#business owner!Dean

[batcavescolony]

S5 E5 Supernatural

I'm sorry guest star Paris Hilton?

Sam and Dean's faces at the local cops stupidity 💀💀💀. Dean geeking out over James Dean's car (but it's a fake rip). They travel around the country and didn't think to learn Spanish? I feel like that'd be helpful. Don't meet your heros I guess? I feel bad for Sam, he feels bad for releasing Lucifer. Did they have Paris Hilton make fun of celebrities? Finally some reconciliation! We're moving forward, progress!

[freudyou]

AU where Dean survives his barn impalement and when he wakes up from his coma or whatever in the hospital, he immediately grabs Sam by the lapels and is like “I KNOW WHAT I NEED TO DO WITH MY LIFE I SAW IT IN MY COMA DREAM.” So he opens a bar with a name that he thinks is hilarious

[philalethistry]

Looking over the candidates for the democratic primaries... God I want Bernie back

[prentissluvr]

but daddy i love him — sam winchester

cw : gn!empath!reader, light angst, fluff, some canon typical violence, demons, mentions of weapons, emotional manipulation/some emotional abuse in reader's past/presence, dean's kinda mean for a bit, kissing, food/drink mentions, poor editing, 11.3K words. listen to but daddy i love him by taylor swift. requested !

summary : you were raised sheltered from the world, but once you meet sam, you come to understand what freedom means. ౨ৎ . . . [ empath : has the ability to read and manipulate anyone's emotions. not the psychology kind lol ]

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

you’re not a demon, though you’re certainly no angel. in all technically, you suppose that you’re closer to a demon since they used to be human. not that you’d want to be put in the same box as any single demon, but you know that they feel some emotions. angels, you’re told, do not. to you, that’s quite a strange concept. someday, you’d like to meet one to see if it’s true.

and though you are not a demon, you’ve learned very well how to be like one, or at the very least how to feel like one. this is only helpful because your uncle, the demon who raised you (who is not your real uncle, nor related to you at all) wants you to be just like him. that implies being entirely uncaring and mostly unfeeling, with the exceptions for feelings being guiltless, hatred, annoyance, generally anything negative and parallel with aggression, and pleasure in the face of enacting pain or evil things upon somebody else.

having been surrounded by exactly that for as long as you can remember, you have no trouble pretending to be that way. in actuality, you find it totally impossible to embody it in truth. you, opposite to demons, are especially in tune with all aspects of your humanity. this does include the bad, but you’ve spent your life clinging to and longing for the good. plus, you don’t particularly enjoy experiencing the constant negativity that rolls off of most demons and right onto you. although your powers are geared towards other humans and you can’t read or manipulate demons’ emotions as easily, you learned to use your powers on them before anything else.

today, you accompany a crossroads demon, as per usual. your uncle has you trying a new tactic to aid in soul-collection. unfortunately for you, it's been working well and you have to pretend more often than not that your powers are failing you when they’re working just fine. you feel like a door-to-door salesman for guaranteed painful death and torture until one’s humanity is ripped away, all under the guise of pretty or petty dreams come true.

your accompanying demon, russell, is one of your least favorites. you don’t really like any of them, but unfortunately, russell is one of your uncle’s most trusted. you think it’s stupid, because you’re able to tell that he’s a coward and most likely not as trust-worthy as your uncle thinks. personally, you just find him annoying.

russell approaches the next house, knocking on the door as you lag behind. the man at the last house sold his soul in exchange to look ten years younger. not everyone exchanges their lives for such stupid reasons, but when they do, it makes you feel extra disgusted by the work you have to participate in. but for the sake of fooling your uncle, you pretend to enjoy it. someday, you might get away… you just don’t know what you’d do or how you’d survive.

the owner of the house opens the door, and the second she sees you and russell, dressed in suits and smiling all fake, her annoyance and skepticism immediately become apparent to you. your first order of business is to push that away and replace it with openness, curiosity, and a little bit of desire to get her to listen to you. since you “failed” at the first three houses and were successful at the last one, russell expects you to make this one work as well. it takes a bit of concentration to keep everything subtle and slow so that she doesn’t notice anything too strange.

when she greets you, she smiles a little and you know that you were successful. you let russell do all the talking as you continually feed the woman more desire and assuredness. little by little, you tug at her hesitation, pulling it away as russell gives her his pitch.

“anything you could ever dream of for the small price of your soul!” he lies about how small of a price it is and you mask your abundant discomfort. the more and better you do for your uncle, the more he lets you off of your figurative leash. the woman, mrs. hadley, as she introduced herself, is on the verge of saying yes. you’re seated in the living room as she goes on about how her one wish is for her young son to be treated well at school. you debate sabotaging the deal to save her, when the door bangs open and two men burst into the house, both sporting various weapons.

mrs. hadley screams and your concentration snaps. immediately, her fear and confusion wash over you, along with everything else that the two men and russell are feeling. suddenly quite overwhelmed, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before remembering you’re under threat. russell curses loudly, and when you snap your eyes open, he’s halfway across the room as he sprints full speed for the back door.

“sam!” shouts one of the men, nodding towards you and the frightened mrs. hadley as he takes off after russell. the other man, now dubbed sam, points his knife at you and begins rehearsing a latin exorcism.

“i’m not a demon, i swear,” you say, slowly standing and putting your hands up in surrender. his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you also sense his urgency and protectiveness, but you don’t sense as much aggression in him as you’d expected. the rush of that which you’d felt before must have been from the other man.

“then what are you?” he asks, voice gruff as he slowly approaches, trying to carefully manuever in between you and mrs. hadely.

“i’m human,” you answer, honest but withholding the full truth. “i promise,” you plead, trying to gauge his reaction without actually manipulating his feelings. when sam reaches mrs. hadley, he holds his arm in front of her protectively. there’s still fear and utter confusion rolling off of her.

“wh–what the hell is going on?” she asks, voice panicked.

“it’s alright,” sam reassures, trying to be as gentle as possible. “you just can’t make that deal. it’ll get you killed.”

“what? killed, i– but it seemed– it seemed fine?” you can feel doubt creep into mrs. hadley as well as she questions why she trusted you and russell so much without any real reason.

“trust me, whatever they promised you, it’s not worth it,” sam emphasizes. mrs. hadely goes to speak again, but sam returns his attention back to you. “what are you doing with a demon?”

“i… they have me trapped,” you say in a half-lie.

he clenches his jaw, but most of his distrust subsides because he feels more concerned for mrs. hadley than you. he tucks his knife somewhere accessible, and turns to the woman to comfort her. he tries to explain without too much detail that she should never sell her soul to anyone, but that it’s best if she tries to forget this all. but it’s clear to both you and him that she’s just panicking more and more. you easily read the way that sam wants to help her and it makes you want to do the same.

you mean to just send mrs. hadley a touch of calm and comfort, just so sam can get through to her. but you yourself are panicked and overwhelmed, never having been in such an out-of-control situation, and your strong desire to help her comes out unfiltered and unhindered by your usual careful control when you deal with humans. suddenly, mrs. hadley is grinning from joy, even laughing a little. for a moment, this seems fine to you. you fixed her fear, didn’t you?

but sam turns even more confused and worried. this, in turn, confuses you and breaks your concentration, and she falls back into an even stronger fear as she realizes starkly that she’s been experiencing emotions that aren’t her own.

she bursts into tears. “what– what was that?” she cries. you feel quite overwhelmed by her strong emotions.

you frown deeply. “i– i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to– i mean, i was just trying to help. i didn’t want want you to feel so afraid. i can help, though, i promise. i just– i was distracted and humans can be so sensitive.” you begin to approach with your hands still in the air, but you halt when her fear spikes even more and sam’s hesitance returns in full. they don’t want you near. you consider manipulating both of their emotions, just to get them to allow you closer, but you think better of it at the last second. they might grow even more wary if they notice the change in their own feelings.

“did you do that?” sam asks.

you deflate in guilt. “i’m sorry,” you say again, filling your voice with sincerity, “i didn’t mean to scare you,” you look at mrs. hadley, then proceed carefully, “but i can help, just a little, i won’t do anything crazy– i– i can’t do anything crazy, i promise. and i can make sure that no one ever bothers you again. you don’t have to let me close if you don’t want me to, but i really can help. just to… to calm things down a little and– and leave a little room for you to process. or, of course, i can just go and you’ll never see me or that guy again.” you look between sam and mrs. hadley, trying to calm yourself so you can get a proper read on both of their emotions without overloading yourself with all the information. mrs. hadley is just about as confused and scared as before, but you think that sam’s reassuring presence is helping her. you’re not so sure that your words have done anything to help. sam himself is still hesitant, but as some of his wariness slips away, you think he might be willing to hear you out or at least let you go unscathed.

“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” comes a gruff voice from behind you, along with the kiss of cold metal on the back of your neck. it’s a gun, you presume. you slowly lift your hands back up, having forgotten about the other man’s presence when he disappeared to take care of russell. you turn your attention to his feelings instead of the other two in case you need to use your powers to try and save yourself. he’s got aggression, calm anger, and a whole lot of protectiveness practically spilling out of him. he thinks you’re dangerous. he’s not necessarily wrong, but you really aren’t a danger to them, not unless you have to be.

“i’m telling the truth, i swear. please, just– just let me go.” you keep your voice steady, but pleading, trying not to let on just how scared you are but also appeal to their sympathy. you’re in danger, something that you’re completely unused to despite the way you grew up all around it.

“and let you get back to those demon bitches? not a chance. what even are you?” the man’s voice is unforgiving as he digs the gunpoint further into your skin, pressing for answers. you wince.

“dean, wait,” sam interrupts, “i don’t think they’re trying to hurt anyone,” he says, trying to reason before dean gets any more violent.

“sam, they’re clearly working with demons. i think that qualifies as trying to hurt people. we don’t even know if they’re human,” dean counters.

you’re about to speak again in your own defense when a familiar voice fills your ears.

“it’s always you boys, isn’t it? i should have known that the winchesters would crash my little soul-collecting party,” your uncle drawls.

“crowley,” sam growls, and you’re suddenly flooded with his anger.

your uncle completely ignores sam in favor of dean. “i kindly ask that you let my sweet pet go, squirrel.”

dean turns around, pulling you with him. “so they’re with you?” dean asks, voice accusatory.

“they are. and if you don’t hand them over, i will knock you out cold without a second thought. your choice, of course, darling,” crowley quips. you’re highly confused. the three clearly know each other, but your uncle has never mentioned anyone like the “winchesters” before. dean grows even more suspicious of you, sam confused and worried, and you know very well that crowley is only barely covering up his total anger. he’s anything but pleased to have found you in this situation.

“tell me why, and i’ll hand them over,” dean bargians, not realizing just how much he’s pissing crowley off. your uncle doesn’t even wait to answer before sending dean flying across the room and grabbing your wrist.

“let’s go,” he grumbles, tugging you along with him. you glance back at sam, who moves forward, trying to stop crowley until he too gets flung into the wall.

“uncle!” you shout in protest. “wait, i need to–”

“absolutely not,” he shouts back, “what the hell were you thinking? how’d you mess up a simple deal so horribly?”

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly remembering yourself. he’ll only grow more angry if you continue to protest.

“damn those winchesters,” he grumbles to himself. as he drags you home, he continually complains about them, cursing that you got mixed up with them and pounding into your head that you should never, ever get involved with the winchesters.

⟢⟢⟢

honeybee cafe is just about the only solace that you have. it’s away from your uncle and the other demons, the place you always come when you’re allowed out without supervision. on top of that, it’s small and quiet, and you never visit during crowded hours. technically, you’re required by crowley to stay somewhere with other people so you can practice your powers on them. you picked this cafe for it’s cozy, quiet atmosphere, and the general lack of patrons from one to three pm. that way, you’re never overwhelmed by too many emotions. it’s usually just you, another regular or two, and the few workers. maybe it’s a little odd, but you feel secretly close with the people whose emotions you tune into over and over again. and you certainly don’t manipulate their emotions as crowley likely wishes you would.

you always sit in the corner furthest from the door, facing the rest of the small shop so that you can keep an eye on anyone who comes in or chooses to stay inside. sitting with your favorite beverage and a book you picked up from the library beforehand, you relish the comfort and warmth of the sunlight coming in from the window behind you. your room at home has no windows, and that just about kills you. you love windows.

only the soft tinkle of the bell on the cafe door interrupts the focus you lend to the book in front of you, and you look up on instinct. your breath catches in your throat as you immediately recognize the man who walks in. he doesn’t notice you, but you watch him as he orders a coffee. as he waits off to the side, you turn slightly, and you’re too late to cast your eyes down before he catches your gaze. his face lights up in recognition and surprise. he takes a step towards you before he’s interrupted by the barista’s call of his name. quickly, he takes the cup from their hand and thanks them before turning back to you. you weren’t planning on speaking to him, not after your strange first encounter and crowley’s warnings against him, but you feel an odd sort of relief when it becomes clear that he wants to approach you, to talk to you. he had left an impression on you when you’d met. he’d just seemed so… good.

his eyes flicker around the cafe as he comes closer, likely looking for signs of demons.

“i’m alone,” you assure him, smiling carefully as he gets close enough. he nods, slowly sitting across from you when you nod at the seat. “though i have to be back by evening or someone will come looking for me,” you explain, mouth forming a small frown as you think about it. he’s confused and concerned as he looks at you, and it feels sort of nice to guess that he’s maybe worried about you.

he seems unsure of what to say, so he just jumps right into it. “i never caught your name. i’m sam winchester, though i’m sure you got that before. can i ask… are you an empath? i did some research since we last met.” he gives you a tense sort of smile, not because he’s nervous, but just because this second meeting feels very awkward.

you nod and give him your name before anything else. “and yes, i am an empath,” you confirm, unsure if you should explain further or not. he seems to understand well enough.

he’s a bit more hesitant the next time he speaks. “and can you explain your… situation? you said you were trapped, and crowley seemed very possessive of you… but i thought i heard you call him uncle? whatever it is, i can help you get away from him, my brother and i have dealt with crowley too many times to count.”

his immediate offer to help and instinct to suggest you just leave crowley are both sort of overwhelming to you, but a part of you likes his words.

“oh. i– well, it’s complicated. crowley, he’s– he’s sort of my only family.” sam’s eyebrows raise a little in questioning. “we’re not actually related, or anything, but he raised me. he’s– well, he’s taught me everything i know and… i can’t– i can’t really leave. besides, he’s really not all that bad,” you try to excuse, suddenly feeling oddly defensive in a way that you can’t really explain. “and i get days to myself like this, i– i have my freedom, i just… before, i didn’t want you to think i was trying to hurt people, or that i like to, but uncl– crowley doesn’t really know… that i don’t like the things that he… that he asks me to do for him.”

suddenly, this wave of sad understanding rolls over you from sam, and you’re not sure why. his face doesn’t change much as he listens, but to you it seems like he thinks you’ve said something so sad.

“but it’s alright,” you quickly try to amend, “he thinks i’m weaker than i really am. that way he doesn’t suspect when most demon deals i’m a part of fail. i have to… i have to get some to work so that he thinks i’m trying, but i promise i try to hurt the least amount of people possible. and.. and he still lets me have my days out when the deals fall through. i botched two yesterday, but i’m still here, aren’t i?” you attempt at sounding lighthearted, but sam’s sadness doesn’t go away much. instead, you just feel compassion blooming from him as well.

“i understand,” he says kindly, “i didn’t think you were trying to hurt people. i believe you.” he’s completely sincere and you realize that that’s not something you’re too used to from almost anybody you talk to.

“thank you,” you sigh in relief, smiling and trying to show him that you’re sincere too. “your brother? dean?” sam nods. “he didn’t believe me,” you state.

sam cringes a little. “he can be like that. he–” he purses his lips, looking for the right words, “he doesn’t trust very easily. he’s very suspicious of people he doesn’t know.”

“i don’t think he really thought i was a person,” you say, starkly honest in a way that surprises sam for a moment. you don’t quite understand what his surprise was for, but he quickly shoves it away before you can ask about it.

“he’s– he’s working on that. i’m sorry he made you feel that way,” sam says, truly feeling apologetic.

“well, i didn’t feel that way. just him. i know that i’m a person,” you smile, trying to reassure him and wishing he didn’t feel sorry.

sam smiles back a little. “right,” he nods, ���well, i’m still sorry he thought that way about you. he’ll come around.”

“thank you, sam. but you don’t have to feel sorry, it’s not your fault he felt that way,” you assure, completely sincere and trying to work out why sam would feel sorry about something he didn’t cause, nor that he agrees with. he’s already proved himself to be kind and believing enough.

“sure,” he agrees, trying to figure out the right way to explain what he means as he begins to understand how truly sheltered from normal human interaction you’ve been. “but i know how it feels to have someone doubt how human you are and that it’s not a good feeling. so i’m just sorry and empathetic that you had to experience that.”

you nod in understanding. “ah, well, that’s kind of you… you’re right. it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to feel, but i understand that dean was feeling sort of afraid and definitely mistrustful. you didn’t really find me in the most trustworthy position. but if i meet him again, i hope you’re right that he’ll come around. i really am just a person, but i get that i’m, you know, not one hundred percent normal. really, empathy’s a very human thing, mine’s just… exaggerated, i guess.” you look at him, head cocked to the side in confusion. “but you, sam? why would someone doubt how human you are? you feel things just like a human.”

sam gives you a half smile. there’s a tinge of bitterness when he answers, but the way he talks and feels makes it seem as though time as softened most anger or sadness. yet, it also feels as though he’s never really talked about this much.

“i used to have psychic powers. i’d have visions, these premonitions before people died.” he explains it as something so casual, and he’s trying to feel that way about it, but he really seems to care. “in a way, i was barely different from you. of course, i’m still not. we’re both people.”

“really?” you ask, curious, “i didn’t know other people had that sort of thing. and your powers? they’re gone now?”

“it seems like it. i haven’t had a vision in a long time,” he answers.

“you seem relieved by that,” you note. sam picks up on the tinge of sad disappointment in your voice.

“i am,” he answers honestly, “but not because it’s bad to have those sort of powers. i just didn’t really enjoy getting visions of people dying violently.” he gives you a tight-lipped smile to show you he’s okay being lighthearted about it all.

you relax. “right, of course. that must have been hard,” you give him a small, kind smile, “i can feel that it was hard. i’m glad you don’t have to go through that anymore.” you’re all sincerity, and sam smiles right back.

“can i ask what it’s like for you? to have these powers?” he asks, careful and kind. he wonders if you get headaches or terribly tired of feeling other people’s emotions all the time, but he doesn’t want to make you talk about it if you’d rather not.

you’re slightly taken aback by the question, and not because you don’t want to talk about it. you just never really have at all before. you realize the simultaneous oddness and loveliness of this conversation. not once have you spoken about your powers with another human before, much less one who has some understanding about them.

“well… i guess i’ve never really thought about it much. just because i’ve never known anything else. i honestly don’t remember much from when i was young, but crowley’s been teaching me how to use them for as long as i remember. it’s both better and worse with practice, i guess. and the way i learned was kind of odd.” you pause, unsure if sam wants to really hear about it all. but he gives you an encouraging nod and you feel genuine interest coming from him, so you continue.

“i started learning with demons, but they feel a whole lot less than humans do. and i can’t feel or manipulate their emotions as easily or strongly since my powers are geared towards humans. but since that’s how i learned, it’s decently easy now, though it technically takes more effort than it does for humans. now i’m practicing on people, and it’s sort of too easy. it takes much more control because i’m used to exerting more power on demons. and humans feel things much more strongly, and are much more sensitive to change. i’ve gotten much better, but if i’m distracted or overwhelmed, my control slips. that’s what happened with mrs. hadley.” suddenly, you remember her. “is she okay?” i made things worse for her, didn’t i? you think.

“she’ll be alright,” sam says. “she was shaken up, but she was doing much better when i left. don’t worry too much about her.”

you almost want to ask again, if she’ll really be okay, but it seems that sam will most likely give you the same answer he just did. “okay,” you relent. then you realize you did more explaining about how your powers work than what it’s like for you. “to really answer your question; it’s my norm, and i’m not sure what it would be like without them. but sometimes i think it might be nice if i didn’t have them. i would’t have to help the demons, and it can be… overwhelming. i’m used to the demons; their emotions are easier to tune out. but with people? well, they just feel a lot. of course, i’m used to my own feelings, but to feel that, plus everything else around me, especially when someone could be feeling so much all at once is just… it can be a lot. i’m learning how to tune it out, but honestly, i’m still figuring it all out.”

sam thinks you look a little embarrassed when you finish, and he certainly doesn’t want you to feel that way. “that makes sense,” he reassures, “i barely had any control over my own powers. i can’t imagine how difficult it is to be in control of something so complicated and fickle as emotions. most people can barely deal with their own emotions. being able to feel everyone else’s too can’t be easy at all.

you nod in simple agreement. “it isn’t. but i’m also glad for it. sometimes, unc– crowley has me use it for his, you know, demon things, and i don’t like that. but i think my powers are part of the reason why i’m able to hate it. i’m so connected to humanity, the good and bad in everything that people feel, that no matter how i grew up, i’ll always have empathy in its rawest form. and though i don’t get too many chances, and i mess it up sometimes, i can help others when i’m away from the demons. last week, there was this girl in here,” you smile lightly at the memory as you begin to recount it to sam, “she was smiling and nice to everyone, but i could feel how just sad she was. i paid for her drink and told her she looked pretty, and the way that it made her feel… i didn’t even have to use my powers. she was just so grateful and happy that she teared up. and i barely did anything at all. that’s what keeps me going,” you say, completely honest, “knowing that i can help and that it’s my choice when i do it.” you feel like some huge weight has been lifted from your chest. you’ve never said this all aloud, and certainly not for someone else to hear. but something about sam and his sincerity and goodness makes you feel comfortable enough to say almost anything at all.

sam looks at you with a sort of admiration and total understanding, and that alone is almost enough to overwhelm you. it seems like, in all your experience in feeling, sam is showing you more, all by himself and without even trying. to be understood, so fully in so little time, is not something you’d ever felt for yourself before.

