long time ago, so he keeps it simple.      “My mom died when I was young, Dad wasn't around much,” he explains. “I came to live on the ranch when I was fourteen and I never left.”      Silenced, Y/N watches him, eyes big and filling with sympathy.       “No brothers and sisters?” she wonders.      Now she pulls on his heartstrings, even though Dean tries to suppress what he feels within. Yet his jaw flexes, his head tips down as the brightness in his eyes fades.      “I have a brother. But - uh...  He ran away from home before I left myself,” Dean elaborates. “I haven’t seen him since. I don't know where he's at.”

     With empathy heavy on her chest, she tries to think of something to say in order to turn this conversation on a less depressing course than the one it’s sailing now. Y/N breathes out, though. Seems like for the first time since the two met, she’s clueless about what to say, and so she states the obvious.      “I'm sorry,” she says, internally kicking herself in the head for bringing out the skeletons in his closet.       “Don't be. I landed on my feet,” Dean assures, trying to take away her discomfort with a smile. “These lands, this ranch; this is home. And the people runnin’ it and workin’ here are my family. Life’s good.”      He means that: she can tell, because the passion returns in his powerful gaze. Soothed by the sight of his contentment, she smiles down at the empty can in her hand, which she’s torn the cap from.

     “And you? Any siblings?” Dean returns, genuinely interested.      “Yeah, three brothers actually. All older than me.” She grins at that.       “Whoa, that must have been a challenge.” The wrangler chuckles as he takes the last sip of his Coke.      “Not so much. They toughened me up and when it came down to it, and were always there to protect me. Plus, I did learn how to build a treehouse and I’m a pretty good wrestler too,” she adds.       The cowboy smirks imagining it. “And how does a girl like you know so much about Led Zeppelin?” he wonders.      Y/N furrows her brow. “A girl like me ?”      “Yeah, I mean… Y’know,” he mutters, a little unsettled by her tone. “From upstate, young, twenty… something.” Shit. He's digging his own grave here.       “Twenty-four,” she fills in for him, amused by his stumbling, “and I like to think I have an old soul, but really it was my Grandfather who introduced me to music.”      “He did a good job teaching you then,” Dean compliments, looking down at his cowboy boots and still trying to overcome the near-miss.      “He did. He was amazing. Meadow was actually a gift from him,” she tells.

     Was. He was amazing.

     Dean peeks at the intriguing woman from under his lashes. He doesn't need to be a genius to figure out that her Granddad isn't amongst them anymore. A short silence follows as Dean ponders on how to continue the conversation, when a dust cloud on the driveway catches his attention. His focus on the horizon triggers Y/N to get up and look in the same direction.

A bright shimmer of sunlight bounces off the aluminum trailer pulled by a red Dodge, which approaches slowly in the distance. A whirlwind of excitement blows through her as she looks over at Dean. Then she gets down from the porch and heads off to meet them.      “Need help unloading?” he checks before following his intern.      “Yeah, I can use a hand,” she says, looking over her shoulder.      And so he follows. By the time they reach the square in front of the horse barn, the pickup turns onto the parking lot and comes to a stop. A middle-aged man with a black beard turns towards her after getting out of his truck, reaching out to shake her hand.      “Y/N L/N?” he checks.      She nods. “Yes, that’s me.”      A loud neigh sounds from the trailer, followed by stomping. Meadow heard her owner loud and clear and her response puts a smile on the cowgirl’s face. She missed her horse, but it seems like her friend is glad to see her human too.       “Was she okay?” Y/N checks with the transporter as she circles the trailer.      “A little restless every now and then, but other than that she did fine,” he says, taking the safety pins out of the heavy handle, turning it open.

     Dean had done so on the other side as well and the men lower the ramp to the gravel. Inside two pointy small ears are pinned towards the light. Meadowsweet's trademark white face stands out in the shade as she yanks on the chain that prevents her from turning around. It’s for her own good, too much freedom during travel could cause her to lose her balance and fall. But she doesn't understand the restrain, and the mare seems to be insulted by the limitation to her movement. All she wants now is to get out, eat, drink, and stretch her legs.      A soft low purr comes Y/N’s way, her nostrils flaring. After days on the road, taken away from home by a man she didn't recognize, a familiar face calms her. Softly hushing her horse, Y/N walks up to her, takes the lead rope, and clasps it to her handcrafted halter. She releases the chain and pushes open the divider, guiding her horse down the ramp while both Dean and the driver stand on each side of it, making sure Meadow doesn't step next to the lit. Alert, the mare looks around, taking in her new environment. The Arizona sun shines on her light brown coat, revealing a beautiful copper shine. A second neigh reverberates under the high roof of the barn when Y/N leads the Quarterhorse to the first stable on the right. Her call is countered by an echo produced by the other horses, who seem to welcome their new neighbor. Dean follows with the luggage, the heavy saddle under one arm and dragging her large tack box on wheels behind him.      “What did you pack? Bricks?” he complains, grimacing, moving the equivalent of a woman’s suitcase on holiday; a lot of stuff she’s never going to use or wear, but might need.