“i know what you mean,” he says, and you absolutely believe him. you want to know him, more than you’ve ever wanted to know anybody. you want to know all about what he feels and why and what he likes and how he knows what you mean without being able to read your feelings like you can his. and you know that he feels just about the same way you do. he wants to know you just as much as you want to know him.

and so you talk and talk and talk until you realize that the sun is dipping low in the sky because you begin telling him how much you love windows. then it’s a sort of frenzy; you’re worried you’ll be caught and try to leave right away, but sam catches your wrist, his calloused hand so gentle on your skin. he asks for your number, but you don’t have a phone, so you tell him to come back at the same time next week if he can. then you rush out and he watches you go.

the next week, sam appears in the cafe doorway at 1:24 pm, and he looks all soft when you smile at him wide. before you have to go again that day, he hands you a cheap phone with both his and dean’s contact already in place. he tells you it’ll make things easier because he might not be able to make it again next week. he doesn’t know when he’ll be on a hunt or not. then he tells you not to call dean unless it's a true emergency; dean still isn’t sure about you.

when you go, you forget to ask him how to use it. so, when he texts you on thursday to tell that he’s on a hunt, and might not make it to your meeting spot on sunday, you’re very unsure what you’re supposed to say. figuring out how to use the phone itself isn’t difficult, but you’re unaware that your simple response of “that’s okay.” is a bit bare-boned and dry in response to his kindly worded message. over time, you get used to how sam talks over text and learn how to emulate it.

and when sam calls you for the first time, you’re completely taken aback. you’d seen people talking over phone calls many times, but you’d never actually done it yourself. you accidentally hang up on him four rings in, but he calls you back a moment later. your surprise is delighted when you hear his voice through the speaker. then you discover it’s just like a demon call without all the blood involved. you also discover that, while you can pick up on emotions from his voice, you can’t really use your powers at all through the phone.

he regretfully interrupts your long spiel about the different pastries you’ve tried from honeybee cafe, telling you he has to go. you ask why, confused that you can’t just keep talking since you’re now able to through the phone. you love talking to him, and you think he enjoys it too. then he tells you that he was just calling to see if you could meet a different day this week, like he asked at the beginning of the call, and that dean expects him to be doing research for a case right now. you ask why he didn’t just text like normal, why he’d call if he didn’t want to keep talking.

“i do want to keep talking,” he reassures, “it’s just that i don’t have the time right now, but i thought calling might be a little easier than texting this time around. but i can call you again later tonight?”

“okay,” you respond, happy enough with that solution. after that, you call him any time you have something to say. he laughs to himself, completely endeared when you call him to tell him that you saw a very cute cat, then hang up seconds later before he can even respond.

eventually, you come to learn that he can’t actually pick up most of the time, but he tries to as much as possible, and that calling is nicer when you both have the time to actually sit down and talk. as you get to know sam, you learn many, many things along with all the questions he answers about himself. 

most amazingly, you learn what it feels like to fall in love with someone fast, and what its like for them to fall right in love with you too. whatever connection that you and sam felt the first few times meeting each other very easily and naturally turns into love. there’s this tug between the two of you, pulling you closer to each other every time you meet. his hand brushes over yours and you smile at him brightly, and you constantly think about each other when you’re apart.

sam tries to take things slow, feeling a little bit like he’s taking advantage of you and your sheltered past. but you know what you want, what you feel, and what he feels too. he wants you just as much as you want him, and you see no reason not to give each other just that.

and it’s so glorious, because you don’t have to read his emotions to know that he loves you back. he makes it so abundantly clear with the way that he acts around you, the way that he looks at you, and the way that he kisses you. you’ve learned that you’d do just about anything for him. you’ve learned how to feel this wild joy that you didn’t know how to feel before.

and it’s true that you’ve learned other, less pleasant things. you hate aiding demon deals even more than you thought. you’ve begun to think that, maybe, almost everything crowley’s raised you to view as the facts of the world, aren’t nearly as true as you thought. you’ve learned that maybe you don’t really owe him so much for raising you or teaching you to use your powers, and you’ve thought the scary thought that he might’ve done it all just to use you. you’ve learned that you should be able to do anything you’d like without having to fear the king of hell’s wrath. that you want to, probably should, get away from crowley, and that feeling like you don’t have a choice isn’t healthy or good for you at all. you’ve learned that you’re still too scared, but you’d rather be with sam, and that every day you spend with him, you become braver.

you’ve also found out that loving in secret can be hard, and that you want to see sam all the time, not just the times when both of you can sneak away. apparently, dean’s still having trouble “coming around” to the idea of you. he doesn’t know that sam’s yours and you’re his. he’s worried that you’re manipulating sam in caring about you, but sam’s reassured you that his love for you is the realest thing that he feels. you couldn’t be more grateful for the fact that he trusts you so much. 

he trusts you so much that every weekend possible, he meets you in the cafe or the nearest motel and you spend hours just talking or laying in comfortable silence together.

he always books the room with the best view from the window and opens the curtains before you get there so that the sunlight bathes the room in warmth and light. today, the late afternoon light is especially pretty, tinted orange and casting a bright hue over yours and sam’s skin as you lounge in the bed together.

his arm is wrapped around your shoulders, both of you propped against the wall with several pillows. you hold his other hand, playing with his fingers and relishing in the feeling of his pretty nose against your cheekbone. because he can’t resist you, he likes to keep his face as close to yours as possible so that it’s very easy to kiss you. his lips will brush against your cheek constantly, and other times he lifts his hand from your upper arm to gently nudge your face closer to his so that he can seal his lips over yours.

you’ve already talked about lots of things today; the best toppings on salad, sam’s most recent case, the symbolism of rhododendron flowers in the book you finished three days ago, and surely more. but the last hour has been quiet, filled with more rustling of blankets, soft sighs, and occasional whispers more than anything else. you’re content, and sam is too, for the most part. often, you try not to be reading sam’s emotions, but spending so much time with him and being so close to him has put you almost irrevocably in tune with his feelings, and you can feel that something’s nagging at him. it’s both good and making him nervous at the same time, but you don’t say a word. you wait for him, until he’s ready to say whatever it is.

it’s when he presses another kiss to your temple that he speaks, voice a more steady volume rather than a whisper this time. “honey?” he says like a question, signaling to you that he’s got something to say, maybe something important that he wants to ask.

“yes, love?” you respond, trying to sound receptive to whatever it is he wants to talk about.

“i, uh, i asked dean if he’d try and meet you, and i managed to convince him. he– he doesn’t know that we’re together, love, but i told him i ran into you again. i think… i think he probably suspects that there’s more to it than that, but he hasn’t said anything about it and i’m taking that as a good sign. would you be okay trying to meet up with him?” he asks, careful and tentative. you can tell that he’s scared to interrupt the balance of things, but that he really wants this. you know how much he hates hiding this all from dean.

“of course,” you assure him quickly. you want the same as him. you don’t want to have to stay furtive and distant from sam so much. but you also have a question. “are we… going to pretend? you know, not to be together?”

sam’s face falls a little at that thought, and at the hint of sadness in your voice when you ask. “i don’t want to,” he starts.

“but you’re nervous,” you gently interrupt.

“a little,” he admits, giving you a small smile, “but i was going to say that it’s up to you. dean could… i don’t know, freak out and i don’t want you to have to worry about that if you don’t want to.” you nod at his words, feeling a bit embarrassed at your interruption. while you try not to let your ability to discern his feelings dictate exactly how you interact with him, you’re still learning that sometimes what someone feels doesn’t always let you predict what they want to say. and of course, he’s sincere about his concern for you, as always.

“well,” you consider his words seriously, “maybe we don’t have to tell him out right, but if he asks? we don’t have to lie?”

“of course, honey,” he nods, “i’d never lie about being with you if he asked directly,” he promises, sealing it with a chaste kiss to your lips. if there’s one thing you know, it’s that sam is proud of loving you, and one of his least favorite things it’s having to hide it. he wants dean to know, he just doesn’t want him to say something scathing to you or try to keep him away from you.

“okay,” you smile. you understand his hatred for hiding it and his nervousness well. you’d be more nervous than he is now about crowley discovering what you’re doing and who you’re meeting with when you’re out on your own. “but you don’t have to worry, sammy. we’ll try to keep him from asking unless he’s reacting well. if he’s still too suspicious, i’ll know and make sure we won’t act in a way that will make him ask. we have time,” you assure.

now sam feels conflicted, because he’s both relieved by your reassurance and sorry you’d have to hide that he’s yours and you’re his. then he’s suddenly hit by this desire to hide anything at all. he doesn’t want to hide from dean or let the way that dean feels get in the way of him seeing and loving you whenever he wants. he wants to show dean just how good you are and how good you are for him.

“thank you,” he says sweetly, “but i don’t want to keep hiding it from him, not for any longer. you’re too important to me for that.”

you want to melt right into him. “you’re important to me too, sam. really, really important. we’ll do this on your time, yeah? whatever you want.”

“yeah,” he smiles, “and we’ll do other things on your time, and others on ours,” he says assuredly. 

you give him a nod as he reminds you that he’s by your side as you build up the courage to get away from crowley. sam has always been cautious about the topic, never saying too much until it was you who brought it up. the first time you told him you’d been thinking about escaping crowley, about realizing you don’t owe him your service or that he doesn’t treat you well, you had felt this surge of pride rush off of sam and onto you. outwardly, he was gentle and quietly encouraging, and he’s been just that since. he reminds you that you should do things at your own pace, but he’s there to do everything he can to help you. the more time you spend with him, the readier you are to stay with him, and just him. unlearning the things that you’ve had beaten into your head for as long as you can remember is nowhere near easy, but it’s undeniably better with sam by your side.

and less than a week later, you’re nervous and wishing for that exact comfort as you wait for him and dean to meet you in the cafe. you sip on your usual order, glad for its familiarity. after ten long minutes, your head shoots up at the sound of the door’s little bell ringing, signaling the arrival of sam and dean. dean walks in first, eyes scanning the small coffee shop until he sees you. you try not to look too nervous as you stand and send him an amicable smile.

you glance at san as he comes up from behind dean, giving you a reassuring smile. the sight of him relaxes you a bit, though you’re so in tune with his emotions by now that his own nervousness immediately washes over you. as dean approaches you try to get a read on his emotions as well. he’s less hostile than you expected, moreso careful, defensive, and begrudging. there’s also a hint of willingness along with it all, and you cling to that. there’s even some trust thrown into the mix, though you assume that it’s reserved only for sam.

“hi,” sam says kindly as he and dean take the seats across from you. you sit along with them.

“hi, sam,” you answer, reciprocating his friendly smile. “hi, dean,” you then say, turning your head to look him in the eye.

“hi,” he echoes, voice gruff. he settles his elbows onto the table top, trying to look casual and at ease, like he’s the one in control of the situation. “let’s, uh, skip the pleasantries. sammy here tells me that we should be protecting you from crowley. i don’t trust you and i’m not convinced you even need protection at all, given that you were helping him with his little demon deals. i’m also not convinced that you’re not using your freaky powers to make him trust you.”

“dean,” sam hisses. you feel a spike of anger from him when dean uses the word ‘freaky.’

“it’s okay,” you say, smiling a little at sam. you honestly appreciate dean’s frankness. “i understand that. i know we didn’t meet in ideal circumstances. i might not trust me either if i were you. and i’m honestly not sure exactly how i can convince you to, but i’d be grateful if you’d let me give it a shot.” dean looks completely skeptical. “without my powers, of course,” you rush to assure him.

“and i’ll know that how? you can literally change the way that i feel. it’s not really a good look for you,” he points out, earning a glare from sam that he completely ignores.

“you’re not entirely wrong,” you acknowledge, “but that’s a lot easier said than done. first of all, the effects of my powers are only temporary. i can only use my powers on you when i’m around you and focused enough. aside from that, you’d most likely be able to tell if i did use them.” dean raises his eyebrows in suspicion, so you go one to explain further. “you’re aware of what i can do, and you’re rightfully wary about it. that means you’ll most likely pick up on even minute changes in your emotions that i make. when you’re aware like that, you can overpower me. my abilities are strong, but frankly, authentic human emotions are stronger. long story short, i can’t do much at all to you. and while sam’s less wary than you to begin with, he’s still aware enough that the same applies to him. either of you would know and be able to overpower my hold on your emotions if i tried anything. the most i can do is get a read on what you’re actually feeling.”

dean still looks skeptical, but you sense a bit of his unease being to slowly slip away. “how do i know you’re telling the truth?” he demands.

without a word, you send just a small wave of trust and comfort through him. for a moment, he relaxes, but just as quickly, his scowl deepens and his own distrust replaces your influence. your affect on his emotions is easily pushed away.

“that’s what it would feel like if i were trying to get you to trust me with my powers. that was about as subtle as i can be with emotional manipulation, and you still noticed. all i can do is tell you that you’re still skeptical, but a little less than when you walked in here. and i can hope that means that you’d be willing to hear me out. i really, honestly could use the help.” you add as much sincerity to your voice as you can, relying on almost all logic to convince him.

dean scowls even more when you mention his feelings and read them accurately, but he does seem to realize that you read a whole lot more than what you actually said aloud. he also can’t say that he thinks you’re lying. it was easy for him to pick up on your influence. almost immediately. “fine,” he grumbles. “no promises, though.”

you nod, relaxing a bit despite his words being less than kind. “that’s fine,” you accept. “thank you.” you glance at sam, suddenly feeling unsure. he gives you a sweet nod and smile and you take a deep breath before forging on. “i don’t know how much sam told you about my… situation. but… for a long time i just didn’t really know i had any other option than to stay with and help crowley. and you don’t have to believe me, but, for the record, i really don’t enjoy helping him. but i think that he’d freak out if i left. and maybe send an army of demons after me, which i do realize would be highly inconvenient for you…,” you trail off, feeling more and more nervous. you take a deep breath to recollect yourself and give your full explanation as to why dean should be compelled to help you. 

“but crowley’s also bound to find out that i’m holding my powers back and purposely sabotaging his demon deals. and let’s just say that nobody wants that. he wants my powers and i don’t know what lengths he’ll go to to get them. so… if you help me, you’ll be keeping my powers out of the hands of the king of hell, which means slowing down his demon deals and making sure i’m not doing whatever evil demon-y things you think that i might.”

you can see dean contemplating, sense his feelings shifting. he intertwines his fingers and looks at sam with a raised eyebrow. sam nods, his expression completely serious. dean turns back to you.

“alright,” he says, “this is nowhere near the worst deal we’ve ever made. we’ll take you with us, keep crowley and his demons at a distance, and you can get out of our hair and onto your own life once things settle down. sound good?” he asks the question like he’s already made the final decision.

“thank you,” you sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. it’s not perfect since he still doesn’t know that you’re totally in love with sam and he’s totally in love with you, but it’s a better start than just about anything else. then it suddenly hits you that you’ll really be walking away from crowley, and that scares you. sam manages to catch your gaze. he looks at you with a hint of concern, but also relief as well. you can see him asking with his eyes, should we tell him? it’s you that gives him an encouraging nod this time. if you want, you’re saying.

he gives you a smile, and you know it means that he’s going to tell dean, right here, right now. you’re about to smile right back, but your gaze catches on movement behind him. your face drops, and you feel the blood drain from it. you don’t catch sam’s worried look that he gives you before he twists in his seat to see what you’re looking at. everyone reacts just a little too late, and crowley slides into the seat beside you.

“well, hello boys! darling,” he looks at you pointedly before turning back to the brothers. “not quite the trio i expected to find today! or ever, considering the fact that i expressly ordered you to stay away from the winchesters, isn’t that right, darling?” he doesn’t even look at you, but you cringe away from him slightly. a wave of protectiveness rolls off of sam as he clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to pull you right away from crowley.

you avoid crowley’s question entirely. “what are you doing here, crowley?”

“crowley? what happened to uncle? you’re breaking my heart, darling,” he drawls, faking a dramatic offense. “just because it’s one of your free days doesn’t mean i can’t visit you, does it? especially not when i get a report that the winchesters are headed inside your favorite cafe. as your caretaker, i was very alarmed. these two are quite dangerous, you should know.”

sam looks at you carefully, wanting to speak up for you, but not wanting to say what’s yours to say or decide what’s yours to decide.

“i’m leaving with them,” you say to crowley, blunt and too scared to force out any words that aren’t simple. “i don’t want to keep helping you collect souls.” pride and relief wash over sam. it feels good to sense.

but crowley’s anger is the opposite. he’s red-hot mad. “after everything i’ve done for you, you’re going to try and leave with the bloody winchesters?”

“i never asked you to do anything for me. it’s not like any of it was ‘for me’ anyway. it was all for your own gain. sam’s done more for me than you ever did.” you let that last sentence slip out without trying, but you find yourself too angry to be in complete control of the things you say. angry, and afraid.

both dean’s and crowley’s eyebrows shoot up. “sounds like you’ve been spending time with dear sam now, have you?”

you swallow, biting the inside of your cheek before speaking. “i– i have. and i’ve learned much more important things from him than i have ever did from you. so you can just give this up and make things easy. i’m not going back with you.”

“i raised you,” crowley growls. “do you know how much i hate children? but i still raised you, taught you to use your powers and made you stronger than you ever would’ve been without me. what the hell could this giant twat have done for you that’s better and more important than that? and don’t dare say something horrible like love. have you never considered the power that you’d have by my side? clearly you learned nothing of loyalty! you’re completely thankless and a complete dimwit if you thought i was going to just let you go. i’m taking you back, whether you like it or not, and you’ll stay in your room until i’m positive you won’t set foot near dearest dean or your stupid, freakishly tall boyfriend. is that understood?”

“no,” you choke out, reaching for sam’s hand across the table. crowley looks like he’s about to explode. dean quickly puts his hand out to interrupt.

“we’re getting stares,” he says, “we can take this outside.”

“no,” sam counters, standing and pulling you up with him, guiding you to stand by his side. “we’re gonna go. and you’re not following, crowley, unless you want my demon blade shoved up your ass.”

“do i look like i care about stares?” crowley seethes, standing and grabbing your other wrist. you yank at his hold to no avail, and sam moves to break his hold as on you he continues to speak. “i will toss both of you winchesters and everyone else in this godforsaken place across the room until you’re all knocked out cold, if that’s what it takes.”

“let me go,” you insist, voice almost a snarl, right as sam tells him to get his hands off of you.

crowley ignores you, even as you struggle against his iron grip. “you first, moose,” he says through gritted teeth.

the second that dean steps closer to the three of you to intervene, crowley flicks his free hand and sends dean crashing into the farthest wall. a few disjointed screams ring through the cafe and spikes of fear wash over you from all the innocent civilians. sam’s anger grows by tenfold and all of it has you squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. you know that crowley wasn’t bluffing when he threatened everyone in the cafe, so you untangle your hand from sam’s and stretch your arm out in front of him before he can lunge at crowley.

“it’s okay, sam,” you say, voice surprisingly calm. you stop struggling and sam looks at you with such desperation and pleading that you almost want to let him fight. but you don’t want him or anyone else hurt. “i’ll be okay. and i’ll be back.”

“no, don’t do this,” sam starts. crowley doesn’t wait for you to answer as he begins dragging you away. you stumble more than once, looking over your shoulder to see sam start after you. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t, sam,” you beg. “it’s okay, i promise.” your voice raises to a shout to make sure he can hear you as crowley pulls you through the door and away from sam.

⟢⟢⟢

you know without a doubt that sam’s looking for you. that he’s pouring every minute into finding you, that he’s probably skipping meals and losing sleep because of it. but you also know that you won’t be easy to find. either way, you’re getting out. out of this godforsaken room with no windows and drab walls and out of this life, away from this fear. and you’re going to do it yourself.

it’s not easy, per se, but it’s not difficult either. just tedious and time consuming. it’s fortunate for you that crowley’s narcissism can blind him to certain things, like the fact that you’re much more adept at using your powers than he thinks you are, or that the demon guarding your door, hazel, hates him for giving her such a boring job. he doesn’t even think that you’re capable of manipulating his emotions, given his extra power as king of hell, and that’s exactly why it works when you do.

your escape plan is simple, though not foolproof. but it seems to be working so far. each time that crowley checks on you, you boost all of the hatred and annoyance in both your guard and him. this makes crowley snap at your guard constantly, berating her and blaming her for things she didn’t do. in turn, this makes her hate crowley even more, to the point that her rage no longer needs to be manufactured. hazel hates him more than enough on her own.

even more subtly, you’ve done your best to appeal to her, mostly by complaining about crowley through your shut door and lessening her annoyance as you speak. at first, she’d tell you to shut up, but now, she listens if you don’t talk for too long, sometimes even complaining back. 

but today, when she began complaining about crowley to you, unprompted, you decided you’d throw all of your effort into escaping. she’s particularly spiteful, all on her own, and all day, you boost that feeling, complaining along with her and building up the sense of comradery she’s starting to feel with you.

crowley stops by, and you can feel her anger acutely. you do as you’ve done every day, making him annoyed so he says something scathing. with the strength of her hatred, you’re impressed that she doesn’t say something back, something that would likely get her killed by his hands.

instead, she waits until he’s gone, and begins to mutter to herself how she’d love to cut that haughty smirk from his face. you lean against the door, making noise so she knows you’re there.

after a few moments, you speak. “you could just leave,” you suggest casually. she scoffs, trying to sound annoyed at you. truly, you can tell just how much she’d like to do exactly that.

“and risk getting hunted down by his minions? not a chance,” she growls.

“i hate him just as much as you do,” you remind her strategically. “if he’s not in charge, you wouldn’t have to worry about his minions, right? whether it’s now or later, i’m getting out and i’m making him pay. he doesn’t know that i have the power to turn every single one of  his demons against him. he thinks i’m weak, but i can topple his kingdom, and i will.” you infuse your words with venom and conviction, just how any demon would like. then you fill her with conviction too, making her believe your words easily. “all i need is to get out of this goddamn room.” to you, her silence is loud, but her feelings are louder. hazel grapples with her hatred and her fear and her utter spite. 

“i know you have the key,” you remind her. crowley would never bother to be the one to unlock it each time you need food. “we can both disappear, right now. crowley will get what he has coming for him, i’ll make sure of that.” you send her a wave of boldness and reassurance, confidence that this would be a good decision. it’s easy to feel when you tip her over the edge. a split second later, you hear the door unlock and come face to face with her determined expression.

“this isn’t a favor to you. it’s for me,” she says, voice low and harsh. “i’ll be waiting to see what you do to him.”

easily, you act just how you know she’d want, eyes and voice ruthless like how you learned to be growing up trying to convince crowley you were like him. “trust me. i’ll rip his kingdom apart brick by brick,” you snarl. she nods, and you brush past her, feet light and quiet as you make it out of the building without incident.

once outside, you break into a run, unable to stay calm enough to walk. clutching the small bag of belongings you took, you make for the road. it’s a bit of a ways away, but you reach the highway, panting and desperately looking out for a car that’ll pick you up and take you to the next town over. all you need is to get on the train and head for kansas. you have the way to sam’s bunker memorized.

too afraid not to keep moving, you walk along the side of the road, listening intently for any car or truck. the area is quiet, frustratingly slow, and the few cars that pass you by choose to ignore the thumb that you stick up in the air.

it’s practically torture, walking and walking and waiting. waiting for something to go wrong, for crowley and his demons to find you within mere hours of your escape. your anxiety builds as your hunger and thirst do, and you want to sit down in the grass when you pass an exit sign signaling another five miles to the town with the train station.

but you don’t think you can stop, even with your parched throat, heavy feet, and anxious heart. it’s a strange feeling; elation mixed with nerves so strong you think you could throw up.

you perk up at the sound of a rumbling car engine, but deflate in disappointment before it even comes into sight from around the corner. it’s headed in the wrong direction, straight back towards the place you want to get away from. for a moment, you wonder if you should try and hitch a ride anyway, in case they can drop you off in a different town with a train station. then the car comes into sight, its sleek black body reflecting back the mild sun of the afternoon. you gasp, an impossible hope entering your body.

it had taken you a moment to recognize it; sam’s never driven the impala to see you before, but he’s shown you pictures of his brother’s beloved car. praying it could really be him, you wave your arms in the air, heart beating wildly.

the car slows and breaks a little ways away from you, and before it even comes to a full stop, the passenger side door swings open, and sam comes running out. he looks nowhere but you as he runs across the wide road.

“sam,” you gasp, voice barely loud enough for him to hear. you match his pace, running to meet him. he practically crashes into you, enveloping you in his arms and sighing out your name. you hug him back just as tightly, pressing your face into his neck.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathes out, “crowley was hard to find and–”

“shut up, sam,” you grinned against his skin, the affection clear in your voice. “don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. it was my choice and i knew i’d be able to find a way out. and i knew even better that you’d look for me.”

he barely parts from you, just so he can gently place his hands on the sides of your face and really look at you. “you’re amazing. i–” he stops himself from saying sorry again. “i know that wasn’t easy for you, none of it. but you did it. you did it, all by yourself. i’m so proud of you.” 

your heart lurches at his words. they feel too good to hear, too sweet, too full of relief. tears spring into your eyes as you really realize just how difficult it all was, as you’re hit with exhaustion from the walk and the fear and the uncertainty of it all.

“thank you, sam,” you whisper. it’s true that you did it all for yourself, but it may never have happened without him. “you helped me. so much, sam. and i missed you a lot, and– and–” you decide that if you keep talking, you’ll cry. so instead of that, instead of trying to come up with something to bring justice to the way that you feel, you kiss him. you remember that sam knows how you feel because that’s how he feels too. and though you can’t quite show him that in the way you experience his own feelings, you can show him by kissing him, and kissing him hard.

he melts into you, his hands impossibly soft, yet steady and so sure on your face. he kisses you back with the same ferver, right there on the side of an empty highway with his brother likely watching. he doesn’t care, not about any of it.

when you finally part, breathless, dean clears his throat loudly, and you grin at sam a little bashfully. he grins back. you peek around his shoulder to see dean leaning against the car’s hood, trying and failing to hide his smile.

“while i hate to break up the lovefest, i’m not sure how long we’ve got until crowley sends that army of demons you mentioned. let’s hit the road, kids,” he calls out to the two of you. 

in the car, it seems clear that dean’s attitude towards you has improved significantly since your last meeting. maybe it was seeing the way crowley treated you, watching you give yourself up in defense of sam and the others in the cafe, or seeing sam this past week and a half and coming to understand how much he really cares about you. whatever it is, you completely welcome the hesitant sort of affection that begins to permeate dean’s wariness of you.

then, there’s sam, sitting all content in the passenger's side and unable to stay still. he keeps turning to look at you, as if he has to be sure that you’re really there, sitting pretty in the backseat of the impala like he’s imagined a million times before. the only thing keeping him from sitting next to you is the fact that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands and lips off of you, and that would be a bit too much with dean in the car. so instead, he smiles at you all soft and listens intently when you explain how you got out. he tries not to talk too much to avoid bothering dean, but you can tell that dean doesn’t mind one bit hearing the happy tone in sam’s voice as he talks to you.

and for you, to be flying down the highway and looking at your sam, your revelry, your wild joy, you finally understand what freedom really feels like. what it feels like when it’s yours.

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 1)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, not proofread, and tbh I don’t even know where this is going.

A/n: new series (hopefully) First time writing an AU. Don’t let this flop please🙏🏻

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean Winchester is the CEO of Winchester Co. for the past four years. He’s the oldest son of John Winchester, the founder and owner of Winchester Co., a real estate business. His office corner suite on the top of the floor in the building with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline. The décor is modern yet understated, featuring a large mahogany desk, plush leather chairs, and abstract art on the walls. Behind the desk is a sleek bookshelf lined with awards, framed contracts. A smart wall panel controls lighting, climate, and the room’s privacy settings.

On the top floor other than the CEO’s office is his personal assistant’s work space. It’s a sleek, efficient area with a streamlined desk equipped with multiple monitors for scheduling, managing calls, and overseeing the flow of appointments. The space is minimalist, with soft lighting and ergonomic seating, offering both a professional and welcoming atmosphere for visitors waiting to meet the CEO

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Y/n said entering his office. Dean looked up from his computer and glanced at the woman standing in the doorway with a styrofoam cup in her hands. “Got you your coffee.” She said holding it up. The man nodded and she entered the room completely, moving to hand him his daily dose of caffeine, which has been the routine for the past four years.

Y/n reached his side and he took the cup from her hands gracefully and placed it onto the table before pulling her down onto his lap. Y/n gasped at the sudden pull and he grinned up at her.

“Good morning baby.” Dean leaned up to place a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re late.” He commented resting his hands on her hips.

“Sorry boss, my boyfriend is a bit clingy in the morning.” She replied with a mocking smile. “Acts like a baby doesn’t let me leave when I spend the night.” She added with a pout. Dean barked out a loud laugh and it was moments like these that he was thankful for having the whole floor to himself.

“Acts like a baby, you say?” Dean feigned curiosity. “Well tell him you’re my mine and I need you here on time.” Dean mock reprimanded her. Y/n rolled her eyes at his teasing.

Dean Winchester is a private man. He doesn’t like expressing his emotions or talk about his personal life. He’s a workaholic and is married to his work. He had been working at this company ever since he was in college. While perusing his degree in business he did part take in business matters, worked as an assistant for his father. He’d worked hard for this title and four years ago he was appointed at the CEO of the company when his father stepped down.

When Dean was appointed CEO, he clearly needed an assistant too. He confided in his best friend, Castiel. Although Cas also had a degree in business administration he was not interested in taking over his father’s business and was rather interested in charity work and philanthropy. Castiel had suggested Dean to appoint Y/n as his PA, since he knew her from college and she had remarkable skills as well.

Although Dean did appoint her on Cas’ insistence he was a bit skeptical of her skills she needed a ‘recommendation’ to get a job. For the whole year, Dean made her work relentlessly, putting her skills to the test and demanding a high level of performance to prove her worth. And she did. With her hard work and extremely remarkable skills she impressed Dean, more than professionally.

In a typical cliche manner, the grumpy boss fell for his assistant. Though persuading her was a challenge for Dean. She was hell bent on keeping things professional and not wanting to cross the boundaries at her workplace. She was a hard nut to crack but eventually Dean worked his charm on her, showing her beyond his grumpy boss personality and wooing her with extreme gestures.

Now the two had been dating for almost three years and the only person who knew about them is none other than Castiel, the one who introduced them. Even Sam was not in on the secret.

“Can I go back to work, now?” Y/n asked getting up from his lap but he kept his hold firm on her hips, not letting her leave.

“No.” Y/n pouted in response, she hated when he did this, holding her hostage while at work . She really wanted to keep her personal and professional life apart, not wanting anyone to find out or even think for a second she’s sleeping with her boss.

“Dean.” She scolded when he kissed her pouty lips.

“Relax sweetheart, nobody’s coming up here anytime soon.” He shrugged and she sighed loudly, indicating her defeated even if she was reluctant. “Besides, I’ve got news for you.” Y/n raised her brow in curiosity urging him to continue. “We,” he traced her arm with his finger. “are going on a vacation.” Dean beamed at her.

“A vacation? We?” Y/n furrowed her brows. “Who’s we?” She questioned, clearly not understanding the situation. Is this a office vacation or the top officers vacation or just the two of them.

“You and me. A week in Bahamas.” Dean replied casually.

“A week? You want us to take a leave at the same time? It’d rise suspicion.” She whispered alarmingly.

“Baby, if I’m on leave then you’re on leave automatically. Besides, I’ve asked Cas to manage for a few days for me.” Dean replied. “We both have been working our ass off for the past four years, I think we deserve a vacation.” Dean grinned at her and for the first today, she agreed without interjecting. She’s just as much of a workaholic as Dean. She had taken a day off here and there but never a complete vacation. “Besides I’m dying to spend some time quality time with my girl without her grilling me about work.” Dean sassed and she smacked his arm lightly making him laugh.

“I’m not gonna slack off at work just because I’m dating you.” She said matter of factly. “And I do think we could use a vacation.” She finally agreed making his smile broaden. “God, if anyone could you see right now, Mr. Grumpy Winchester.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. He loved it when she teased him about being a grumpy ass to everyone else except her but he would never accept it in a million years.

The door swung open and sauntered in Castiel in the flesh. Y/n quickly jumped off of Dean’s lap but relaxed when she saw it was Cas.

“Ever heard of knocking, Cas?” She taunted her friend, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Ah lovebirds. Ever the cautious.” Cas sassed back and Dean snorted earning himself a glare from her. “Don’t stop on my account, just wanted to deliver these, personally.” He said holding up two flight tickets to Bahamas.

“Thanks man.” Dean said getting up from his chair and getting the tickets from his friend. Castiel shot Y/n a teasing grin and she rolled her eyes at him, clearly unbothered by his teasing. He thrives in teasing her because she was the goody two shoes in college and the two had become friends after being paired up for an assignment, so seeing a different version of her around Dean, leaves him anything but amused.

“You are a bad influence on the both of us.” Y/n said feigning an angry glare at Cas.

“Oh dear Y/n, I know.” Cas winked and Dean laughed at his best friends shamelessness. The trio’s camaraderie was a reminder of how personal and professional lives often intersect in unexpected ways.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Rainbow Bridge

Summary: The reader is incredibly confused when in heaven one day, a dog she's never met before appears by her side...

Pairing: Dean x reader (in heaven)

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of pet death/human death

A/N: I wrote this for my fellow pet owners (and myself). Hopefully those little dudes over the rainbow bridge have their own kinds of adventures like these pups while they wait! (and all the chicken nuggies they can eat 😉)

_______

The air shifted, a warm and joyful presence filling the air. You glanced down in your kitchen, an adorable dog with long fur and pointy ears staring up at you with a wagging tail.

“Well good morning to you, cutie,” you laughed, bending down in your pajamas with your cup of coffee, giving the dog a few pets. “Who might you be?”

The dog woofed and the thought Miracle sprang into your head. That wasn’t entirely uncommon. Animals in the afterlife were able to communicate a bit better than they had when you were alive. 

One of your own dogs you’d had when you were alive, your first dog ever, bounded upstairs from the playroom on the lower level that was for them to use as a way station. Sometimes they liked to stick around home, sometimes by your side and others they’d go off and visit their own animal friends they’d made. But generally they kept to themselves first thing in the day.

“This a friend of yours, baby?” you asked your little dog. He ran over to Miracle, sniffing intensely before he snorted. “No huh. Did you just die, Miracle? I know sometimes dogs are a little confused when they get here and you got your young, healthy bodies back.”

Miracle woofed with a slight head shake, your lips pursing. Your own dog pawed at you, resting a little foot on your arm. You hummed at him, the little guy sending you some positive feelings, sensing you were worried.

“Alright. I’ve never heard of a random dog appearing in heaven unless you request one. You show Miracle around the house and where he can do his business while I get ready. Then we’ll try to figure out who your owner is, okay?” Both dogs yelped happily and took off downstairs, a loud crash at the bottom as they slammed into your boot tray. “Careful! Just cause you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can be reckless!”

More than one dog barked back in response and you rolled your eyes, heading for your bedroom.

“At least I don’t have to pay vet bills for you guys anymore. Five dogs is only kind of a lot for one eternity.” You heard more barking and groaned. “I wasn’t complaining you mongrels! I was quite pleased to see your little faces when I died. I could have done with a little less face licking though.”

You swore you could hear the faint echo of laughter in their barks as you got ready for the day.

“If I’m not back by supper make sure you boys get some dinner,” you called, heading outside with Miracle. You loaded into your car and headed down the road, thinking you had a problem. Soon you were taking an off ramp you’d not seen before. You wound up in a mostly empty parking lot, Miracle following you out and into the lone building around.

“Take an issue form and fill out everything before returning it to the counter,” grumbled the guy behind the desk, shoving a clipboard towards you. You stepped through the empty waiting room, picking up the board. You opened your mouth to speak when he sighed. “The form is a requirement by the big man. I’m just doing my job.”

“How do you have a job which is arguably the equivalent of working at the DMV, but in heaven? Like, we don’t have jobs.” He flickered his eyes up at you, making you jump back when they flashed black. 

“Demon, sweetie. It’s part of my rehab program so I can someday be like you. By then, some other schmuck in the program will have my job. No more questions.” 

“Okay…” you said, grabbing a pen and taking a seat, Miracle laying down on the floor beside you. You stared at the form, frowning when you didn’t see your particular issue listed.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Demon,” you said, approaching the counter again, the guy rolling his eyes at you. “My problem doesn’t appear on the form?”

“That’s impossible. Those are the only issues possible of occurring in heaven.” You pointed at Miracle beside you, the guy standing to look down at him.

“I have no clue who this dog is and it’s not my dog’s friend. He just appeared next to me in my kitchen this morning,” you said. The demon stared at you, rubbing his temples. 

“Remember your steps, remember your steps,” he muttered to himself before forcing a smile. “Listen. Dogs don’t get lost in heaven. Either you know his owner-”

“Nope. My dogs don’t recognize him.”

“Fine,” gritted out the demon. “Then you and the owner of this dog are soulmates in some way.”

You blinked at him, the man angrily typing on his keyboard. 

“This dog belongs to a man named Dean Winchester. You and Dean Winchester were alive, somewhat, during the same time. He died a lot younger than you did. You two are…romantic soulmates,” he said, a fax machine going in the back. He got up and ripped off a sheet of paper, handing it to you. “Here’s his address. Now please go bother him instead of me.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to leave when you stopped, glancing down at Miracle. “Do you like, want to pet the dog?”

“Excuse me?” You turned around, the demon still on his feet.

“Well I mean, it’s probably been awhile since you’ve seen a dog or gotten to pet one. You can’t be that horrible if they’re letting you up here with the rest of us. So do you want to pet him?”

It was shocking how quickly the demon hopped over the counter and knelt down next to the dog, giving him a few pats and then a belly rub.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see her again once I get out of here,” he said, glancing up at you, seeming to forget he was a demon for a moment. “That was weird.”

“Dogs are kinda perpetually happy here and give off good energy. I’m sure your dog is looking forward to seeing you too,” you said as Miracle sat up and headed for the door. “Apparently I’m on the move. See ya around someday.”

“Yeah. Someday,” he said as you left. Five seconds later, now that you knew where you were going, you popped yourself over to this Dean Winchester’s place. You were standing outside a beautiful two story cabin on a lake, Miracle taking off in a sprint down a dock to where someone was sitting in a chair fishing. 

Your heart felt funny as the man on the dock stood and turned around, cocking his head at you. He gave Miracle a good ruffle before he approached, meeting you halfway across his backyard.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I uh-”

You both jumped when your five dogs appeared, running and chasing around a ball in the yard, Miracle joining in after them.

“Your dog popped into my kitchen this morning. I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. At least that’s what this paper says,” you said, the pack of dogs sprinting around the corner of the house. “I’ve had a few pups in my life.”

“Miracle could do with some siblings,” he said, smirking as you felt a cozy peace inside you. “I was wondering where he ran off to. He normally doesn’t stray far from home. Looks like he was off finding his mom.”

“I thought soulmates were supposed to like…snap together when they’re both in heaven,” you said. He smirked, pursing his lips. “What?”

“I probably wasn’t in heaven when you died. I was jumping around alternate worlds and you look very confused all of a sudden.” You nodded, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m a smidge of a rule breaker…and I kinda know Jack…and took down the old god.”

Your first instinct was to call him crazy but he had no reason to lie. Besides, something ached in his soul, like it had a little bruise on it. This man had known serious pain and then some when he was alive.

“You know, I killed vampires when I was alive. What’s something you did for fun?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, Dean chuckling. “Oh boy. Sweetheart, you and I have some catching up to do.”

“Hi baby,” you said that night as you and Dean laid on a blanket in the yard, your little guy crawling up on the blanket and settling in beside Dean. “Aw, he likes you.”

“He’s protective of you. I can feel it,” he said with a hum. “He hung out with your grandparents a lot after he died. Apparently while you were crying over him on earth, he was chowing down on some of your grandpa’s maple syrup bacon thinking mom’s being overdramatic, I’m gonna see her again. She worries too much.”

You sat up, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that? My grandparents told me they were with him until my parents got here and he stayed with them a while but dogs can’t talk to us like that here. We can sense them and stuff but we can’t know complete thoughts.”

Dean smiled, scratching behind the dogs ears. 

“Well, I’m a little special. I worked a case where I could communicate with dogs once. It came back up here. This little guy adores the fuck out of you and wishes you hadn’t been so sad back then but he understands. He is pretty awesome,” laughed Dean. 

“And he’s a little shit,” you giggled. “What else does he say?”

“He’s glad you got more dogs over your life and he’s glad you found me finally. Also if we don’t stop talking soon he’s going to go inside and sleep on our bed,” chuckled Dean. “Cranky baby, aren’t you?”

The dog snorted, stood up, licked your nose and trotted off inside with his chin turned up.

“Like I said, he’s a sassy little shit,” you chuckled, Dean pulling you closer. “So Dean. What do you got planned for the afterlife?”

“A bit of fishing here and there. Working on my car. Going out for a drink at the roadhouse. Hanging with my brother. Sneak out of heaven to get up to shit every once in a while, hopefully with you. How’s that sound?” he asked. You leaned over and kissed him slowly, rolling back with a smile. 

“Sounds like a plan, Winchester. Time to start having some fun in eternity.”

___________

[mxltifxnd0m]

late night talking ✤ s. winchester

summary: neither you nor sam are tired, so you guys stay up and talk; [a part of season of the witch verse!]

pairings: established! sam winchester x witch! reader, sam winchester x gn afab! reader

word count: 3.4K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, whole bunch of fluff, mentions of dead parents, a little bit of angst, reader is given nickname 'jinx', kinda edited, the title is inspired by the song by harry styles

a/n: ahh first fic for season of the witch verse! im legit so excited for this little universe and so i hope you guys enjoy it! also this was inspired by a really old fic i had written a long time ago :)

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You could feel the cold creep into the bunker as the leaves on the trees surrounding the bunker turned red and orange as they fell from the branches. You were practically jumping for joy as you got to indulge in the cooler temperatures, being able to wear warmer clothing, enjoying hot drinks, visiting pumpkin patches, and adoring the warm spices and scents that the autumn season brought for the coming months before the harshness of the winter weather Kansas had. 

You and Sam came back from a day filled with fall festivities. You guys went apple picking in the morning before you went to the local farmers market that the town would have bi-weekly and walked around for a while, holding hands as the two of you strolled down the stalls of the local business owners selling their products.  Some food trucks were set up around the perimeter of the market, and one of them was selling hot cider and other warm drinks; despite your protests of you paying for the drinks, Sam had ended up paying for the hot ciders you ordered for the both of you with a cheeky grin. 