     Y/N presses her lips together and chuckles a little embarrassed. Yeah, maybe she went a little overboard while packing. She undoes Meadow from her halter and lets her be for a bit, smiling at how the mare curiously sniffs every inch of her new box. When she has decided her stable is safe, she circles around a couple of times, adjusts her bedding by digging through the wood shavings with her front leg, after which she lowers to her knees and falls on her side, taking a long-anticipated roll. She rolls over once, twice, then gets up and shakes off the sawdust, after which she looks at her human friend.      "Satisfied?” Y/N asks, amused.      Meadow sighs, pushing out a long breath, and starts eating the hay; seems like the Queen approves. Shaking her head with a smirk on her face, her owner closes the box. The driver walks up to her with the paperwork and a pen.      “If you could sign this, I’ll be out of your hair,” he requests, handing over the papers and Meadow's FEI passport.       Y/N leaves her autograph on the bottom line and hands the paperwork back. After exchanging another handshake, the man returns to his truck and starts the engine. As they watch him drive off, she lets out a sigh, the weight of the world finally falling off her shoulders.        “Told ya she would be fine,” Dean reminds her, leaning on the stable door and admiring the beautiful mare in the box.      Y/N smiles as she joins him, forking her fingers together while resting her arms on the edge.       “Thanks,” she responds, genuinely.

     He was right, and for the first time since the young woman arrived, a sense of true calm washes over her. Now that Meadow is here, everything is exactly how it should be. Her horse arrived safely and seems fit and well. Y/N can spend time with her again, more than she ever could when she was still in Uni. Now the adventure can truly begin.      “I’m heading back to the bunkhouse. Work starts at two again,” Dean informs, assuming that his intern plans to stay.      She watches him walk off down the alley between the stables, and takes a short second to appreciate the view. His hickory colored western hat is tipped forward to protect his face from the sun, the collar of his plaid blouse up, the hem at the bottom tucked into his jeans. Denim covers his O-shaped legs, which are probably a result of spending years of his life in the saddle. A muscular back, broad shoulders, strong arms. It doesn't matter from which angle she admires him, he’s insanely gorgeous. Another result of all that training and hard work is his well-shaped a--      A wet nose slobbers over Y/N’s face, pulling a startled gasp from her. Meadow took the liberty to awaken her owner from her thoughts, right after drinking from the automatic waterer. Oh well, she needed a shower anyway.      “It’s good to see you too, sugar,” she laughs, petting the horse. “Talking about sugar…”      She digs deep in her pocket. The motion of her hand alone triggers Meadow to extend her neck and ask for the treat with her intense dark eyes. Y/N finds a sugar cube, takes her horse’s favorite candy out and feeds it to the bay mare. Grateful, she crunches the sweet between her molars and begs for more, but her owner holds up her hands innocently.       “I'm out,” she says, sorry to disappoint.      Not taking her words for granted, the smart animal searches her boss’s pockets, first left, then right, then gives her a look that expresses something along the lines of ‘are you kidding me?’ To make it up to the mare, Y/N rubs her neck, softly scratching near her withers. Clearly enjoying the grooming, the mare nozzles her upper lip and turns her head a little. The cowgirl chuckles at the sight, once again realizing how much she missed her company. She mist her whiskers brushing against her hand as she reaches to touch her, and the gentleness in her eyes when she’s at ease.      Y/N’s hand lingers on the flat surface of Meadow’s forehead, between her eyes. It’s a horse’s blind spot, where she can't see her. Touching a horse there requires trust, yet there isn't a single fiber in Meadow’s body that isn't comfortable with her owner, not even her instincts. The mare even lowers her head further, a sign of relaxation and submission. Y/N lets her hand slide down her face and rest on her strong jaw, as she lays her cheek against Meadow’s white blaze, closing her eyes for a moment.      Dean talked about home earlier, how the ranch is his.      Well, this right here, this moment with her Meadow, is hers.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part five here