The farmers market was hosted at the nearby park, so the two of you sat down on a bench and people-watched while you guys sipped on the hot ciders that warmed your insides while you drank it. Before you knew it, it was late afternoon, nearing evening, so the two of you decided to pick up some dinner. You went to the cozy diner in town, and once the two of you were done, you picked up some food and pie for Dean before heading back to the bunker. 

Dean thanked you with a grin when he looked inside the bag of food you had given him and retreated into the “Dean Cave,” where you believe he spent most of his day just watching Netflix.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself before heading to your room to get ready for bed. 

It wasn’t late when you and Sam got back home. But the chilly October air lingered and had settled in your skin, so you quickly gathered your pajamas, which consisted of a gray woolen sweater (that definitely was yours and not stolen from Sam), black sweats, and some fuzzy socks that you had bought as soon the weather started to cool down because you learned the hard way that the tiled floor of the bunker was not kind to bare feet in the colder months. You took a hot shower before changing into your pajamas and made your way into your shared room with Sam. 

You leaned on the doorway of the room and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw Sam already in bed and sitting against the headboard, reading the book he kept on his nightstand. He didn’t seem to notice you yet, Sam being wholly enraptured in the tale he was pulled into. You didn’t dare disturb him, so you took the time to admire him from your spot in the doorway. 

Sam was wearing a simple black long-sleeve shirt, but you could see the initials of your name that you had embroidered on the left cuff of the sleeve. Your smile grew when you realized he was wearing the shirt (among many other shirts and pants) that you embroidered your initials on for his birthday. At first, he hadn’t noticed them until Dean pointed them out one day when one of them accidentally got mixed up in his laundry. You remembered how flustered he got when he asked you about it, but he still wore the garments that you had given him. 

Your eyes trailed down to see what he was wearing for pants, but his legs were covered by the duvet. You could imagine that he was either wearing a thin pair of sweats or just his boxers and socks since he was the living embodiment of a furnace.  Your gaze flicked back up when you saw Sam absent-mindedly tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That was when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, and your eyes met his. 

Sam smiled at you, saved the page he was on with a bookmark, and closed his book. “Hey.” He said softly. 

“Hi.” You kicked off of the doorway and made your way to the bed. Sam set his book on the nightstand and held his hand out for you to take. 

“Such a gentleman, Sammy.” You couldn’t help but gently tease him as you took his warm hand. 

Sam chuckled as he shook his head. “Only for you honey.” His hand guided you as you climbed on the bed and sat in his lap. Sam let go of your hand to rest his on your thighs as your palms settled on his broad shoulders. 

“Have fun today?” He asked as his hands slid up from your legs and to your waist. He snuck underneath your (his) sweater to rub at your skin soothingly. 

You nodded. “Very. Feels like it’s been ages since we had a proper date without Dean involved.” 

As much as you love Dean, you’re sure that he was sick of third wheeling with you and his brother since monsters decided that it was primetime to cause murder and mayhem. So you were dragged all over the country for the past couple of weeks helping the boys research and kill monsters. It was only until the last hunt that involved some ghouls that the three of you made it back to the bunker, and it seemed that the monster activity had quieted. That was a little over a week ago, and trouble with the supernatural seemed to die down, so the two of you decided to have an impromptu date today after recuperating in the bunker for the past couple of days. 

Sam huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s happy that he didn’t have to see us ‘canoodling.’” 

“But you have to admit that it’s funny to annoy him by acting like an obnoxious couple.” 

Sam pursed his lips, but you could tell he was trying to hold back a smile, the twitch of his lips becoming more evident. “It’s a little funny.” 

You shot him a cocky grin. “Told you.”

“Whatever.” Sam rolled his eyes at you, but a smile broke on his face. 

“Your words are telling one thing, but your face is telling me another Winchester.” You said as you poked one of his dimples when he smiled. 

You let out a giggle when he tried to swat your hand away from his face and missed it. 

“Why do you always do that?” 

You shrugged. “Because I want to. And I love your dimples.” 

Sam would never admit it, but a slight blush formed on his face at your admission. Sam wasn’t used to the amount of affection in his relationships. He ducked his head down slightly, making some of his hair fall in his face. Before he could tuck the wayward strands behind his ear, you beat him to it. You brushed the hair back and rested your hand on his cheek, feeling the slight prickle of the stubble beginning to grow against your palm. 

You sent him a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. You could feel him smile into the kiss before slowly moving his lips against yours. Sam’s lips were soft and warm as the two of you shared a sweet kiss. The two of you pulled away gently, not straying too far, having rested your forehead against his. You and Sam were in your own bubble, content with sitting in silence as you took solace in each other’s presence.

After a few moments, you gave Sam a quick peck on the lips before you moved off of Sam and towards your side of the bed. He let go of you, letting you get settled under the covers, before pulling you towards him, Sam tucking you into his side. Your head was lying on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your arm was strewn across his chest while your legs tangled with his. 

Both of you let out satisfied sighs as you settled in each other’s embrace. You let Sam’s scent engulf you, and you nuzzled your head further into his chest. You could feel his hand resting on your arm and drawing random shapes on top of the sweater, trailing up and down as the two of you lay in bed together. 

“You know, my mom would have liked you.” Your voice felt deafening in the nearly silent room. 

You felt Sam’s hand stop on your arm, probably out of surprise that you brought her up. You didn’t talk about your mom, or your parents for that matter, often. 

“Really?” His voice was low, but you could hear the lingering curiosity in it. 

You shifted in Sam’s arms, propping your chin on his chest and looking up at Sam. You were immediately captured in Sam’s hazel gaze. They were a mix of emeralds and gold swimming together in the warm lighting provided by the lamp on Sam’s nightstand. 

You felt the corner of your lip twitch as you nodded at Sam. “Yeah, she was really picky with the partners I would bring home. She liked maybe two out of the ones she had officially met.”

“How many people did you bring home?” Sam’s brows furrowed, causing the tell-tale crease in between them when he got curious and asked questions. 

“Around five.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “Around five?” He parroted your words with a questioning tone, but a half-smile was on his face. You felt his hand on your back and traced up and down your spine. 

You huffed at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Sorry, she met five of my partners.” You rolled your eyes at him. “But, you would have been the sixth.” you murmured. 

His smile dimmed, Sam’s hand stilling on your back. “What would she have said to you if she met me?” 

You smiled at the thought of your mother and Sam meeting. “Well, she would have immediately commented on the fact that you’re too attractive for your own good.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you. “Right.” 

“I’m not joking!” You couldn’t help but laugh and sit up. “My mom was an honest woman, and she let people know what she thought.” Sam’s arm was wrapped around your waist as he looked up at you from his position, lying against his pillow. 

“Mhm, okay. What else would she have said?” 

You could tell that Sam didn’t exactly believe you, but you moved on. “She’d be able to see that you’re adorable, considerate, intelligent, and empathetic. Mom had this thing where she could tell if you had good intentions or not by a gut feeling.”

“Did you inherit this from your mom?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Maybe? It doesn’t work sometimes.” You thought back to your previous partners you had before dating Sam. 

“Well, let’s speculate. What do you think she’d think I’d have?” Sam sat up and rested his back against the headboard.

You purse your lips in thought before responding. “Mom would have said that you have only the best intentions when it comes to dating me.” 

Sam’s face softened. “I do.” 

“I know. That was the only time that it seemed to work for me.” You paused before the gentle smile that was on your face turned into a smirk. “But you would have lost brownie points by being a hunter.” 

“Yeah, can’t blame her.” Sam couldn’t help but agree with that notion, and he shook his head, chuckling. You let out a light laugh alongside his chuckling. You leaned back and tucked yourself underneath Sam’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

There was a lull of silence that settled between the two of you. 

Sam leaned over and kissed the side of your head before laying his head against yours. “Tired yet?” He murmured. 

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. “Not yet.” You answered back just as quietly. 

“Have any stories about your mom? I know you don’t talk about her often, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

You shook your head as you reached over and grabbed Sam’s free hand. “It’s fine, I have plenty of stories about her.” You swallowed thickly. It had been years since she had died, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to talk about her. 

“But, I remember when we had moved to California for a couple of months after Dad died, and she was able to rent out a beach house for the summer.” You smiled fondly as you began to remember your summer that year. 

“She refused to tell me how she was able to get a beach house, but we spent practically everyday outside and enjoying the ocean. Mom was even able to get us surfing lessons for the summer.” 

“Were you any good at it?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I got pretty good at it after a couple of lessons. But she was terrible at it.” You laughed, your mind flicking through all of the times your mom fell when trying to stand up on the surfboard when trying to ride a wave. 

“You would think a seasoned hunter like her would have great balance, but I guess it didn’t translate to the water.” You smirked sadly. 

Sam laughed lightly at your words, squeezing your hand that was in his. “That sounded like a lot of fun.” 

“Mhm, it was.” You sighed. “She was the best.” 

“She sounded like a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her.” 

You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at Sam to find that his gaze was already on you. “So do I.” You murmured. 

Sam sent you a sad smile before leaving a small kiss on your forehead. He shifted down on the bed, pulling you down with him, returning to the previous position that the two of you were in earlier. 

You felt the warmth emanating from Sam’s chest as your cheek rested against it. You hadn’t let go of his hand as the two of you went back to lying on your bed, which rested on his stomach. You could practically hear the questions rattling around Sam’s brain as his fingers traced circles on your back. His ministrations were soothing and slowly lulled you to sleep. Your eyes eventually fell closed as your breathing began to even out. 

“Do you ever think we’ll have a life outside of hunting?” Sam’s question was hushed, but it caught your attention as your eyes snapped open, and you took in a harsh breath as you thought about your words.

“Is that something you want?” You looked up at him to see him looking up at the ceiling, his face pensive. 

Sam frowned slightly as he gave you a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve tried so many times, but hunting always seems to pull me back in.” Sam looked down at you with somber eyes, his once hazel eyes looking stormy and gray, his brain becoming a frenzy of thoughts filled with doubt and regret. 

“Stop.” You untangled your hand from his and took his chin in between your index and thumb. “I know what you’re thinking, and no it’s not your fault. I chose to come back into this life.”

Sam’s frown deepened. You knew that he blamed himself for pulling you into his world of crazy and despair. You huffed at him before getting out of his grip and straddling his lap once more. You grabbed his face and stared deep into his eyes. 

“You better listen closely Sam, because I’m only going to say this once. It is not your fault that I’m here and hunting. Yes, I was living a normal life, but let’s face it, being a witch doesn’t allow normalcy. I was going to get dragged back into the world of the supernatural one way or another.” You let one of your hands fall from his cheek to rest on his heart.  “It just so happened that you are a part of this world that had pulled me back in.” 

“But, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re stuck with me, Winchester, got it?” You sent him a toothy smile as you felt his heartbeat against your palm. 

Sam couldn’t help but also smile at the sight of yours. “Understood.”

“Good. And to answer your question. I’m on the side of optimism here, so I like to think that we will.” 

“Really?” Sam’s tone was filled with intrigue. It wasn’t every day that he saw you be optimistic, knowing that you had a realistic outlook on life. 

You nodded. “Mhm. I’m not a divination witch but, I have this feeling that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel and the two of us and Dean are going to get our happy endings. We just have to wait and see what happens.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You think so?” 

“Call it a really intense gut feeling.” 

“So it’s a maybe.” Sam said sassily. 

You slapped Sam’s chest in retaliation as he chuckled. “Shut up, who’s the witch here?” 

“Hey, I was the one who had visions.” 

“Did you see that far into the future? Besides, where are those powers now?” You raised an eyebrow at Sam. 

Sam’s lips thinned before pressing them together. You smiled at him as he tried to think of a response, but you both knew that you had gotten him. 

“That’s what I thought.” You sent him a smug smile before pinching his cheek with the hand that was still resting on his face. 

Sam scowled at you before it turned into a mischievous smile. Before you knew it, Sam had flipped you on your back. You landed on the mattress with a sharp yelp leaving your lips as Sam hovered over you. You recognized the glint that was in his eyes, and before you could stop Sam, he started to tickle your sides, poking and prodding at them. You erupted into giggles as you tried to escape his hands. You were pushing at his hands as your legs flailed behind Sam’s giant form straddling you. 

Sam only stopped when you yelled out ‘Uncle’ and had the smuggest smile on his face as he pulled his hands away. 

“I hate you.” You breathed out, your chest heaving as you calmed down from getting attacked by Sam’s hands. 

“No you don’t.” Sam had moved to hover over you, now resting his forehead against yours. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sam let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re impossible.” 

“Me, impossible? Never.” You couldn’t help teasing as you bit your bottom lip and looked at Sam. 

Sam’s lips were brushing against yours as he spoke. “Right.” He drawled out in a low voice, and you could feel yourself melting at the sound of the deep timbre of his voice. 

Before you could make another snarky remark, Sam pressed his lips on yours in a languid kiss. Your hands flew to his shoulders and slid up to rest on the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss. You felt his tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, and you all but let the taste of him flood your senses. You could faintly taste the mint of his toothpaste, but it was all purely Sam. He kept the kiss slow, but it was filled with passion as he licked at your mouth and how your tongues intertwined with one another. But you could vaguely feel your lungs start to burn at the lack of oxygen they were getting, so you pulled away from Sam. 

You didn’t stray far, letting him rest his forehead against his as the both of you caught your breath. There were mirrored smiles on either of your faces. They were filled with content and love as you gazed at each other. 

“I love you Jinx.” Sam whispered. 

“I love you, my heart.” You whispered back at him. 

Sam left a lingering kiss on your lips before moving off of you, and the two of you settled back into each other’s arms. Sam’s arms were wrapped around your shoulder and waist as your face was squished against his warm chest, letting your legs intertwine with each other once more, the two of you fitting together like two pieces of an unsolved puzzle. The two of you eventually drifted off, dreaming of each other and the future that awaited you and Sam. 

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble || part two: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_No richness and benefits from being part of a successful family from District 1 would take away the broken pride of being Coriolanus Snow's second choice. Even worse was the pain of his marriage proposal, and the horrors that happened around the 10th Hunger Games.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_reader is unhinged, she experiments with herself, angst, tears, female rage, Snow actually loves reader (well idk).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is I knew you were trouble. Also Valley of the dolls, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_________________________________________

Color was unintentionally banned in The Capitol. After the First Rebellion, everyone's wardrobes were full of black, white, cream, brown, maroon, and grey. That would put your shag haircut and purple eyeshadow in the spotlight. Because you were a District 1 girl. And even after moving to The Capitol, luxury would never leave you.

Your father's bodyguard took you to school. And it made you feel like a pampered kid. But that changed after seeing that all of the Academy's students were rich kids.

A lot of students sent deep looks, you want to believe they're just curious. You're not innocent, but you'd avoid trouble as much as you could.

You hated the uniform. The skirt was fine, but the pants under it? It wasn't your style.

Things started getting interesting after Dean Highbottom announced how your classmates and you would be competing for the Plinth Prize. In a few weeks, the process would start. You had to get the best grades. But for now, it was lunchtime.

It was the issue with being the new girl, the cliche of being excluded. Groups of girls, boys, mixed, and a lonely blonde guy.

"Can I sit with you?" He looked around, wondering if you were talking to him or not. Meanwhile, you wondered why you chose to ask. You rarely socialized, and you wrongly expected people to reach you, instead of you making the first move.

"If you want to." He had very intriguing blue eyes. His blonde curls were slightly messy. And overall he was handsome. Although, his tone of voice was a little cold.

"Y/n..." you explained after seeing him looking expectantly, silently asking for your name. He was all ears after hearing your last name.

Except for your scar. A long pink asymmetric line that traveled from your nose to your neck. It made him lock his eyes on your face. But he tried his best to not make it seem obvious. "Coriolanus Snow" your eyes widened. You knew the family Snow was super rich and important. You heard rumors about them now being poor. But those were rumors, and it wasn't your business.

"Well, nice to meet you"

"Shouldn't you be in District 1?"

"My mother is opening a new store here at The Capitol. And my father is getting a lot of jobs. So... it was for the best" he assumed you were as lonely as him. Without any siblings to grow up with. Only the finest commodities to soothe you.

"My cousin can't stop talking about your mother" Tigris would never shut up about it. The fashion designer and owner of "Ametrine Designs". Established shortly after the First Rebellion. Decades ago your family acquired some Mines in Districts 1 and 12, and all the precious stones helped to survive the war and be some of the first people to gain power after it.

" So she likes fashion?" Coriolanus chuckled.

"She certainly does..."

"That's so sweet...What about you?. What do you want to be?" He cleaned his mouth like he was thinking about his answer carefully. And he was, he couldn't help but think you were gorgeous. The girl his grandma'am would love. So he wanted to impress you.

As soon as he watched you enter the classroom and Casca Highbottom introduced you, he couldn't stop looking at you.

"I don't know yet. I just want to help my cousin and grandma'am" he admitted. It came from his heart, and your reaction was what he wanted. You smiled so happily like you thought he was so kind and adorable.

What actually happened, you thought Coriolanus Snow was cute.

"You're going to make me sound so ambitious. I want to go to University. Learn about politics and genetics..." you surprised him. For real...

"You- you want to become... president?" You giggled. Brushing the short hairs on your forehead away.

"It's stupid! I just..." you blushed. And Coriolanus thought he had never seen a pink like the one painting your cheeks.

"No!... It's impressive." He offered a little smile, to which you also replied. And it felt comfortable like it was meant to be.

"Hey uhm... I would love to meet your cousin. And we could sit together tomorrow again?" To Coriolanus, it was a success what he had done. He made you feel like seeing him again. It made him proud, and it made his heart beat faster.

"Yes... Of course" with a sweet smile of yours, you disappeared from the cafeteria.

Less than a minute later, Arachne and Clemensia came with Felix.

"Did the sequin girl feel shame for you? You befriended her, Snow?" He sighed.

"Ara..." Clemmie scolded her. The girl with perfect red lips rolled her eyes.

"I heard his father is running for mayor of the 1. If not, he'll end up in my father's cabinet" Felix explained. Snow looked him in the eyes. It wasn't a surprise that your father was trying to work alongside the president. Just unexpected for Coriolanus and his luck.

"Oh, and the scar on her face was made by a rebel. Apparently, some rebels held her and the family captive. They killed the older brother and tortured her." Arachne gossiped. Clemensia gasped in horror, and Felix seemed disgusted.

"No wonder why she has that exotic appearance. She needs to feel pretty and confident with that thing on her face"

"She's still pretty, Arachne," Clemmie shared. And Felix nodded.

Snow only listened, careful to capture every detail to share in the night with Tigris.

"Doesn't matter. She looks innocent but it's obvious she's just like her mother. Too analytical. Like she could plan and hide a murder" That stuck on Coriolanus for too long. But he liked you already, which never happened. And he thought he could have a friend.

...

Three months later, your mother opened the first "Ametrine Designs" in The Capitol. You invited most of your classmates. By that winter, Clemensia Dovecote, Sejanus Plinth, and Tigris Snow were close friends. Your mother loved Tigris and approved your very close friendship with Coriolanus.

So that night, you were wearing an elegant blue velvet dress, off shoulders and a sheer cape adorned your clavicles. The cape got stuck on a little tree on your patio. Coriolanus helped and soon after he gave you a kiss on the lips.

And as the months passed, it never became official. But the kisses, hands holding, leaning on each other, that happened often.

So now grab him by the entrance of the Academy. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, and the students around watched curiously.

"You look very pretty," he said, looking at your violet coat. Under, you had a vivid red dress and some cranberry boots. Your lips matched your boots and the metallic silver eyes you had made you look so unique.

"But look at you, handsome as always. Tigris made this?" He nodded, letting you fix one of the shirt's buttons.

Clemensia joined you and the blonde guy. But before entering the room where you'd see the Reaping and the announcement of the Plinth Prize winner, you grabbed him by the forearm. "What?" He asked.

"I just hope you win so badly. Just that, Coryo" he smiled, caressing your cheek. Since you were the only one who knew about his economic position, you had only helped him. And he questioned when to pop up the question. Do you want to be his girlfriend?

"What would I do without you?" He asked, before leaning in to kiss you. You reciprocated, holding his free hand. His kisses were slow, yet he always set a pace that made it addictive. And for the first time, his hand on your cheek explored a new place, your hip.

Only that ended sooner as new waves of students could be heard. So you smiled at him after separating. And together, you entered the room.

...

You felt sorry for Coriolanus. After all his efforts, there's a change with the Plinth Prize. And then he receives a District 12 girl to mentor, literally zero hopes.

Then she goes to sing and it makes you giggle, she had a beautiful voice and you liked what she said before leaving. But you kinda felt she was going to be a problem.

Either way, you were more concentrated on why you didn't get a tribute. Until the woman who intimidated you the most appeared.

"Y/n y/l/n." You hear Dr. Gaul says, her intimidating eyes from different colors are set on you.

You gulp before looking up at her, ignoring Arachne's mocking smile.

"Your genetic research was a success. And after correcting the formula you made, I was able to finish my new creation." Your eyes widened. Across the room, Sejanus smiled at you. And Clemmie, sitting beside you, squeezed your hand in support. It was just a stupid idea of altering some snakes.

"No student had ever defied the principles of science like you did. And because of that, you'll help me supervise and modify the games." Sejanus started clapping and soon Clemmie also did, making everyone applaud and cheer for you.

"Oh my god," you said incredulously. Laughing nervously.

"Congratulations," Coriolanus said, also squeezing your hand. You accept his smile and you can't help but hug him briefly.

Things would change. A lot... And for the worse.

...

The first thing you notice is that you haven't visited Coriolanus and Tigris since the Reaping. You barely saw the blondie and you spent most hours locked in the laboratory.

You try to forget the night you saw the game's updates. In your room, putting creams on your scar as you let the air flow through your balcony. Coriolanus was at the zoo with the tributes. You wondered what the hell he did to end up there. He made you feel a little embarrassed. But it was even more awkward to see him holding hands with her, talking to the camera as if they knew and liked each other. You couldn't hate Lucy Gray Baird, but you didn't like her either. What you hated is that Coriolanus seemed to be getting obsessed with winning.

…

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting the guy coming out of a classroom.

You hug him and his hands land on your waist.

"I've missed you..." you admit with a blush. Trying to make him see that you are still there. Because whether you had some history with him, his little tribute was making you uneasy. "You have been busy," he replies. And you notice his cold tone.

"How is your songbird? Bet she's an annoying rebel..." he sighs. Remembering he had to take Lucy to the arena and form some strategy. But also, what you said was true. Lucy’s voice was so sweet. And she made him feel human.

"She's fine..."

"I can't believe what happened to Arachne" you opt for changing the subject.

"I was there..." you sigh. Maybe you didn't like her at all. But the young woman gave a sarcastic dark twist to every class. And her death was such a tragic event. For her and her tribute.

"Coryo... You have to promise me you'll be careful. The tributes are angry. They hate us. You can't even trust the rainbow girl because she sings you a song" he knew you were right. And he felt so wrong about even thinking about Lucy Gray more than you.

"I know. You're also coming to the arena with us. You won't leave my side..." you nod. And just like that, he takes your hand and takes you home. Even if he didn't have a chauffeur, you'd walk him for days.

...

Coriolanus could recognize your low heels wherever. So he turned to see you entering the arena with two peacekeepers behind you. This time, you were wearing a bright blue dress and purple tights. Immediately he left Lucy Gray and came to greet you.

"Are those new?" Coriolanus asked, pointing at your purple legs. You giggled, happy to see him smiling at you again.

"That's right, dear."

"Listen, I have to take some measurements and make some notes for Gaul." However, he could see you uneasy as you spoke. So he gently grabbed your forearm.

"Hey. Are you okay?" You sighed, closing your eyes. That’s why you missed him so much. Sejanus was busy, and Coriolanus was also busy. You haven’t talked with anyone about Clemensia.

"It's Clemmie. She's...It wasn't only flu, Coryo. Her skin... and her eyes" he worried after seeing you on the verge of tears. He grew curious, immediately remembering that she hadn’t come to class again. And while he didn't have time to ask more. He would soothe you at least.

"Hey, hey... It's not your fault. You didn't know Gaul was going to use the snakes to punish Clemensia. Okay?..." you nod wiping a tear.

"It's not your fault. Say it... It's not your fault, y/n" You nod, holding onto his words like a lifesaver. Just like you thought Coriolanus was in your life.

"It's not my fault. But I'm still looking for a way to help her" he smiled briefly. Always so kind. "Look at me, y/n." You do, and you get lost in his ocean-blue eyes. Like the first time. "You're good." Again, you nod.

The songbird watched how he talked to you, and then you smiled at him. She knew what love looked like. And Lucy Grey figured out very easily that you were in love with Coriolanus Snow. You kissed his cheek and soon the peacemakers followed you. You started inspecting the arena, taking notes in a little notebook.

And as soon as he was back with Lucy Gray, the bombing started.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus screamed as he watched how you got lost through the flames and haze of ashes. And then... darkness.

...

Tigris disliked how her cousin asked for Lucy Gray first rather than you. But Coriolanus could only think of her being safe, then on you.

Both were okay. You prepared the interviews for Lucky Flickerman. Lucy sang her song about revenge, and Coriolanus noticed everyone tearing up. He knew you were not. Wherever you were, you didn't have the kind of heart to cry because of a song. Instead, you cried from guilt for ruining your female best friend's life by helping to create poisonous snakes.

"Now, y/n y/l/n. How does it feel being the youngest person in the history of the Hunger Games to be directly involved in the creation and supervision?" Lucky asked you. And suddenly, Coriolanus was fixed on you on the screen. You looked fine. Stunning as usual with your exotic taste in fashion and attractive hair.

"It feels like a big responsibility. And although sometimes I question the brutality of the games. I know we deserve peace. All of Panem. So if we have to hold tightly to get there... So be it" The blonde could see how Sejanus wasn't pleased by your answer. He always seemed to disagree with everything related to the games.

"Honest answer I see. And one more question and I let you free. Would you say this games will finally make the show a spectacle?" You smile. Because on the other side, as you look at the microphone pointing at you, you can't help it. You can already see Lucy Gray's dirty intentions. You know she saved Coriolanus. You know he cared for her. And it was evil, but you weren't sure you wanted her to win.

"Guess we'll all see it for ourselves tomorrow." Coriolanus saw you smiled differently. It wasn't one of bright smiles. But he decided to let it go.

Just as he abruptly stopped himself from kissing Lucy Gray at the zoo. Because the image of you wouldn't fade.

...

After Sejanus left before the start of the games, you repressed the urge to go after him. You felt like you needed to talk to him. He knew you could have done more for his tribute and the games in general. Suddenly working for Gaul was putting between the sword and the wall.

But that was forgotten as soon as you stepped in front of all the mentors, instructing how the timing would go. Coriolanus seemed off. Almost avoiding you. But you also felt a little awkward, so you didn't try to catch up with him. Only sent a bouquet and dinner for him to the hospital after the bombing.

You could feel his eyes on you. But you were looking at the arena. The massacre had started. And everyone thought you had a strong stomach to see all the gore without making a disgusted face. Some were vomiting and the whole room feel like the games were actually a polo bet night. The only think that made you feel less stressed were the comments from Lucky Flickerman.

After midday, you left. Coriolanus stayed very late. Until Dr. Gaul appeared and told him about Sejanus. Soon he learned the elder woman called you too. And it frightened him. Since you two were best friends of Sejanus, you two had to get him out of the arena. Coriolanus believed his frien was trespassing the Capitol’s trust. When you two arrived at the Arena, he stopped you.

"You're not going inside." He says.

"I can't let you go there alone," you explain worriedly. Also, Sejanus was your best friend. "And I can't risk you going there and getting hurt" he cared, but it felt different now. Maybe it was because of her.

"Please, y/n. Not you, please" you sigh, letting him go and enter the arena.

As soon as you hear "enjoy the show", your heart starts pounding so fast. And although you can't see very well, you start screaming for your friends when Coral and her allies start chasing them. You were used to the violence and disturbances of the games since your father hosted parties to watch them and celebrate.

Tears start falling as soon as you hear the crack of the tribute Coriolanus had just killed. You cover your mouth in shock. Time seems to pass slower than usual as he and Sejanus run towards you on the exit.

You want to rip the doors and take them out. But you can't, and then... the peacekeepers do it. And the first thing you do is to catch Coriolanus in your arms. You hold him tight as you hug Sejanus with a free arm. They also seem shocked, you can hear Sejanus cry and it tears you apart.

"It's okay. It's okay" you soothe them. Coriolanus holds your waist so hard because he can't imagine losing you. But that would exactly happen in less than 24 hours.

But for the rest of the night, you have him in the little laboratory Dr. Gaul let you have. Coriolanus is still, but you can see a couple of tears falling. You swiftly clean his face, his healthy arm again holding you.

"I killed that boy. It was a kid." You feel bad for him. So sad to see him like that. But you understand, he never imagined he would end up fighting for his life in the arena of the Hunger Games.

"It was either you or him, Coryo. Can you understand that? It was your life and Sejanus too. Imagine the shame if a tribute ended up killing two mentors" he looked at you. He wondered why you were reacting so neutrally. He expected you to take this differently, but you defended his actions seriously.

"Yeah. Right..."

"You're here, alive. You can still win that prize and make Tigris and your Grandma'am happy" you explain finally.

"And you? What can I do to make you happier?" He meant the prize wouldn't change a thing between you two.

"You already make me happy, Coriolanus. Just by seeing you for a minute in my days, it's enough" he couldn't help it, he traced your scar so tenderly, making you feel special before he kissed you abruptly. You dropped the gazes and the alcohol bottle. But soon your hands ended up on his messy hair. And again that thing. His hands are on your hips. The urge to touch was growing the more you two kissed. The kiss turned passionate, for the first time, his tongue met yours. And by the time Coriolanus was about to slide his hand under your dress, a peacemaker entered, demanding your report to hand it to Dr. Gaul.

"Water mutts?" Coryo asked after you handed the paper.

"Something I've been working on lately" you admitted.

Tomorrow was the big day. Where all would collide.

...

"I'm so nervous..." Tigris said, sitting beside you. The whole room was full of students. The second day of the games. Dr. Gaul warned you about the snakes that would end the games. And you didn't say no. Even if that made Coriolanus lose.

"It's okay, Tigris. It's almost over" you reply, accommodating your gloves. She looks down and smiles.

"Hey! Are those the gloves I made for you?" You nod giggling. A pair of grey elegant gloves. "Yes. I love them. They have been washed a lot lately" She feels so happy that you wore her present.

For the last hour, you could only think about Coriolanus kissing you last night. It made you blush and realize it. You loved him. And you couldn't wait for the games to be over. Because you would ask him. That if there was anything he could do to make you happy, was to make you his girlfriend.

“ Miss y/l/n." Dr. Gaul appeared beside you. She tilted her head, indicating you to follow her. You excuse yourself with Tigris and leave.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. What was Mr. Snow doing two nights ago by the zoo talking with his tribute?" You frown, confused. You knew she didn’t want to keep an eye away from Coriolanus.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Dr. Gaul. I hadn't seen it personally since yesterday after... the incident with Sejanus" She nods. She knows a liar. And she knows you are telling the truth. "Well, interesting is the fact that yesterday was with you and two nights ago kissing the songbird. So I thought he had shared his plans with you" You feel blushing, embarrassed. You turn down to look at Coriolanus. He's so invested in seeing the screen.

And before you can't answer the woman beside you, you hear Lucy Gray Baird singing again, the snakes cuddling all over her. You frown again. You don't want to accept it, but did he?... No. Coriolanus would not risk everything like that for her nor the prize. But the snakes would only remain still with people they’re used to. Lucy Gray had never been in contact with them, and singing to them wasn’t enough. And then you look at Coriolanus again, and you know his face so well. You know it already.

Dr. Gaul turns to look at you, hoping to see you have the answer on your face. But she sees you confused, even angered. Like herself.

Coriolanus demands her to let Lucy Gray win, and you pray she says no. The confusing feelings over being on the of Sejanus and his rebellious thoughts. The guilt of what happened to Clemensia. The weight of designing the games. The weird back-and-forth thing with Coriolanus.

Dr. Gaul accepted Lucy Gray had won and everyone cheered. Everyone cheered for him. But you couldn't. Not after hearing he had kissed Lucy Gray. Not after being almost sure he cheated. Not after you realized he had been playing with you.

After he celebrated with Tigris, he felt your eyes on him. You immediately left. And he followed you.

You were almost at the end of the hallway when he saw you.

"Y/n!... wait up!" You turned, tears flowing deeply. He got taken aback by how hurt you looked.

"Was it worth it? Risking everything for her?"

"I did it for the prize" he stated, looking worried. Did you know what he did?

"LIAR!. You kissed her!" By that point, he knew you had feelings for him. So it made him feel worse.

"I didn't..."

"I'm sure you almost did" Soon the tears were dry, and all you could feel was anger.

"Was her voice? Her singing? Her silly dress? Why her?" He almost felt ashamed. But tried to remain looking at you in the eyes.

"It's difficult." You laugh, genuinely laugh. He finally accepted it. It was her all along.

"You know?..." you ask, spitting venom with your voice. Your cream nail pointing at him, gloves on your other one.

"If you were smarter than you think you are, you could have started dating me soon after meeting me."

"We would've eventually ended up marrying and half of my fortune would've automatically been yours. No need to win the prize." He's finally ashamed. He meets this new version of yours, and he doesn't like it.

"But you decided to risk everything. For a nobody girl from District 12. How shameful for a Snow" You smile, and he can feel it coming, losing you.

"Please, y/n..." he said, but you interrupted him.

"One last thing. If you don't get caught and punished. You'll either receive less than what was expected from the prize, Casca's demand." He remained quiet.

"That little songbird is going to hurt you. She's used you since the beginning. And when you feel like you lost it, you're gonna remember me. I promise you, Snow" you never called him that. It hurt him in many ways that surprised him. Marking the end of the history you two had made up.

"But remember... Snow always lands on top" The way you said it, so cynical, making fun of him. It almost made him fall on his knees for you. But all he did was appreciate your evil smile as you left him standing there. He felt like he hadn't just won, like Lucy Gray didn't.

...

Exile. That's what he deserved. But it boiled your blood that he decided to bribe you to serve as a peacekeeper in District 12. He left you for her, officially. And Sejanus was leaving too. You hadn't visited Clemensia in days for being crying in your room as soon as you left the Academy. But an idea appeared in a dream. Where you magically made your scar disappear. Since Snow continuously kissed and traced your scar, you would get rid of it. At the same time, you would help treat Clemensia's condition. And if it worked, it would give you honors for graduation.

But for now, it has been hours of testing, mixing, and injecting. Until Sejanus appeared. And you explained to him everything. And revealed about the exile.

He left a week after the games. In the meantime, he never reached you. And it finally broke you. But your big ego wouldn't let you crumble publicly again.

"Does it sound ridiculous? That I'm experimenting with myself to be beautiful?" you asked. Sejanus sighed. The desks were full of chemicals and different herbs, which unsettled the young man. "You don't have to do this. You're fine... you're already beautiful. And you're also doing this for Clemmie" he made you giggle.

"And you're leaving after telling me this? Who's gonna remind me of my beauty then?" Sejanus was a sweetheart, and you constantly wondered what could have been if he let you sit beside him instead of Coriolanus.

"I'll send letters. And... Do you want me to tell Coryo anything...?"

"No." He sighed.

"He's going to see it. He'll come back to you" his words settled an uncomfortable feeling in your guts. But you did your best to smile honestly.

"Maybe this is the way it was supposed to end. And it's okay..."

No, it wasn't.

"No matter what...You'll be happy. I know you're going beyond expectations" Sejanus was that friend you really appreciated. You couldn't help but tear up when he decided to hug you. "You can make it better. Take care of Clemmie and yourself." Your eyes widened. Remembering that maybe... Sejanus was a rebel sympathizer. And it made you wonder if you were one too. It brought you to an inconsistent decision. Where you worked for a woman who was the opposite of him in many ways.

"Good luck, Sejanus," he smiled. Gently squeezing your cheek and letting you go. "You're full of that. I'll just miss you" and with that, Sejanus was gone.

And that would be the last time you saw him…

Sejanus didn't make it to graduation. He was hanged for treason. Clemensia had surgery and she refused to go out in public yet. You finished the treatment for her, but it still needed examinations. You were not at your best moment, to be honest.

So you graduated alone, with no best friends, and no blonde guy you loved. Just you. Soon you started university, and your father became head of the president's cabinet. Your mother made her first fashion show and you saw Tigris. You didn't ask about Snow and she didn't mention him either.

However, rumors filed across The Capitol. You knew he was back. And that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. Lucy Gray disappeared. And you were the most influential person in Panem apparently. Mixing in the world of fashion, science, and politics. The Capitol's dream girl.

You felt powerful, confident, and strong.

So the day you feared came. Seeing Coriolanus Snow again.

Different hair, different clothes, different look, same eyes. The counseling center of Capitol's University was a desert. Just you and him.

He smiles, looking at how much you changed in a matter of months. Longer hair that made you even more irresistible. Your scar seemed to be fading. Your eyes weirdly looked even lighter, and your skin looked different too.

You make your way past him, going three steps up in the giant elegant stairs of the building. "Can you listen to me? Just for a minute?" You turn, looking at him. His father must've looked like that.

"You had a week to talk before you left for District 12." He remained still. Of course it wouldn’t be easy with you. He had always had it easy and now, you demonstrated being tough in reality.

"It happened, right? What I predicted..." His silence was a yes to you. So you giggle, proud to know he suffered at least.

"Have a nice day, Snow"

"Marry me..."

You turn again, looking down at him in shock. No, we wouldn’t…

He waits for a response. Your painted lips and killer eyes won't look away from him. Somehow, Snow believes you are now just like him. Carrying errors and guilt.

Your heels, he could never forget the sound of them. He inspects your steps closer, you looking taller some steps up. He was taken aback when your wine nails gently dug into his neck, and your sweet-looking lips smashed his.

Somehow he felt wrong, but the kiss felt right. It was meaningless, but it was unleashing some kind of lustful awakening again. Surrendering, finally, his hands landed on your hips, keeping you aligned and centered almost between his legs.

"You'll never love me. If I married you, I would be nothing. Because I'll never be her..." You felt him gripping your hips harder. He didn't like the comment. But you had just begun. "Remember. We're still kids, Snow. Just nineteen. You still have a long way to reach power. And you need my father's help. You need my influence. You win, I lose..." his jaw tightened, and finally you stood straight stepping away from him.

So he also stood on the same step as you. The height difference is even more evident. Your heels made some effort to make you feel confident, as your chin would barely make it past his chest. But his eyes pierced you. Those deep blue ocean eyes seemed to be hosting a tsunami.

At the same time, he was getting lost in the almost frozen honey of your eyes. Trying to describe how you could ever forgive him. Believing it was because of his hunger for power, he leaned.

Again, his lips grazed yours. Your eyes are glued to the black and white tile floor. And his eyes locked in your neck.

"I'm going to marry you." It was a statement. There was a need in his words. But no love. But you stepped even closer. Ready to counter back.

"We'll see." Without a last look, you hurried your pace upstairs. That didn't stop your confidence from looking visible. Snow believed you hated him to death. That was a lie. Snow could feel how much he had hurt you and how that changed you. That was true.

As your graceful figure disappeared through the hall of the building, Snow stood there alone. Trying to convince himself that he was putting much effort into marrying you because of the money and your father's political position. Rather than his wounded heart trying to heal with the sweetest person he met some months ago. The first person who he didn't feel the need to fit in. The only person who had offered him respect and time without expecting anything back. He had every chance with you and he wasted it. For Lucy Gray Baird. For nothing.

As you looked at the Capitol through your car, you reminisced. You knew he would insist. You knew being a teenager was over.

When you make it to your home, there's a big bouquet of white roses on your bed. You don't read the note. The logo of the family Snow was enough. It angers you to the point where you smash the bouquet against the sheets, ruining it and making a mess of petals all over your bed. This little war of yours was just starting. And you knew you weren't ready to fight with a broken heart, a damaged pride, and a love you couldn't get over with. Coriolanus Snow would mean trouble. You knew it the moment he let you sit beside him. It would be a problem. But one thing was for sure. No matter what, he would never have all the power. And if it wasn't yours, control would be.

_______________________________

Special mention_ @earphonejack09

I'm thinking of doing part two with the proposal, tension, reptile Clemmie, drama, reputation + evermore era, and the wedding.

[f1girliefics]

Green Tinted Dark Eyes

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Perhaps attending a party with Oscar wasn't a good idea. Or was it?

Jealousy never looked sexier.

Oscar has always been a quiet guy.

He extremely rarely raised his voice. 

He was always a very kind person, and you have never seen him so angry before.

But again, it wasn't truly anger.

It was rage mixed with jealousy.

All thanks to a guy named Dean, who kept on flirting with you.

A reserved driver for the Alfa Romeo team, Dean was not even close to Oscar, and yet, as Oscar watched Dean put his hand on your knee for the second time, he was ready to punch the life out of him. 

Dean already had a couple of drinks and shots so it wasn't a surprise for you.

Seeing Oscar like this did turn you on. 

Seeing the anger and dilated pupils, seeing how his hand clenched, making his veins visible. And then the way he clenched his jaw... oh boy that was possibly the sexiest.

But as much as you enjoyed seeing your boyfriend so jealous, you decided to spare him.

Dean didn't even notice when you stood up and walked over to sit next to Oscar.

Dean was too busy telling a story to everyone. 

You leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"You look very sexy." and he truly did, not only the jealousy but the dark blue shirt he had on, the long sleeves pulled up until his elbow, you had the urge to bite his soft skin, but you rather not. Not with people around at least.

Maybe later...

For now, you just enjoyed the way he looked at you like a lost puppy, happy to see his owner back.

He smiled at you and placed his hand on your thigh. 

He was now a lot more calm, but you could still see the way he was looking at Dean, as soon as Dean stood up, so did Oscar. He pulled you with him over to the bar as Dean failed to follow you given his drunken state. 

"You are very sexy when you are jealous." you said as Oscar sat down next to you on the stool.

"He kept on touching you."

"He's drunk."

"You told him to stop."

"I did. He didn't listen, I left."

"Why did you sit next to him in the first place?"

"You wanted tot didn't listen, I left."

"Why did you sit next to him in the first place?"

"You wanted to sit wil Lando, it was the only place left. And I can handle a   drunk guy."

 "I know you can handle yourself. You could have sat in my lap."

"I'm not playing token girlfriend, Oscar."

"Just... Next time sit with me."

"I will don't worry."

"I nearly punched him."

"I saw. As I said, you looked sexy."

"You got turned on while I nearly went blind with anger..." he said as he let out a huff and asked the bartender for two drinks.

"But you do know I wouldn't never choose anyone else right?"

"Of course." he said and you offered him a reassuring smile. 

"Good. Then I will do that thing you like so much later when we get back to our room."

"Oh? With your tongue?"

"Exactly." he smiled back at you. 

You always found it incredible how he was so shy and quiet and yet with you he was always so open.

           /DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS/

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.

Word Count: 5,115

A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo. 

Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work. 

It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way. 

So that was the end of it.

He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.

“Dean! You’re here.”

He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically. 

She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”

Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.” 

He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.

He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist. 

“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”

Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall. 

Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.

“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”

Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”

Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”

Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”

Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”

Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.

“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.” 

She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.

He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”

Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…” 

She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”

Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”

Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer. 

He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”

He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.

He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him. 

He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”

“Mommy?”

Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.

“What’s wrong?” 

Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”

Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”

Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”

He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.

***

Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.

She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.

He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”

He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.

“Well, shall we?”

***

As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it. 

She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.

She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”

She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.

Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”

Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”

He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her. 

“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”

Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly. 

“No, but-”

“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”

Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.

She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”

A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better  circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.

Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.

George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.

The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”

He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”

Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.

“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold. 

Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”

Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.” 

“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”

Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.

The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.

Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again. 

The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh. 

She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual. 

But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.

Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.

As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice  was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more. 

Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song. 

Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”

The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.

After the ball is over,

After the break of morn—

After the dancers' leaving;

After the stars are gone;

Many a heart is aching,

If you could read them all;

Many the hopes that have vanished,

After the ball.

As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.

Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.

As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.

After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.

“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.

She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”

She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.

“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled. 

“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”

“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.” 

Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”

Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?” 

Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”

But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”

Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers. 

She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.

“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.” 

He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.

Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs. 

She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.

Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off. 

“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.

Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.

“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”

Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. 

“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.

“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.

“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”

He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.

Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away. 

Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.

Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.

She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.

But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”

He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender. 

He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand. 

“Will you hold onto me?” 

Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.

For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.

So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”

“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”

Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”

“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued 

 “You should have told me.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”

She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.

He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted. 

Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep. 

Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.

“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.

Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”

Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.

Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”

Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”

Dean tensed. “Y/N…”

But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”

Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.” 

He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”

Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.

Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”

Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”

He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.” 

He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.” 

Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her. 

But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.

“I won't love you.”

At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.

She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…” 

She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”

As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.

***

Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon. 

She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it. 

Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.

Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.

She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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[savnofilter]

Guilty | a. shouta

         Plug!Shouta Aizawa x [FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, mentions of weed, drug use (cannabis), high/inebriated sex, infidelity (don't do this y'all), it's consensual tho they both suck, Reader is a "older-sister deals with a lot mess" tease, fingering (m -> f), lube, making out, light petting, barely any foreplay besides that, p in v sex, protected sex, unestablished relationship.

COUNT: 2.5k words.

READ MORE: masterlist | adults masterlist

A/N: this is funny cuz ive never been high a day in my life. ive never gotten high or drunk... ive tried but. 🤷🏽‍♀️ 😭 if i get sum wrong with the terms, SORRY. my knowledge is only extensive to what i hear my friends be saying okay?! okay. sorry weed heads lol. this was originally gonna be car sex but it ended up... not being that so maybe next time. 👀

You

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 0:69

‘Just come upstairs plssss, I’ll slip you extra’

[✓] 23:56

Aizawa huffed at your whining. He knew better than to do it but tonight he wasn't being stern with himself. The last time you had come down to his car to get what you normally did, it went in a whole other direction that wasn’t intended.

You were a good person.

Meaning you were currently in a high level of schooling, soon to graduate and finally full send into your desired career. You were dressed somewhat modestly in your day to day life, avoided using unnecessary swear words and was always polite when needed. You were a model student, rounding up to be on the dean's list as the final exam period rounds the corner. You often helped out with your community and even volunteered in a soup kitchen.

Not to mention, you were the kid parents dreamed of. Being the first born you didn't really have that many choices. You were already in a serious relationship, the guy you were with had a lot more destined for him as well so it only made sense for you two to be together. You had met them through your parents, actually. Thankfully they weren't ugly nor was they that bad to be around. But did you really want to marry?

To everyone else, you were a “good person”. But your underlying secrets said otherwise.

Aizawa was starting to question it himself. The last time you two had crossed the line hadn't been the first. You see, your “good” reputation was only merely an act. You weren't the worst person on the planet, no, but there was a lapse in your judgement as you slowly felt like your life was a lie. The somewhat arranged relationship and the hand held future into what you should desire instead of what you actually wanted to do caught up to you eventually.

You had met Aizawa a little bit more than a few years ago through a friend of yours. At that time, you were single and his romantic situation wasn't any knowledge to you. Not that it was any of your business to begin with. That night you had bought from him was your first time smoking, ever. Your friends had convinced you to do it and you weren't entirely against the idea so you went along with it.

It was at some beach party that he could only care so much about and he was in a mode operating strictly for business despite knowing the party owners himself. Though when you had first come up to him, weary and looking the prettiest you've ever been. Shouta had seen so many people in his lifetime, but looking at you for the first time had him starstruck. It was almost embarrassing how he nearly zoned out when you two caught eye contact. The way your lips moved and how you hugged your body as a sign of needing direction in the whole process intrigued him. You stuck out like a sore thumb between you and your friends that accompanied you, even though you all clearly arrived together.

The moment he first saw you replayed in his head as he stood at your door, waiting for you to let him in. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, interfering with your life but it wasn’t all his fault; it took two to tango.

“Leave your shoes at the door,” Your voice called out to him. His eyes refocused as you turned around, eyes taking more than enough time to take your appearance. A hoodie that fit your figure in a way he knew wasn't yours covered your torso while a small pair of shorts hugged your ass all too well and only a pair of socks to keep you comfortable in your warm but drafty apartment is all you wore. Focused, that's what he needed to be. That's what he should be reminding himself of. This should only be for business.

He absentmindedly does as you say though, the process of removing his shoes easier than usual since he adorned a comfortable pair of designer slides (gifted to him by someone close to him, of course). You instruct him to rest the grams on your living room's coffee table, already giving away how many times Shouta shouldn't have been in your apartment. Still, he wordlessly pads his way to the room, his feet covered in socks also thudding against the padded floor.

Shouta follows your instructions on placing the bag on your table and promptly attempts to leave before making any choices he'd regret later. Your plans were different as you stood in the doorway, not blocking the walkway at all, but for sure trapping him. You glance at him with a pout full of confusion and longing.

“Could you help me roll one? You know I struggle with it.”

His eyes were glued to your plump lips as you talked, mesmerized at your words. That was a damn lie and both you knew it. Though he couldn't hold back the gulp as he nodded his head in hesitation, glancing towards the door behind you, reluctant to the idea of a special someone waltzing in that door. As if reading his mind, you smile and walk towards him, shoulder briefly checking his even with the amount of room that should've been left between you two.

“My fíance is out of town, they usually help me.” You get yourself comfortably sat on your couch and beckon him over, and pat the free seat next to you for him to sit. You don't wait for him as you rest your rolling tray on the table. “Come sit,”

And so he does.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes glued to the product he brought to you. He walks around the table to not interrupt you and gingerly sits as requested. If anyone walked in on you, there would be no mistaking the tension in the air. Shouta’s body posture was more than stiff as he tried not to pursue you. He clears his throat once you've finally pulled your gram out, getting your shredder to help mince the plant.

“None of your friends are available?” Shouta asks, leaning back in to your sofa as you busy yourself with preparation. You shrug and glance at him with a grin.

“You're a friend, no?” You tease him as you beckon him to get closer and move the tray in front of him.

He rolls his eyes as he gets busy, glaring at the rolling paper as he lines up the sativa. “You know what I mean.”

But you have no answer for him. Instead he watches as you purse your lips and cross your arms, body language closing him out without you having to verbally say it. He feels a little smug though, finally being able to turn the tables on you in this situation instead of the opposite.

He sits back as he finally finishes up the roll and glances around for the lighter. Although at this time you refused to make eye contact, you read his actions pretty well and dig into your hoodie’s pocket for the pink lighter. You hold it out to him once your fish it out, palm open with invitation.

“Open.” Shouta says curtly, but you understand what he meant all too well. He holds up the blunt and you grin happily in content. You scoot closer to him, the two of your bodies now touching each other as you leaned closer to his hand. You look up at him as he gently places the blunt to your mouth, your hand quick to top off the process by lighting it up.

You take a deep drag from it and lightly pull away, holding in your breath before puffing it out in a soft breath. You hum happily as you lean back against your sofa, still sitting close to him as he takes his own turn in having a drag of his own. The exchange is continued in silence minus the bustling city noises and people outside to accompany it. As the air grew thicker in scent with weed, so did the tension between both of you.

As you sat back with your body language open and muscles relaxed, his large and heavy hand rested on the inside of your thigh, squeezing every few moments or so. The light movement had you giggling—mixed between the airy headed sensation filling your senses and the tips of his fingers itching for more had you eager to receive it. Sharing another puff you gently pass it to him and use both of your hands to guide his wandering one straight to your clothed core, the only thing stopping him from properly touching you is the thin material or your shorts. His hand palms your pussy through the material, his unabashed groping bringing a light moan from you. You open your legs further in an attempt to encourage him further, the gesture working.

Though, Aizawa pulls away, ignoring your whine in protest and snubs the end of the tiny end of the blunt onto the rolling tray. He finally sits back and pats his thigh for you to climb up on it, and you happily follow his lead. In a few seconds you're climbing over his lap comfortably, and sitting across it as your hands find his neck in solace. Your eyes are lidded and already heavy with arousal, needing nothing more than to take him.

He isn't in the mood to play coy either as his hands slip down to hold your ass and thigh respectively. He gives your skin a squeeze and you finally lean in to plant a messy kiss against his. It takes everything in Aizawa to hold back the groan that threatens to leave his lips, mouth moulding to yours as you both try to develop a rhythm that worked for both of you. You were a grinning mess trying to get into the motion, pride already swelling within you as you could feel him poking at the side of your body. Of course without hesitation you palmed him, needing not to shy away from him anymore.

You tease his lower lip by giving it a small bite as you pull away and look down to watch yourself palm at his building erection. Usually at this time you'd drop a remark but you were too thirsty to even do so. It'd only been a few days since you've gotten some and you were fiending for him. As his eyes flicker back up at yours, you glance back at him and lean in to take his lips with yours again. It's intoxicating how he has a soft dominant nature to him; the way Aizawa’s mouth overtook yours was so natural and steady. Not too much nor too little. You were so lost in his kisses that you didn't even notice you were switching positions with him until you were properly straddling his lap and your hands were resting on his shoulders.

“Ride it.”

He had said in a haze, glaring eyes staring back at yours with no patience behind them. Despite you two only making out and petting for only so long you feel giddy to finally get on with it. You slowly nodded your head as you carefully tried to get off his lap to remove your shorts. Aizawa did his part in reaching into his back pocket and only letting down his pants only enough to let his cock out. Due to his inebriation he wasn't the hardest as he typically is, but that'll all change once the real part comes in.

Your eyes quickly scanned the scene as you reached under the cabinet of the coffee table for your lube to help slick you up, not having much foreplay beforehand. Once you grabbed it you happily straddled him again and put a healthy serving on his awaiting cock. Thankfully he had already wrapped himself up so you didn't have to fumble with that this time around. Once you put the amount you were comfortable with, you got in position and lined yourself up on his tip. You toyed with your lip as you slowly sunk yourself onto it, you two pulling in a deep breath as you continued to do so. It wasn't until you had basically taken in most of his length did you two exhale in relief, the sensation so much better than you remembered.

Aizawa's hands find your hips to help guide you once you start to move, a heavy moan escaping your lips as his sizable hands gripped your skin. You dared to look back at yourself, out of breath and riding off pure ecstasy and lust. You watched as he grew more greedy, instead of going with your original pace and speeding you up as he sunk himself deeper into your greedy cunt. Because that's exactly what you were. Greedy.

You lean your body more against his as you try to adjust, the sound of his cock hitting up into you growing louder by the second. Skin slapping against skin, with the occasional sound of his hand slapping your ass for good measure. He wasn't discreet in checking you out either, every so often glancing towards the mirror you had in your living room that perfectly gave him a view of you riding his cock like no tomorrow. Or at least he was making you do so.

Your whimpers filled the room as you were starting to get overstimulated by the second. You were mumbling his name and cursing as if you were trying to rid of him, eyes closed in bliss and hands tightly fisting the couch that sat behind him and his sweatshirt. Against your better judgment and his, you didn't even think to question him sucking and biting your neck, leaving evidence with his kisses that he was claiming someone that will never be his. A sharp nip on your skin is what catches your attention, a frustrated groan coming from you once you realize.

“Ngh…” You start to speak but fail miserably. As best as you could lean away from his lips without sacrificing your position didn't work as Aizawa wraps his arms around your waist and effortlessly flips you two over on the couch.

With his cock still in you, he pounds into your wet pussy, mouth once again on yours and swallows your vocal sounds. Your hands are tangled in his black hair as you have completely forgotten about your complaint, legs wrapped around his hips to help lock him in. You try your best to gyrate up against him, head tilting back as you near your first intimate high for the night.

You breathe out his name in the form of his nickname, the sensation of hearing you whisper for him against his ear bringing a guilty shiver down his spine. He even lets out a small groan as you manage to clench unbelievably tight around him as you come undone, the feeling almost unbearable. He dishes out a few more thrusts of his until he's filling the condom he wore. Unlike you though, the kisses you delivered onto his neck had him sobering up fast and quickly coming to terms with tonight's exchange. Aizawa couldn't bring himself to judge you as a person, either.

Knowing he has his own partner waiting at home, oblivious.

[e-dubbc11]

for November rain again...kat dahlia has this angsty ass brekaing up song called 'just another dude' and i think it'd fit great for some nice angsty fic for my man dean :)

My lovely Selene,

Thank you for sending in your asks, for reading and sharing my fics but mostly for being such a kind friend. And thank you for participating in my follower celebration, I hope you like what I did here. This song is full of angst, I love it! I’ll link it at the end and of course I had to give this a fluffy ending ♥️

Sweet Pecan Pie

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ please or I’m telling!) Angst, fluff, a swear word or two

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: As the owner of a small diner, you encounter all kinds of people and one in particular comes to town on a mission but keeps coming back because of you.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The first time he came to town was for a job, but first he stopped in for something to eat at your diner.

As his teeth sank into the burger, he moaned as the grease dripped from his lips, down onto the plate, and he made the same noise when he took a bite of the pecan pie he ordered for dessert.

“This is the best thing I have ever tasted.” He said with a spot of whipped cream stuck to his lips.

He said the same thing to you later on that night with his head buried in between your thighs lapping at your entrance, devouring you like a man starved. Whispers of his name turned him on as your orgasm started to build. His tongue moved in and out of you with long eager strokes while his hand gently pressed against your stomach to try and keep you flush with the bed.

As he continued to push you over the edge, a soft whimper escaped your lips, “Dean.”

Dean Winchester.

That wasn’t the name on the FBI badge he flashed earlier in the evening. Dean was his real name, along with his brother Sam, he told you the truth about what they did for a living…”Saving people, hunting things, the family business.”

And after he saved you from a werewolf attack, you saved him from having to find a place to sleep for the night.

You tugged gently on his hair as he continued to fuck you with his tongue, the modest pulls on his light brown hair were a silent plea for him to stop teasing you. It had been a long time since you had been properly fucked, you needed him, and he took the hint you were dropping. With each drag of his cock, Dean hit that sweet spot, bringing closer and closer to climax, whispering against your mouth, telling you how good you feel, how tight you are, and praising you for taking his whole cock like a “good girl.”

His hands explored your body like no one had ever done before. It was a surprising sensation, exhilarating, and you didn’t want it to end. Shocked by your own lack of restraint, your heavy breaths moved in tandem with his as his body ground down harder against yours, the wave of your orgasm building faster as your walls began to tighten around him.

Dean was just as desperate for a release as you were, thrusting and panting quicker now, you cry out his name just as you explode all around him, and your knees quivered as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean’s lips found yours again, his kisses were hungry and you obediently melted into those kisses while he hit his peak and a strangled moan fell from his lips into your mouth.

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He told you, kissing the tip of your nose and smiling at you as he rolled off of you then pulled you close so you could fall asleep on his chest.

He stayed until morning, then it was time to move on, but he would call any time he was in town or close to town. The job only brought him into town the one time; he kept coming back because of you. And that’s the kind of relationship you continued to have with him which, you admit, was fun for awhile until you were starting to think that’s all you were to him…a piece of ass.

Did he have one in every town? Was that his “thing?” Did he save pretty girls from scary monsters then take them to bed like he did with you?

It continued for months and while you enjoyed every minute of it, you weren’t sure you wanted it to be like this anymore.

Tangled in each other’s limbs and wrapped up in the bed sheets, you finally worked up the courage to ask him, “Is this all we are, Dean? Is this all I am to you?”

“What are you talkin’ about, baby?” He asked in a confused tone.

Turning to face him, you asked, “Do you do this in every town you have a job in?!”

“What? No!” He shouted. “That’s what you think of me, y/n?! I don’t have to stay here and listen to this, ya know.”

Unraveling yourself from him and the sheets, you angrily threw on a t-shirt and got out of bed.

“Then don’t stay!” You replied, scolding him. “And hey, if you really want me to feel like a whore, just leave some money on my bedside table on your way out!”

You didn’t like looking like a fool, you didn’t like being used, and you certainly didn’t want to be around someone who didn’t feel the same way as you felt about them.

Your diner allowed you to meet a lot of different people from all walks of life, families, travelers, and even monster hunters.

You enjoyed Dean’s company, it wasn’t just the sex. It was the talking before and after, or when he asked you if you created any new recipes lately, and slyly asking if he could test them out before you put them on the menu for the diner.

He was so cute and sexy.

But he didn’t say much on his way out of your bedroom and out of your house, probably never to return, and leaving you alone to try and get over someone who was never yours to begin with.

**********

Weeks had passed without a word from Dean, no texts, or phone calls, and he definitely didn’t come into the diner. You were positive you had chased him out of your life for good.

And yeah, maybe you did come off a little harsh but you were certain it had everything to do with the fact that you had developed deeper feelings for him and knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. At least that's what you had assumed.

But instead of trying to talk to him, you chased him away like you did with every other relationship you had.

After closing one night, you decided to put on some music to help you finish cleaning and locking up for the night. Lately, you have been listening to a lot of angry girl rock music and tonight was no different.

You, you treat me like a fool

You're making me feel used by you

Oh what do I do to break loose

Oh I'm so confused

I guess I'll pay my dues

Why do I like this abuse by you

Oh what do I do to break loose

You're just another dude

Gritting your teeth and angrily scrubbing the counter, you continued to sing, pretending the counter was Dean’s face as you fiercely moved the sponge back and forth.

Oh, baby, you got me running running running running all over town

I got nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing to show

But these wounds are proof

It's all 'cause of you, 'cause of you

You're just another dude

With the earbuds in your ears, you didn’t hear the door open and when you turned around to find Dean standing there, you clutched your chest tightly as you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“JESUS CHRIST!” You shouted in surprise.

Dean smirked. “Nope. Just me, sweetheart. You left the door unlocked, you should be more careful.”

Narrowing your expression at him, you replied, “Very funny, Dean. What the hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m here to talk to you.” He said. “Wait…Was that song about me?”

“They’ve all been about you lately. What of it?” You snapped, continuing to scrub the counter tops.

“Can you stop that so I can talk to you for a minute, please baby?” He asked.

You pointed a finger at him.

“Oh no, you don’t get to call me that.” You said.

Dean grabbed the sponge out of your hand and flung it across the room.

“The fuck are you doing, Dean?!!” You yelled.

“I want you to listen to what I have to say!” He said.

Leaning across the counter, you looked into his hypnotizing green eyes and said, “Fine! Talk!”

Dean wiped his lips with his thumb and forefinger before he started, You could tell he was nervous and not used to saying what he was feeling.

“Y/n, do you think I just move from town to town bedding local women?” He asked.

You replied, “I don’t know, Dean. That’s not usually a topic of conversation when your dick is buried deep inside me.”

“I do love how direct you are, sweetheart.” He said with a chuckle.

His smile quickly disappeared when he noticed how unamused you were.

“Anyway…I usually don’t come back to town after I’ve finished a job especially if I met someone. It’s a one time thing and they never see me again. I came back here because I genuinely liked you, I liked talking with you, laughing with you, eating your pie…both kinds.” He said with a wink and a devilish smile.

You were angry that he made you blush.

“And I usually don’t share my real name or life with anyone. I let you into my real life. I could have walked away after I saved you from that werewolf.” Said Dean.

“Then why didn’t you , Dean?” You asked.

A warm smile stretched across his lips as he replied, “I told you. It’s because I liked you. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you were just another notch on my belt because you’re not and look, my life isn’t exactly stable, I don’t have steady relationships because of what my brother and I do so—”

You cut him off by leaning across the counter and gently pressing your lips to his. Dean kissed you back, his hand cupping your cheek as you melted into his kiss like you had done time and time again.

It was really hard to stay mad at him when his feelings were pouring out of him like blood from an open wound.

“I like you too, Dean.” You whispered as heat rushed to your cheeks and you gave him a warm smile.

“You do?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Ok, well are you done listening to angry, man hating music? I did say I was sorry.” Said Dean.

“Maybe.” You said with a wink.

His tongue brushed against your bottom lip as you gasped against his mouth and he became frustrated with the counter directly in front of him so he climbed over and caged you in against the edge.

Dean nipped at your chin before his teeth clashed with yours in another aggressive kiss. You pulled away to ask him, “Are you hungry? I could make–”

He claimed your lips again and replied, “Oh I’m hungry sweetheart, but not for food. I want a taste of your sweet pecan pie, first.”

Warmth flushed across your cheeks as you smiled and replied, “I’ll lock the door, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

[pascalsummers]

You Give Them a Magical Companion (Team Free Will x Male Reader)

A/N: So this idea of mine originally started as just stuffed animals given to them but I wanted to give it a more 'supernatural' vibe lol. I couldn't find an exact mythology for what I wanted to do so I took a bunch of inspiration and just made my own thing. I'll probably make another post later on fleshing this idea out because why not?

What you need to know for the sake of this post is that the reader can imbue an item (Usually Jewelry) with a magical creature influenced by the wearer. Anyway with that out of the way consider this my birthday gift to you all, and enjoy!

-

DEAN

When it came to Dean you decided that a bracelet would be the best option for him. Mostly because you remember Dean complaining about rings getting scratched up when opening beers and him getting hit in the teeth by necklaces. He will forever deny fanboying over the fact that his companion turned out to be a wolf but that doesn't stop him from subtly bragging about it once in a while. Dean's companion is mostly used during hunts to help track down monsters or sometimes help in battle if Dean really needs it. When not on a hunt Dean can be found hanging out in the Batcave with the wolf sitting close by.

SAM

For Sam, you decided that his item would be a ring. You didn't want to choose anything that stood out too much and a ring seemed like the perfect subtle piece of jewelry. Sam was a little worried that the world would decide to make his animal a moose but much to his relief, it turned out to be a simple owl. The owl became a kind of study buddy for Sam as he would ask his companion to find certain books for him while he focused on other tasks. In return, Sam would give the owl scratches which it would coo at, and eventually, he even made it a small nest in his room for it to rest on whenever it wanted.

CASTIEL

Figuring out what item to give Cas was a challenge since Cas didn't seem to have a big opinion on the matter. Eventually, though you decided that he would have a necklace. When Cas accepted the gift and saw that his companion was a cat he was confused but of course accepted it. Cas didn't know what to do with his new companion but after a bit of contemplation, he decided to get all the needed items for a cat owner and set them up in his room in the bunker. Though Cas's companion didn't require any food or water to live it did eat any food and drink any water that Cas gave it. Usually, the cat can be found perched on Cas's shoulder watching the people of the bunker.

CROWLEY

Thinking about how Crowley you knew that a brooch would be a good choice for him. You thought it was the perfect fit for someone whose closet seemed completely made of suits. When Crowley laid eyes on his tiger companion he thought that it was an apt creature to be paired with. Crowley is quick to befriend the companion and learn as much as he can about it. During meetings and interrogations, Crowley will sometimes let the tiger sit close to him as a way to add a little extra intimidation factor. When not busy with something Crowley will let his companion roam around especially when Crowley's with the Winchesters just to annoy them a little bit.

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x physicist!reader

summary: The aftermath of the leak is hard on everybody in dr YN YSN's circle, but especially for her. The gossip, magazines, paparazzi and haters do not help the case.

warnings: hate speech, swearing

a/n: hi! so yes, this is a re-upload of the 3rd part of the physicist!reader. earlier this week tumblr wasn't working with me, not showing this on tags or even my own home page. and with that, i decided to post it again so maybe some more of you could know what's been happening in the world of physicist!reader. i hope you'll enjoy!

part 1 part 2 taglist

@celesteblack08

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The Sun

Oxford Is Firing The Famous 'Higgs Professor' and Harry Styles' Girlfriend Dr YN YSN

Written by John Addams

The infamous and TikTok sensation dr YN YSN, lecturer at Oxford University, is being fired after intimate photos of her and boyfriend, Harry Styles, saw the light of the day.

Starting at the beginning, the relationship between two became a fact over a year ago, when dr YSN went viral for her explanation of the Higgs mechanism based on Harry Styles' music. As we got to know from their joined street interview for meetcutesnyc on Instagram, the relationship florished after meeting at their mutual friend's (Christopher Nolan) party. Dr YN YSN was the science consultant for the director's latest movie, Oppenheimer, and Harry starred in one of his films, Dunkirk - making it happen.

Everything was going smoothly till the morning of three days ago. YN's iCloud was hacked, revealing personal and intimate information about not only the owner but her boyfriend as well.

'Dean is furious,' says our source. 'He cannot believe that the best lecturer could be this reckless'.' After the posed question on whether the decision of firing could be announced any time soon, they said, 'it's just the matter of time. But it's going to be sooner rather than later. Oxford is going to lose a fair and talented professor, but it is not its fault. Someone was the author of those, let's say information that was exposed. And it's going to be their fault entirely.'

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harrysmoustache

liked by hArrysbtch, harryupdates and 23 482 others

harrysmoustache Harry and YN couldn't leave the restaurant safely because a bunch of paps and 'fans' showed up at the location. Not only was it physically dangerous, but the things that were spoken towards (mostly) YN were disgusting. Calling her names and ready to fire her on the spot because of the PRIVATE PHOTOS she took with her boyfriend, which then someone ILLIGALY POSTED ONLINE after HACKING HER ICLOUD. Did y'all forget about TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS?????

view all 5 402 comments

harrysmoustache and don't make me start on that bullshit that the sun did... RIDICULOUS

harryupdates After all those years, and all those situations that he went through, I'm still surprised that people can be this cruel to him and people that he loves

hArrysbtch they hatin' my girl cause of some sexy photos... bastards

hArrysbtch why would they care what she does after Uni hours??? it's none of your business

scienceandharstyles it's heartbreaking to see a person that gives others the world and shares her knowledge and wears her heart on her sleeve being treated like garbage

harrymylove those were not harry fans

stylesbabie monstrosity

user56 why do y'all care for her this much??? jezz..

⤷ hArrysbtch maybe because she's a good human being treated like the worst person alive just because she snapped a few photos of her and her boyfriend

⤷ user56 wouldn't that be the consequences of her own actions?

⤷ hArrysbtch nope. her phone was hacked. how many times you take photos of yourself and think 'oh god, what if my gonna be hacked and this will be posted?'

⤷ harrysmoustache hArrysbtch ohhh, babes!!! you closed that haters mouth!!!!

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drynysn

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 738 492 others

drynysn During one of my latest lectures one of the students asked about accuracy in Sci-Fi movies, so I decided to start a little series of: Is this SCIENCE or just FICTION? Firstly, we'd look into the scene from Spider-Man 2 (2004). The scene where Peter Parker (Spider-Man) is stopping the train from its eventual crash. he shot multiple web lines, then they stretched and didn't break. One would say it is not possible. But! From the way the scene is shown to us, we are able to estimate how strong the web needed to be for it to happen. After looking up the train's mass, you can estimate its initial velocity (how far it can go per hour, so km/h) by seeing exactly how long it takes to pass the city blocks. (1)

view all 19 934 comments

drynysn (2) You can look up, measure, the distance over the webbing stretches, and then estimate its diameter . You can also count the number of web lines. NOW, we end up with a tensile (fancy way of saying elastic) strength for the webbing that has to be about 1 000 megapascals (mega meaning milion) which is equivalent to about 102 036 704 kilograms per square metre (which is 145 000 lbs/square inch - for you, my American friends on here).

drynysn (3) What is absolutely mind-blowing is the fact that actual spider silk has a tensile strength of 1 200 megapascals. So, if Spider-Man's webbing would be anyway that strong, that scene was very, very realistic. Rating it 9/10. What scene would you like to see next?

scienceandharstyles that is so informative and making this movie even more iconic!! Did you do all the equations by yourself, dr YSN?

⤷ drynysn Yes, I did! Took me some time to analyse the scene but it was worth it!

harryupdates oh, i need to rewatch this movie immediately!!!

harryismylife could the next scene be the one from The Avengers where Mjolnir after contacting Cap's shield makes that blue light? is that even possible?

⤷ drynysn that's a great scene! i'll look over it!

hArrysbtch i love the little explanations in brackets! i didn't need to look up the tensile thingy!

harrysmoustache you're telling me the scene i was 100% sure was as fake as my eyelashes is true???

user45 maybe you should try explaining showing of that body of yours

user75 is this the new way to make money after being fired?

user281 unemployment doesn't suit you but the consequences of your actions finally caught up with you

user374 i think you should start posting one of those photos the sun included in their article - you'll get more attention

comments to this post have been disabled

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrymoustache nad 54 292 others

harryupdates HARRY nad DR YN spotted in a small restaurant in Oxford (i'm disabling the comments cause i don't want to deal with the haters)

view all 74 comments

hArrysbtch MY PARENTS!!!!!!!! ARE BACK AFTER THE WEEKS OF DRAUGHT!!!!!

hArrysbtch and they look goooood

harrysmoustache i missed them so much..

stylesbabie yn looks so tired and sad

⤷ hArrysbtch it's just one phot of one moment

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harrystyles via close friends IG story

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londonboyharry

liked by harryupdates nad 14 302 others

londoboyharry went to oxford to bump into harry. it's better! i met dr yn ysn, drank coffee with her, talked and laughed my ass off! she is the funniest, kindest and most down to earth person i've ever met. also, after i asked her about all the things that were happening around her, she just said 'what things?' WITH A SMIRK ON HER FACE, SIPPING HER LITTLE AMERICANO AND BEING UNBOTHERED

view all 3 203 comments

harryupdates im so happy that she gives no damn to those people online

hArrysbtch I LOVE HER

harrymoustache the moment the legend the IT girl

stylesbabie happy for you!!!

harrysmylife who would want to meet harry when you can meet dr yn ysn?

scienceandharstyles best woman alive

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scienceandharstyles

liked by drynysn, harrystyles and 56 482 others

scienceandharstyles WE GRADUATED OXFORD!!! to anybody who said there was no way to incorporating pop culture with a biology degree? eat shit! i wrote the whole masters based on musicians' impact on fans' hormonal production. hehe. ALSO, it would not be possible withouth the best teacher, academic inspiration, and person I've ever met - dr YN YSN. thank you!

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drynysn MADELINE, I am so proud of you. It would be not possible without your persisatnce and will to find solutions and answers. This is all yours!

harrystyles Congratulations, Madeline! H, xx.

harryupdates congrats maddie!!

stylesbabie very very proud

harrysmoustache did you perhaps use harry as an example in your work?

⤷ scienceandharstyles YES, I did. Only positive affect of his voice, music and visuals...

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oxford_uni

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 748 392 others

oxford_uni Acknowledging the upheaval around one of our lecturers - dr YN YSN, the Chancellor of Oxford University and the Dean of The Department of Physics decided to release the joined statement:

Refuting the words ans statements made by publishers not connected to our University, we would like to inform anybody in concern that one of our grates lecturers dr YN YSN is not decruited. The matter of private life is not concern of the University authority, even more when the said privacy was bridged. At this place, we would like to wish luck during dr YN YSN' s new path - becoming a professor.

view all 64 855 comments

harrystyles <3

harryupdates I KNEW IT

hArrysbtch EAT SHIT THE SUN, EAT SHIT JOHN ADDAMS

harrysmoustache HAHHAHAHAHAHA I KNEW IT !!!!!! BABY THERE WAS NO WAY THEY WOULD FIRE HER

stylesbabie thank god! there is still hope for this world

scienceandharstyles Chancellor and Dean with the best decision ever made

harrysmylife now haters what??? ha??

harrysfan87 i believed in you guys i did

londonboyharry becoming a professor???? good luck yn!!!

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 275 others

yourinstagram There was no better thing that happened to me than meeting you. You support means the world. I love you forever.

view all 36 comments

harrystyles Loving you is the greatest honour of all time, my heart <3

annetwist My favourite girl in the world! (besides my daughter)

⤷ gemmastyles Thanks for clarifying, mum

gemmastyles My sister from another mister!

yourbestfriend We need to finally meet up!

⤷ yourinstagram yessss!

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates, annetwist and 10 746 646 others

harrystyles You're just finishing one of your latest publications on the way to becoming a professor. I couldn't have been more proud and honoured to accompany you during this time.

view all 98 757 comments

yourinstagram I love you I love you I love you

annetwist Our smart professor. <3

harryupdates ohhhhhh *melting*

hArrysbtch I'll never get over him posting her on here

harrysmoustache we are back to normal, baby!!!

scienceandharstyles professor YN YSN sounds amazing

harrysmylife BEST. COUPLE. EVER.

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a/n: did you like the way it turned out?

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 8)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic)

Word count : 5k

Warnings : angst, spoilers s6, canon level gore, violence, language, Samuel is fucking annoying, also i made up the signal on my own (it’s not very creative lol)

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

A/n 2: gif (1) from Pinterest. Credits to owner.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It was a given that Y/n knew Dean wouldn't stay. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch. She has been holding on for too long, pretending to be strong. It was time she dealt with her feelings. She would let herself wallow in misery. She didn't know for how long had she sat in her room. She checked that clock it read, 10am. She sighed sitting up against the headboard. She needed someone to be by her side. She didn't feel like crying, too exhausted for tears. She looked at the crib and watched Adeline sleeping soundly.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. "I know this is bizarre, but I'm desperate here. I know you and Dean have a connection and you only respond to him but Cas, I need you. If you hear me please, respond." Y/n breathed opening her eyes. She peeked around her room for the angel but he wasn't there. "Dean's bitch." She muttered turning to lay on her side and gasped when she saw Castiel sitting on the other side of the bed.

"Hello Y/n."

"Cas you scared me."

"You called. I came." He replied flatly. He's back to his angel self and he's emotionless as ever. "You look terrible."

"That is comforting, thanks." She replied sarcastically. "Where've you been?"

"Around."

"I know you're busy with angel business so thank you for coming."

"You seem to be in terrible condition. And you sounded...anguished." Y/n nodded. She moved and wrapped her arms around his frame and he hugged her back awkwardly. Y/n felt safe and not-terrible. He may not be accustomed to human emotions and gestures but his presence comforted her.

Surprisingly, he stayed with her for more time than she expected. He brought her food as she didn't want to leave the room. Adeline woke up with a loud cry and y/n tended to her. When Castiel held Adeline he had half the mind to brand the child with the sigil but he knew y/n wouldn't let him, she's too small and it would hurt her. He just wanted to keep her safe but he wouldn't do anything she or Dean wouldn't allow him to.

"I have to go." Cas said all of a sudden. Y/n nodded, she knew he would stay if he could. She was grateful that he even came.

"Sure, thanks for coming Cas." She said taking Adeline from him. She didn't even get an answer when Cas disappeared.

It was around six pm when she heard a knock at her door. Y/n tensed at thought of having to interact with anyone. Bobby knew well enough when to leave her alone so either it must be really important or it was Lisa. She opened the door finding, it was the latter.

"Hey, I didn't mean to bother you but Sam called and said you didn't answer when he called, he's worried." She spoke politely. "you've been in your room the whole day and it worried me too."

"It's not a bother at all. I'm just tired." Y/n replied with tired smile. She actually was tired.

"It's not because of me is it? That you're scooped up in your room?" Lisa asked hoping it wasn't the case.

"Oh no not all Lis." The nickname and y/n's light tone made the woman feel a bit better.

"Okay." She smiled. "Sam and Dean left for my place in the morning to track the Djinn. They might be back tomorrow." Lisa informed.

"Alright." She nodded and Lisa turned to leave when Y/n spoke, "I'll uh call Sam. And thanks for checking in."

"Anytime."

Y/n closed the door when Lisa left. She grabbed her phone as saw five missed calls from Sam, each with a gap of an hour. He must've been worried. She dialled his number and pressed the phone to her ear. He picked up on the first ring.

"I know you hate me but that doesn't mean you get to leave me worried sick." Was the first thing he said as he answered the phone.

"Hello to you too." She replied.

"This isn't funny. Where have you been? You haven't left your room the whole day, you weren't answering my calls."

"You keeping tabs on me Winchester?" She teased.

"It's called caring." Sam replied, harsher than he intended.

"Sorry I was in my head. I needed space." She replied honestly.

"Take as much space as you need. Next time just let me know you're okay.!!"

"Yeah." She nodded even though he can't see her. "How's it going?"

"We've checked the place. There are three of them. We figured they'd only come out when it's me and Dean alone. So we're waiting."

"You're waiting for three Djinns to attack you while its only you two. Not to mention they're extremely powerful ones who almost killed all three of us?" Y/n sighed at their stupidity. But then, what are Winchesters if not stupid.

"That's one way to put it." Sam chuckled. "But Samuel's backing us up."

"For the record," she softly said, "I don't hate you."

"Uh thanks." He said making her chuckle. "I think i gotta go."

"Be safe, Sammy." With that Sam hung up.

It was around midnight, y/n was in the main room reading, Adeline laid in the middle of the room, staring up at the devil's trap, gazing the the symbols with curiosity. The shapes enticing the little baby. She had a good amount of sleep while being trapped inside the room so now she's wide awake keeping her mother company.

Y/n heard the sound of tires against the road and then Sam's car's horn. She didn't want to see Dean but she couldn't just hide anytime he was around. She knew it was going to be a frequent occurrence now that he knows Sam's back so she stayed seated. Sam and Dean appeared at the doorway and she shifted her gaze from the book to the men.

"How'd it go?" She asked the younger brother.

"Terrible. But we killed them."

"Basically the story of every hunt." She retorted and Sam chuckled walking towards her. He kneeled beside Addy and was going to pick her up when Y/n swatted his hands away. "Clean up first."

"You're mean." He pouted.

"No, you're dirty." Y/n shooed him away. Sam didn't argue and made his way out of the room to get cleaned. Dean, glanced at Adeline and left without a word.

Now that the Djinns were gone, Lisa and Ben were free to go back to their place. That meant Dean will leave too. She wanted to be bitter but she knew the way Dean thought. He dragged them into this, put a target on their backs and now it's his responsibility to protect them. After they left, it was just her and Bobby. Sam had been gone with Samuel again.

"Hey Bobby!" She called out to the older man who was playing with Adeline. "I think I'll move."

"You two are idjits you know that?" His reply made her snort. He was against the idea but he knew she had made her mind.

"It's the company." She teased which earned her a glare from the old man.

"You better be safe, ya hear me?" 

"You got it."

Y/n leased a house in a neighbourhood few towns over. It was her fresh start. No hunting, no monsters, no Dean. Just her and Adeline. The house was well furnished and she didn't have much stuff to set up anyway. She had a spare room for a nursery. She set everything up but she put the crib her own room. With everything she knew was out there, she wouldn't leave her baby alone.

"This is a bad idea." Sam said pacing in her new living room.

"It is not." She replied glaring at him. "Would you stop pacing."

"It's not safe. You're too far from us. We can't reach you in time if something happens." Sam said sitting on the couch.

"Sam I've monster proofed the whole house. There's salt on every window, devil traps all over the place. I've got my gun, holy water, machetes, plenty of silver...Even Bobby checked the whole place." She assured him.

Sam sighed leaning back on the couch. He still thinks its a bad idea. He just wants her to be safe.

"I got out Sam. I'm not a hunter anymore."

"Yeah but that didn't stop that Djinn to come after you. Who knows what else could be after you. You and Addy were safe at Bobby's." Sam tried to argue. "I know you left because of Dean but he won't be going over. He stopped hunting for good." She gave him a look but he continued. "He did. He made Lisa and Ben move. And he told me he's done. He won't hunt with me or anyone."

"Look, i know you think I'm unsafe but I promise you I'll be fine. I'll call you even if I doubt anything in the slightest, I swear."

"Okay." Sam accepted defeat. "Get me a beer."

"Hey, don't order me around." She kicked his leg lightly, a smile on her face. "Go get it yourself. And get me one too." This might actually be a good start. She felt happy. She could start fresh. Or could she?

She had been living under one of her aliases, Emma Parker. And her daughter Adeline Parker. The neighbourhood was decent and people were good. It had been smooth sailing for the past two months. Until she heard the news of six months old babies disappearing from locked homes and their parents being brutally murdered. It was happening too close to her location. However she didn't think it was some sort of supernatural gig, even if it was she was prepared to fight whoever it was.

Y/n's phone rang and she sighed knowing who it was and what they're going to say. She answered it begrudgingly.

"Y/n you need to go back to Bobby's." Sam told her while driving his car.

"Sam that's bullshit and you know that."

"I don't care whatever it is. You need to leave. Addy turned six months a week ago. They're killing parents and taking babies. Even if it's not our kinda thing it's not safe." Sam argued.

"Sam how long am I going to keep running? I can't lock myself at Bobby's. Addy's gonna grow up, she's gonna go to school. She's not growing up in this life Sam, I'd die before I let that happen."

"It's not safe considering what's happening in your town."

"Just because I don't hunt anymore doesn't mean I don't know how to fight. Be it a human or a monster. I'll kill anyone who tries to harm my baby." Sam didn't speak for a moment. He sighed before agreed.

"I'm in town investigating this thing. So I'll see you soon yeah?"

"Yeah."

Sam went around investigating the murders and disappearance of the children. He went to Y/n's house and the two of them brainstormed MO's, reasoning and potential suspects.

"You don't have anything to do with Harper security, do you?" Sam asked y/n who brought him a beer, with Adeline on her hip.

"Nope, why do you ask?"

"All of the houses had their services. That's the only thing in common." He said standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"Where are you going?"  She asked as he stood up abruptly.

"Well I'm on this case, as a Fed or a Hunter. Can't stay here long. It'll put a target on you." He said grabbing his things. He kissed Addy's head and then hers. "Lock the windows and doors. Stay safe." With that he walked out of the door.

After Sam left he went to watch another house that had Harper security. He watched as a man entered the house, he followed him inside. The man turned to attack him and Sam fought back, he nicked the man with a silver knife and his hand burned. It was a shifter. He left the place and Sam checked the place and found a baby. He sighed.

"Dean i need your help." He said into the phone as he got into his car.

Dean met up with Sam and sighed as he saw a baby in the backseat.

"You need help with a baby? Haven't you been around Adeline to know all the baby stuff." Dean rolled his eyes at his brother.

"No. Not most of the time. Besides I'm working a job here." Dean sighed knowing Sam's right.

The two of them headed to a store to get necessary supplies for the baby and they ran into the shifter. It took the baby pretending to be a nice old lady. But Dean watched the woman in the cctv cam and noticed her eyes were like those of shifters. Sam and Dean fought with the shifter and grabbed the baby and ran out of the store. The two of them were in a motel room Sam was going through the papers while Dean was watching BobbyJohn. Sam stopped his work to watch Dean.

"You're surprisingly good at this." Sam commented.

"I've done this before." Dean replied vaguely.

"Last I remember Ben was a full grown child." Dean glared at his brother.

"I put Addy to sleep. Once." Sam raised his brow in curiosity.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Dean immediately replied.

"Alright, you stay here with Bobby John and I'll go see what i can find out." Sam said getting up. Dean just nodded.

Sam was driving to meet with one of the babies' father, who was not at home during the attack. After talking to him, he reached to a conclusion that the shifter cloned himself into the husbands, knocked up the wives and is now collecting his own babies. He needed to tell Dean the baby is a shifter. He retrieved his phone from his pocket to call Dean but before he could, his phone rang.

"Hey." Sam answered.

"Hey, how's it going? Did you find anything?" Y/n asked.

"Actually, I found everything." He told her everything he found out. He just left the part where he was working with Dean.

"Well that's great. Now you have nothing to worry about since Addy is Dean's daughter and not some psycho shifter's." She said over the phone.

"Yeah I'm relieved over that." Sam responded.

"Yeah, how about you come over for dinner tonight?"

"I can't y/n, I'd love to but I've got one of the babies with me and I've got to take him to Samuel." Sam explained. "Look, I have to go but I'll call you."

Sam went back to the motel and saw a sherrif dead in the motel room and Dean carrying a baby that looked like the baby on the diaper box. He shifted.

"We've gotta take him to Samuel."

Y/n was in the kitchen when she heard the doorbell ring. She opened the door to see Sam in standing there. She knew it wasn't Sam. He was on his way to Samuel. And she knew a shifter was in town so she knew what she was dealing with.

"Sammy hi." She invited him in. She knew she had to attack when he least expects it. "I thought you were too busy to drop by."

"Yeah uh, I did. But family first you know." Family my ass Y/n thought to herself.

"That's amazing, you staying for dinner right?"

"Sure." He replied taking a seat on the couch. She watched as he kept eyeing Adeline who was crawling throughout the living room. Ever since she learned how to, she hasn't stopped.

She has to do something quick or else she'd regret it. She can't risk leaving Addy alone with the monster so she subtly grabbed a silver knife from the cabinet behind her and put it in the back pocket of her jeans. Her gun was taped under the table in the living room and it was stocked with silver bullets. She cringed at the idea that crept in her mind. The shifter doesn't know the relationship between her and Sam.

"You know..." she walked towards the shifter who was pretending to be Sam. "It's been a while since we had some fun." She dropped herself in his lap and he immediately grabbed her hips. Yep not my Sam. She thought to herself.

"I think so too." He breathed as he felt her up. She was internally cringing so bad, first this was a slimy shifter she was straddling , who on top of that was wearing Sam's face. Her best friend. She was hating the feeling of his hands on her body. She lifted her shirt over her head and he immediately distraced by that.

Men, she rolled her eyes.

He was eager to latch his mouth to her skin and she knew she had him. She slipped the knife from her pocket and stabbed him in his chest. The creature groaned and Y/n immediately jumped off him and went up to pick Adeline from the ground. The shifter removed the knife from his chest and threw it away. He grabbed her by the ankles and threw her against the wall, blood trickled down her head. He went for Adeline but y/n pushed him.

She grabbed the knife and lunged at him but he grabbed her arm and twisted it. He made her stab her own side. She screamed in pain as blood gushed out of her side. She knew better than to remove the object so she elbowed him in the neck and crawled towards the table and grabbed her gun.

He had picked up Adeline who was now wailing in his arms. She knew it was risk shooting him while he was holding her daughter but she knew she couldn't let him take her. She took a deep breath and steadied her arm. She's done it a thousand times before, she can hit moving targets. It should be easy. She gripped the gun tightly in her hand and shot twice at his vacant shoulder on the side he was not holding Adeline.

"Tell her father I want what he has. I'll be in touch." With that he ran out of the house.

Y/n watched in horror as he left with Adeline. He should've been dead. She shot him with silver bullets. What does Dean even have that the shifter wants? She clutched her side as she grabbed her phone and dialled Sam.

"Sammy. He took Adeline." Sam slammed the brakes, hard.

"What the hell Sammy?" Dean asked as Sam reversed the car and drove past the speed limit. Sam was breathing hard as he clutched the steering wheel tightly. "Would you tell me what's going on?" Dean demanded.

"Dean shut up." Sam said aggressively. Dean was shocked at his outburst. It was only a matter of minutes before they arrived a house, which Dean had never seen before. Sam ran out of the car and Dean watched as his brother kicked the door open to the house. He grabbed the baby from the back seat and followed Sam.

Sam entered the living room and the whole place was bloody, The whole place looked like a mess, shattered lamps and photo frames. A bloodied Y/n was on the couch holding a kitchen towel to her side. A bloodied knife and gun was placed on the table. He rushed to her side.

Dean walked inside the house hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. The moment he stepped inside his heart stopped. Out of everything in world this is the last thing he expected.

Y/n was barely holding onto consciousness and Sam patted her cheek to keep her awake.

"Hey stay with me." He looked down and removed the towel to see blood gushing out of her wound. "You need stitches. Dean grab the medical kit." Sam looked back at Dean who was frozen in place. "DEAN." Sam yelled.

Dean shook himself as he watched his biggest nightmare come true. The love his life barely hanging to life, bloodied. He jumped into action when Sam yelled his name, he ran inside the kitchen and checked all the cabinets. He found the box in the cabinet above the sink. He grabbed the box and another clean towel from the shelf. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey that he luckily found. He re-entered the room handing the box to Sam. She was already shirtless so it was easier for Sam to patch her up. Dean poured the alcohol on her wound and Sam cleaned the area. Y/n hissed in pain as he did so.

"Bite into it, sweetheart." Dean said place the clean towel inside her mouth. She clenched her teeth as Sam stitched her up. Her scream was muffled by the towel inside her mouth. Dean clutched her hand in his as she withered in pain. "Almost done, baby."

When Sam was done he placed a gauze over the stitches and closed the wound. Now that the blood was not oozing out her body she could keep herself awake. She removed her hand from Dean's grip and threw the towel on the floor.

"Son of a bitch." She gasped sitting up. "Give me that." She grabbed the whiskey from Dean and gulped down the liquid. "He took Addy." She tried to blink back the tears. "He said, tell her father I want what he has and he'll be in touch." She cried. Sam wrapped her arms around her as she sobbed.

At her words the two brothers immediately eyed the baby in the carseat.

"Tell us everything." Dean said. She told them everybody that happened.

"It should've died, i shot him with silver bullets, twice." She cried.

"I think it was the alpha." Sam replied.

"The alpha? As in the very first of their kind?" Y/n asked and Sam nodded.

"It would've hurt him but only shooting him in the heart would kill him." Sam added.

"I thought about it, I would've done it had he not have Addy in his arms." Y/n sobbed.

"You should've called us." Dean stated.

"Excuse me?" She glared at him.

"You shouldn't have taken on him alone, should've called us." Dean replied.

"And you think he wouldn't have noticed me calling Sam, when Sam was clearly sitting in my living room and last I remember you were busy playing house." She snapped back.

"You could've gone to the other room." Dean argued.

"And left my daughter alone? Like you did?" She yelled. This made Dean and even Sam flinch.

"Hey.. calm down. Fighting isn't going to bring Addy back." Sam intervened.

"Sammy please do something, bring her back. I don't have any reason to live besides her." She cried in Sam's chest.

"We'll get her back. I promise." Sam rubbed back in a comforting manner.

Dean watched as his brother was comforting her. He wished it was him in his place telling her that it'll be alright, they'll get their daughter back. Hell he wished it didn't happen in the first place. It was all his fault, He should've been here, he should've.... His train of thoughts was broken by the ringing of a phone. 

Sam answered his phone, it was Samuel calling.

"What?" Sam exclaimed. "Tell him we agree. Yes we'll be there. Is she okay?" Dean and y/n heard the one sided conversation. Sam nodded as he hung up. "The shifter has taken Addy to Samuel, and he's bargaining. Addy for that child." Sam said gesturing to the child. It was the first time she noticed that child's presence.

"Let's go then." She said standing up.

"I don't think you should come with, we'll bring her home." Dean said fuelling y/n's anger.

"What makes you think you're in position to give orders? In a situation regarding 'my' daughter?" She sneered, emphasising on the word 'my'.

She grabbed her shirt from the floor not caring it was stained with blood. She grabbed her gun and stuffed it in her jeans. She put on her jacket and limped towards Sam's car. Sam and Dean followed behind her, Sam put the carseat with the baby in the back. Y/n rounded the car and opened the passenger's seat door.

"I'm not sitting beside that thing or I might break its neck. Baby or not." She said sliding inside and slamming the door shut. The two men nodded and got inside the car. Dean sat in the back while Sam drove.

They reached Samuel's warehouse in a few hours. The three of them walked inside the place, the carseat in Sam's hand. Christian took them to where Samuel was. The old man stood from his seat and glanced at the shifter baby.

"Where is he?" Sam asked.

"He didn't come himself, he sent a message. He said to signal him when were ready to deal." Samuel replied.

"And how do you do that?" Y/n asked shifting her weight on her legs.

"Sacred shots." Samuel said.

"Sacred shots?" Dean asked.

"Yeah there's pattern while shooting. First you shoot left in the air then right and then twice directly in the middle." Samuel explained. The three of them nodded. Y/n watched Mark, Gwen and a few unfamiliar faces walked inside the room.

"Now we need a plan of action, Mark-"

"What plan of action?" Y/n interrupted Samuel.

"To catch him of course."

"Oh hell no. You're not using my daughter as bait for whatever sick plan you have." She said sternly.

"Y/n, I know Adeline is your daughter and I adore that kid but we have to catch him, he's the Alpha." Samuel explained. "We will get her back."

"You will not. You said you made a deal. You lied to us to bring this child here." She yelled.

"I did what had to be done."

"Samuel. This isn't-" Sam started but his grandfather cut him off.

"Sam i know she's your friend," he gestured to y/n "and you care for her child but this is neces-"

"That's enough." Dean yelled. "You will give him this child and get Adeline back." He told his grandfather. Samuel walked towards Dean, staring him down.

"And why would I do that?" Samuel challenged.

"Because she is my daughter." Dean yelled. "and you will not play anymore games, do ya hear me?" He growled staring into his grandfather's eyes.

The room fell silent at his confession and the old man took a step back. Y/n watched Dean's face turn red in anger and his adam's apple bobbed as he stared up at Samuel, daring him to go against his word. The aforementioned man nodded his head in agreement.

They had decided that it would be Dean who would go out and deal with the shifter. He went to the backyard and fired the sacred shots. He kept the baby on the ground who was still strapped in the car seat.

"I'm here." Dean yelled. He heard the leaves crunching underneath someone's steps. He turned to see an unfamiliar man walking towards him with Adeline crying in his arms. Dean's skin crawled as he watched his daughter in a stranger's arms. "I've got what you want. I'm here to deal. No games." He said to the man.

"You know it's you humans who don't stick to your words. I'm just here to get what i want. I haven't touched a single hair on your daughter's head." The man replied.

"That better be the case." Dean replied. He grabbed the car seat and walked towards the man. He set it beside the man and held his arms out for Adeline who was still crying.

"No games?" The man asked.

"No games." Dean nodded. The shifter placed Adeline in Dean's arms and he sighed in relief having his daughter back in his arms. The shifter leaned down to pick up car seat and looked around suspiciously, still not trusting Dean. He picked the seat up and when nothing happened, he walked to where he came from.

"Daddy's here, baby. You're safe, my love." Dean cooed at his daughter. Tears pooled in his eyes as his heart was beating profusely in his chest. He bounced the little baby in his arms, Adeline curled herself in his chest as if she recognised his warmth. "It's okay, angel daddy's got you." He walked back to the warehouse and Adeline had stopped crying. He opened the door to Samuel's study where everyone was waiting, Y/n ran towards him and grabbed Adeline from his arms. Sam sighed in relief at the sight of his niece. Y/n clutched her daughter to her chest, crying and kissing the little baby all over her face.

"Oh Baby you're okay. I'm glad you're okay." She said to her daughter as if she'd understand her.. Holding Adeline in one arm she turned to Dean and wrapped her arm around him. "Thank you Dean." She cried. "Thank you for saving our daughter." She sobbed in his chest. He wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her closer.

"You don't have to thank me, baby." He kissed her head, cherishing the moment. He pecked his daughter's head, grateful that she was okay.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@suckitands33

[fafnir19]

The Hamptons Diary

Loris sat in the glow of his computer screen, the frenetic sounds of gunshots and explosions filling his small apartment. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight.

His neighbors Andrew and Dean, a gay couple in their late forties, tossed and turned in their adjacent apartment, unable to sleep amidst the cacophony of Loris' late-night gaming. Suddenly, the sound of pounding fists echoed through the thin walls. Loris paused the game and sighed, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before Andrew and Dean barged in. "Can you keep it down, Loris? We're trying to sleep here," Andrew's stern voice reverberated through the door. "Yeah, seriously, Loris. It's the middle of the night," Dean added, his voice laden with exhaustion. Loris opened the door, revealing himself to be unkempt, his blond hair disheveled and his once-bright blue eyes weary and bloodshot. He mumbled an apology as a single tear trickled down his cheek. "What's wrong, Loris?" Dean's tone softened slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. "I lost my job, okay? I don't know what to do. I feel useless," Loris choked out, his voice laced with defeat. Andrew and Dean exchanged a glance, the reality of Loris' struggles sinking in. They offered their sympathies before leaving, but the tension lingered in the air like an unspoken plea for help. The nightly pattern of gaming and sleepless neighbors continued for weeks, taking a toll on Andrew and Dean. Andrew, with important business meetings on the horizon, could no longer tolerate the disturbances. "We can't go on like this, Dean. I need my rest for these meetings," Andrew voiced his frustration, weary lines etched on his face. Dean, with a thoughtful expression, suggested a temporary solution. "Remember our friend in the Hamptons? We inherited his house. Loris could look after it for us, spruce things up a bit. We could even pay him for it, give him something to focus on." Andrew hesitated, skeptical of entrusting Loris with such responsibility. "You know how disorganized Loris is. Can he handle it? And I've never liked him, you know that," he remarked, his apprehension evident. After some debate, Andrew begrudgingly agreed, swayed by Dean's kindness and the hope of peaceful nights ahead.

Dean drove Loris to the opulent oceanfront home in the Hamptons, the fresh sea breeze offering a stark contrast to the urban clamor left behind. Loris gazed wide-eyed at the sprawling property, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. "Thank you, Dean. I'll take care of the house, I promise," Loris assured, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. Dean patted Loris on the shoulder before heading back to the city, leaving Loris to the tranquil expanse of the Hamptons estate. Days passed, and Loris reveled in his newfound solitude, though the pristine beauty of the house soon mirrored the chaos of his city apartment. Used dishes littered the kitchen, and dust settled on every surface. Amidst the clutter, Loris stumbled upon a weathered diary, its pages yellowed with age. Intrigued, Loris began to read, realizing that the diary belonged to Tom, likely the previous owner's companion.

Loris sat cross-legged on the floor, a pool of moonlight around him as he pored over the aged diary. Dust motes danced in the air, and the distant crash of waves against the shore provided a soothing backdrop. The pages crackled as he turned them, each revealing more of Tom's intriguing life. Scribbles and smudges adorned the once pristine pages, speaking of Tom's dedication to exercising, grooming, and housekeeping. A humorous snort escaped Loris as he read about Tom's relentless efforts. With a shake of his head, he thought, "This guy was really something." Holding the diary closer to his face, Loris continued reading by the flickering light of an old candle. He marveled at the meticulous routines Tom adhered to, his neat handwriting leaving no detail untold. Loris couldn't help but chuckle at the pages filled with anecdotes about Tom's wardrobe and preppy attire. As the nights bled into each other, Loris found himself unconsciously mimicking Tom's habits. He'd rise before dawn to jog along the beach, pamper himself with regular grooming sessions, and maintain the house with an almost obsessive zeal.

And when he slipped into Tom's preppy clothes for the first time, a shiver ran down his spine, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his body. Days turned into weeks, and Loris was a changed man. His previously disheveled appearance had given way to a chiseled physique and impeccable grooming. At night, the house practically sparkled under his diligent care. One evening, Loris stood before a full-length mirror, clad in Tom's preppy clothes. As he admired his reflection, a new sense of confidence surged within him. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt - he looked like a gay wet dream.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he let out a low, satisfied hum. The thought surprised him, but he couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him. Lost in his thoughts, Loris barely noticed Dean's arrival at the beach house.

As Dean stepped into the luxurious oceanfront home in the Hamptons, he couldn't help but feel a jolt of surprise at the sight before him. Loris, once unkempt and disheveled, now stood before him as an enigmatic and adorable young man. Dean's eyebrows shot up in astonishment as he struggled to process the drastic transformation. "Loris, what... how did this happen?" Dean's voice quivered with disbelief. Loris grinned, exuding a newfound confidence that seemed to radiate from every pore. "I found Tom's diary," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Dean's heart sank as he realized what that meant. He thought the cursed diary was long gone, destroyed to prevent its sinister influence from spreading. The possessive and jealous former homeowner had given it to his lover, Tom, in a twisted attempt to bind him and transform him into a trophy boy against his will. And now, it seemed that Loris had unknowingly fallen prey to the same fate. Dean's expression darkened, his voice barely above a horrified whisper. "Loris, that diary is cursed. It forces its owner to become a trophy boy, against their will. We need to destroy it, before it's too late." He watched Loris carefully, praying that he hadn't been fully ensnared by the diary's enchantment. Loris' eyes widened in shock as he processed Dean's words. "I-I'm the victim of a spell?" His voice trembled with uncertainty. For a moment, it seemed that the confident facade he'd adopted was beginning to crack.

But then, to Dean's profound dismay, Loris let out a laugh that chilled him to the bone. "The spell is good!" Loris exclaimed, his tone betraying an unsettling fervor. "I used to be undisciplined and unkempt - and look at me now. The magic makes me better! Plus, I like the way you look at me lustfully, even if I'm not gay!" Dean's heart sank as he realized the depth of the diary's hold on Loris. "But Loris, you don't understand. You'll become a trophy boy, against your will. You'll be forced to submit to someone else's desires, to become something you're not." His voice shook with urgency as he tried to reason with Loris, to break through the spell's intoxicating allure. To his astonishment, Loris's expression transformed into one of unnerving determination. "It isn't against my will anymore," he insisted, his words firm and unwavering. Dean felt a surge of helplessness as he confronted the stark reality before him. It was clear that Loris had embraced the changes wrought by the cursed diary, despite the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade. Desperation gnawed at Dean's insides as he grappled with the enormity of the situation. As the weight of their predicament settled upon him, Dean realized that breaking the spell would be an uphill battle. But for Loris's sake, he knew he couldn't simply give up.

Dean drove back to the city from the Hamptons, a sense of urgency gnawing at him. He weaved through traffic, determined to tell Andrew about the cursed diary and Loris's transformation. As he burst through the front door, he found Andrew in the living room, engrossed in his laptop. "Andrew, we have to break the spell!" Dean exclaimed, rushing over to Andrew. Andrew lifted his gaze from the screen. "Dean, what are you talking about? What spell?" Dean quickly recounted how Loris had discovered the cursed diary in the Hamptons, and how it had changed him drastically. "We have to find a way to undo this. It's not right, Andrew." Andrew's eyes widened, and he leaned in, "Let's do it. We'll figure out how to break this curse." A week later, Loris returned from the Hamptons. As he stepped into the living room, Andrew's breath caught in his throat. Loris stood there, transformed into an adorable young man. His previously disheveled appearance was replaced with a preppy and well-groomed look.

"Wow," Andrew murmured under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from Loris. Dean shot a pleading look at Andrew. "We have to do something, Andrew. Loris is becoming a trophy boy against his will." However, as Andrew stared at Loris, he found himself charmed by the young man. "Dean, I don't think I can help you," Andrew said softly. "What? But Andrew, this is not right," Dean protested. Andrew's eyes softened as he looked at Loris. "He's the son I never thought I wanted. I can't help you, Dean. I'm sorry." The realization hit Dean hard. He had lost this battle. He resigned himself to his fate as Loris's second gay father, feeling helpless in the face of the enchantment that had captured Loris. Weeks passed, and Andrew and Dean rallied to support Loris. They made it possible for him to study at the best university in the country, providing him with everything he needed for his education and well-being.

Loris flourished under their care, embracing his new life as a well-groomed and preppy young man. In the end, Loris was happier than ever. He found comfort in the care and attention he received from Andrew and Dean, feeling like he had finally found a place where he belonged. The once unkempt and lost Loris had transformed into a young man who exuded confidence and joy. As the days went by, laughter and warmth filled the walls of the house. It echoed with the sounds of Andrew and Loris joking and sharing stories, while Dean looked on with a warm smile. Despite the circumstances that had led to this unusual family dynamic, there was an unspoken bond that tied them together. Loris had found a new sense of purpose and belonging, and Andrew and Dean had welcomed him into their lives with open arms. Though the cursed diary had brought about unexpected changes, it had also led to an unlikely but loving family forming in the beautiful house in the Hamptons.